Game night 3

The tension hadn’t eased since Claire straddled that cushion and showed them all how she’d ride someone — fully clothed, fully aware. No one said much after that. Just the occasional breath, a sip of a drink, the shift of a body trying to hide what was clearly no longer subtle.

But Nia, of course, kept the bottle spinning.

“Come on,” she said. “We’re not done yet.”

The next round fell on Marcus.

He grinned slightly and turned toward John.

“Truth,” he said.

John blinked, caught off guard. “Alright.”

Marcus’s voice was low and calm. “What’s the most humiliating part of all this… that still turns you on?”

John looked at Claire. Then down at his hands. Then back at Marcus.

He swallowed. “That you don’t have to do anything.”

Claire shifted slightly.

John continued, quieter now. “She wants it. I can’t stop it. And you don’t even need to ask.”

No one said anything for a long moment.

Then Nia exhaled slowly. “Damn.”

---

The bottle landed next on Claire.

She turned to Nia, eyes lit with something dangerous.

“Dare.”

Nia smirked. “Straddle me. On the floor. Make out with me. Thirty seconds.”

John sat up straighter.

Claire stood slowly, crossed the floor without breaking eye contact. She lowered herself into Nia’s lap like she’d done it a hundred times. Their bodies pressed. Nia’s hands went to Claire’s waist.

The kiss started soft.

Then deepened.

Claire’s hips moved slightly. Nia’s fingers curled against her sides.

John couldn’t look away.

When they broke apart, Claire didn’t move right away. She stayed close, lips parted.

Then she stood. Adjusted her shorts. Walked back without a word.

---

Next round: Nia to Claire again.

“Dare.”

Nia leaned forward. “Let him”—she nodded toward Marcus—“finger your mouth. One minute. No speaking. Just look at your boyfriend while it happens.”

Claire didn’t flinch.

She got on her knees in front of Marcus.

He brought two fingers up, slow and deliberate. Slid them past her lips.

Claire’s eyes stayed locked on John’s the entire time.

She sucked. Slow. Controlled.

John’s cock pressed painfully against his pants. His throat tightened. His breath shallowed.

When Marcus finally pulled back, Claire licked her lips. Wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Returned to her seat.

---

Then John turned to Claire.

“Truth.”

She looked at him calmly. “Ask.”

“Do you ever picture someone else when we have sex?”

She answered too fast.

“Sometimes.”

John flinched.

“But I always finish with you,” she added softly.

That didn’t help.

It made it worse.

---

The bottle spun. Marcus to Nia.

“Dare,” she said immediately.

Marcus turned his gaze to Claire. “Describe her best sexual trait—just by watching her.”

Nia leaned back. Took her time. Let her eyes drift over Claire’s legs, her hands, her mouth.

“Control,” she said finally. “She knows how to break someone with a whisper. She’d take her time. Let you think you’re in charge… until you’re begging.”

Claire smiled.

John swallowed hard.

---

The bottle spun again.

Claire landed on Marcus.

She looked at him directly.

“Truth.”

Her voice was quieter now. But sharper.

“Have you ever imagined me walking into your room… in the middle of the night?”

Marcus didn’t blink.

“Not imagined,” he said. “I’ve prepared for it.”

Claire’s lips parted.

John felt the air leave his lungs.

Nia raised an eyebrow. “Well damn.”

---

The group agreed on the next dare together—something a little less direct.

Nia proposed it. “What would you do in the dark… with no one watching? No names. No consequences.”

They went around the circle.

John said nothing. Just stared at the floor.

Nia answered first. “Let someone **** me while I begged for it.”

Marcus said, “Tie someone up and keep her guessing.”

Then it was Claire’s turn.

She took her time.

“I’d get on my knees,” she said softly. “And not ask who it was.”

That landed like a slap.

John looked up slowly.

Claire’s eyes were on the wall. Not him. Not anyone.

---

Later, the bottle found Claire again.

She looked at John, her voice smooth.

“Truth.”

He nodded.

“Would you still love me,” she asked, “if I crossed the line?”

The air in the room went still.

He didn’t answer at first.

Then: “I don’t know.”

Claire smiled faintly. “I think you do.”

---

Next round. Nia leaned forward. “One more. Just one.”

She turned to Claire.

“Describe how you’d sound… if it wasn’t John making you moan.”

Claire leaned back. Closed her eyes.

Took a long breath.

Then said: “Louder. Slower. Shocked.”

A pause.

“Like I didn’t expect it to fit.”

John’s cock throbbed.

No one spoke.

Claire stood and walked to the kitchen, hips swaying like nothing had happened.

The rest of them just sat there—burning.