With skye

Morning came quietly.

Avery woke to the feeling of Blair’s fingers tracing slow circles on his hip and Martha’s cock, soft but still present, resting against the cleft of his ass. Neither woman spoke at first. Blair simply leaned in and kissed the back of his neck, then the spot just below his ear.

“You’re going to college,” she murmured. “But when you get home, I want more of what we started yesterday. Properly.”

Martha’s hand slid up Avery’s stomach and settled over his chest, thumb brushing one nipple.

“Don’t let the professors wear him out too much,” she said to Blair, voice still rough with sleep. “I want him functional this evening.”

Blair huffed a quiet laugh. “No promises.”

They let him get up after that. The shower was shared but not rushed—hands washing him thoroughly, mouths occasionally finding his neck or shoulder, but no one pushed further. Breakfast was almost ordinary. Blair sat close enough that her knee stayed pressed against his. Martha packed his bag herself and kissed him at the door, slow enough that Blair watched with open interest.

“Text if you’ll be late,” Martha said. “And be good.”

Avery’s cheeks warmed. “I’ll try.”

---

Campus felt sharper than usual.

The social current around him had thickened overnight. Girls who normally only stared now found reasons to walk the same direction he was going. A few offered notes from classes he hadn’t even taken. One futa in his psychology section “accidentally” dropped her pen at his feet and stayed crouched a second longer than necessary while looking up at him. Avery picked it up, handed it back with a soft thank-you, and kept walking. The girl watched him go with a small, speculative smile.

Ethan and Lucas met him near the main building. Both of them looked at him a little longer than usual.

“You’re glowing again,” Ethan said, half-teasing, half-serious. “Did something happen this weekend?”

Avery shrugged, adjusting the strap of his bag. “Just family stuff.”

Lucas’s eyes flicked down Avery’s body and back up. “Must’ve been some family stuff.”

They didn’t press. The three of them walked together, but the usual easy buffer of other boys around them felt thinner. More girls drifted closer. More conversations stopped when Avery passed.

Skye found him between second and third period. She didn’t hide her approach. She simply fell into step beside him, close enough that her arm brushed his with every step.

“You got my note,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

Avery nodded once.

“Good. My place after last period. Mom has a late meeting, so we’ll have the apartment to ourselves for a couple of hours.” Her voice stayed casual, but her eyes were dark. “I want to try the things you told my mother you like. The slower ones first.”

Heat crawled up Avery’s neck. He glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear, then gave another small nod.

Skye’s mouth curved. She reached out, straightened the collar of his shirt with unnecessary care, and let her fingers trail down his chest for half a second before pulling away.

“Don’t be late.”

She peeled off toward her next class. A couple of her friends standing nearby watched the exchange with open curiosity. One of them looked at Avery with new, calculating interest.

---

Literature class brought Dr. Voss’s attention again. She didn’t call him to the desk this time. Instead, while walking the aisles she paused beside his seat longer than necessary, one hand resting on the back of his chair. Her thumb brushed the nape of his neck once—light, deliberate—before she moved on. Avery kept his eyes on his notes, but his skin prickled.

At the end of the period she spoke without looking directly at him.

“Thursday still works. Don’t forget.”

He murmured an acknowledgment and packed his things.

The rest of the day passed in the same charged atmosphere. Hands brushed his waist in crowded doorways. A girl in his math class asked if he wanted to study together sometime, her fingers lingering on his when she returned a borrowed pencil. Another futa from the year above stopped him in the courtyard under the excuse of asking about a professor, then spent most of the conversation looking at his mouth.

Avery answered everyone politely, softly, and never quite closed any door.

---

When the final bell rang he texted Blair and Martha that he would be home later, then followed the address Skye had given him.

Her apartment was a short walk from campus—modern, clean, and quiet. Skye opened the door in a soft tank top and shorts, blue hair loose around her shoulders. The moment Avery stepped inside she closed the door, locked it, and pushed him gently against it.

