why not ?

You get closer from the door then your hear voice inside, two voice. You're standing outside the bathroom door, your heart pounding in your chest as you eavesdrop on the conversation inside. The shower is running, and through the frosted glass you can just make out miranda's silhouette - her slender frame, the curve of her back as she rinses her hair, the way she keeps her face turned slightly away from the spray. she must have arrive before you and decide to shower.

You can see sarah with her. in the shower, what the fuck did you just walk in.

sarah's voice is low and teasing, just audible over the sound of water hitting tile. "You should see it," she murmurs, her fingers trailing down miranda's side. "It's really big, miranda. sophie says he's got the biggest dick she's ever seen."

miranda giggles nervously, shifting under sarah's touch. "Stop it, sarah," she protests, but there's no real conviction in her voice. The water continues to pour down around her, steam beginning to fill the small bathroom.

sarah moves closer, her lips nearly touching miranda's ear. "I bet he could make you feel so good," she purrs. "Better than anyone you've ever been with." Her hand drifts lower, tracing the outline of miranda's thigh. "Don't you want to know what it's like to have something that big inside you?" Your breath catches in your throat as you press your ear closer to the door, the wood cool against your cheek. sarah's words cut through you like a knife—jealousy and arousal twisting together in your gut. You can imagine it all too well: miranda's surprised gasp as tom pushes inside her, the stretch of her tight walls around him, her fingers digging into his back as he thrusts deeper and deeper.

sarah is right, you think bitterly. tom's cock is big—bigger than yours, bigger than anyone miranda has ever had. And she'll love it. She'll cling to him, moan his name, come undone around him in ways she could never with you. The bathroom door creaks slightly as you press against it, your breathing ragged. Inside, the shower continues to run, and miranda's laugh carries through the frosted glass—nervous, but not entirely unwilling. sarah's voice follows, soft and insistent, painting pictures in the steam that make your stomach twist.

You step back from the door, your pulse hammering. The hallway is dim, lit only by the faint glow from the bathroom. You can hear sophie's voice drifting from the kitchen, tom's deep laugh in response. They're unaware of what's happening just down the hall.

You catch your reflection in the darkened mirror of the bathroom door—your face flushed, eyes wide.