“No rushing today,” she said. “I want to learn you the way my mother did.”

She kissed him slowly, thoroughly, taking her time. Her hands slid under his shirt, palms warm against his skin, thumbs brushing his nipples until they hardened. Avery’s breath stuttered. Skye smiled against his mouth.

“Sensitive there. Good.”

She led him to the couch rather than the bedroom. For a long time she simply touched him—mapping his body with her hands, kissing his neck and collarbone, occasionally biting just hard enough to make him gasp. When she finally stripped him she did it piece by piece, folding each item of clothing neatly, as if she had all the time in the world.

Once he was naked she sat back and looked at him.

“On your knees.”

Avery slid to the floor between her legs. Skye rested one bare foot against his chest, then higher, until her toes brushed his lips. She didn’t give a verbal order. She simply waited. Avery leaned in and began kissing the sole of her foot, licking slowly, taking each toe into his mouth the way Blair had taught him the day before. Skye’s breathing deepened.

“That’s it,” she murmured. “Just like that.”

She let him worship both feet for several minutes before turning on the couch and presenting her ass. Avery moved closer without being told, spread her cheeks, and dragged his tongue over her hole in long, careful strokes. Skye reached back and held his head in place, rolling her hips against his face.

“Deeper. I want to feel how much you like doing this.”

He obeyed, tongue pushing inside her while she made soft, pleased sounds. When she finally turned around again her cock was fully hard and leaking. She fed it to him slowly, letting him adjust, one hand resting in his hair but not forcing. Avery took her as deep as he could, eyes watering slightly, and held still whenever she pushed forward.

Skye didn’t fuck his throat hard. She simply used him at a measured pace, pulling back whenever she got close, making him lick along the shaft and kiss her balls until she decided she wanted his mouth again. The apartment stayed quiet except for the wet sounds of his lips and her occasional low praise.

“My mother was right about you,” she said at one point, voice rough. “You’re perfect for this.”

Only after she had taken her time with his mouth did she pull him up onto the couch and settle him on his back. She kissed him deeply—sharing the taste of herself—then reached down and pushed two fingers into his hole. They sank in easily. Skye’s eyebrows rose.

“Still open from this morning?”

Avery’s face burned. He nodded.

She smiled, slow and hungry, and replaced her fingers with the head of her cock. The first thrust was deliberate and deep. Avery’s head fell back against the cushion with a soft, broken sound. Skye fucked him in long, rolling strokes, watching his face the entire time, adjusting her angle whenever a particular movement made him moan louder.

She edged him the same way she had edged herself earlier—bringing him close with a hand on his cock, then stopping, then starting again—until Avery was trembling and leaking steadily onto his stomach. When she finally let him come it was with her cock buried to the hilt and her hand wrapped tightly around him. The clench of his orgasm pulled her over the edge a few seconds later. She flooded him with a low groan and stayed deep, kissing him through the aftershocks.

They stayed locked together for a long time afterward, breathing hard. Skye brushed damp hair from his forehead and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Next time I want to try the other things you like,” she said quietly. “The messier ones. But only when you’re ready to show me.”

Avery, still floating, gave a small nod.

---

He got home later than usual. Blair was waiting on the couch. The moment the door closed she pulled him down into her lap and kissed him thoroughly, tasting whatever remained of Skye on his tongue. Martha came in from the kitchen, took one look at the two of them, and smiled.

“Productive afternoon?” she asked.

Blair answered without looking away from Avery. “Very.”

Martha walked over, tipped Avery’s face up, and kissed him as well—slower, more claiming. When she pulled back she stroked his cheek with her thumb.

“Good. Dinner first. Then we continue what Blair started yesterday. Slowly.”

Blair’s arms tightened around Avery’s waist.

Outside, the sun was going down.

Inside, the quiet claiming of Avery continued—one careful revelation, one measured touch, one new person learning exactly what he would allow at a time.

The week was far from over.