Chapter 2336 - App 81

Jayden stood there for a long moment after the kiss—cheeks burning, lips still tingling, detective jacket suddenly feeling too tight across her shoulders. She glanced sideways at Gabriela and Samantha, both watching with warm, knowing smiles that made her want to sink through the floor.

Gabriela's grin was pure mischief. She leaned her head on my shoulder, massive tits pressing softly against my arm.

"Detective Jayden..." she teased in that sultry, melodic voice, "I thought you were already part of our little family. But it looks like I missed something delicious."

Jayden's blush deepened to a near-crimson. She ducked her head, fingers flexing around the edge of her leather jacket like she wanted to hide inside it.

"I... I just..." she stammered, voice quieter than I'd ever heard it. "He asked me... a while back... about being his... You know. I didn't say yes right away. I was scared. I have Patricia... my husband... the job... everything. But I haven't stopped thinking about it. About him."

Samantha—still tucked against my other side—reached out shyly and touched Jayden's wrist.

"It's okay," she whispered. "I was scared too... at first. But Jack... he's good. He keeps us safe. He loves us. Really loves us."

Jayden's eyes flicked up—meeting Samantha's gentle gaze, then Gabriela's encouraging one, then finally mine. Something in her expression softened, like a wall she'd been holding up for years finally cracked.

I stepped closer again—slowly this time—wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her against my chest. She stiffened for half a second, then melted into the hug, forehead dropping to my shoulder.

"I promise you won't regret it," I murmured against her hair. "I'll take care of you... and Patricia. Both of you. No more worrying alone. No more carrying everything on your shoulders. You'll have me. You'll have all of us."

Jayden nodded against me—small, shaky, but certain.

"Okay..." she breathed. "Okay."

Gabriela chuckled softly, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from Jayden's face.

"Come with us to America," I said, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. "Bring Patricia. Let us take care of her. Let us be the family she deserves... and the one you deserve."

Jayden swallowed hard. "I... I want that. I want it so much."

"And about your husband..." I added quietly.

Jayden's jaw tightened—just for a second—then she exhaled.

"I'm thinking of divorcing him," she said, voice steadier now. "I've been thinking about it for months. He's... he's not a bad man."

I nodded—no judgment, no pressure.

"Okay. Do as you wish. If you need help—legal, financial, anything—call me. Or contact my lawyer team. Julie brought them with her; they're already on standby. They'll prepare a divorce settlement case that'll leave him with nothing he doesn't deserve."

Jayden gave a small, grateful laugh—almost disbelieving.

"You really mean that, don't you?"

"Every word."

I leaned in—slowly this time—and kissed her gently on the lips. Soft. Reassuring. A promise.

Jayden kissed back—hesitant at first, then deeper, her hands clutching the front of my shirt like she was afraid I'd vanish. When we parted, she was breathing hard, eyes glassy.

She glanced sideways at Gabriela and Samantha—both smiling warmly, no jealousy, only welcome.

Jayden ducked her head again—shy, almost girlish.

"I'll... I'll go talk to Patricia," she mumbled, stepping back but not letting go of my shirt completely. "She's with my sister right now. I need to... explain things. Slowly."

I nodded. "Take your time. We're not leaving for a few hours. And when you're ready... We'll be waiting."

Jayden gave one last lingering look—eyes shining—then turned and practically ran out of the room, leather jacket flapping behind her like a cape.

The door clicked shut.

Gabriela let out a soft laugh and snuggled closer to my side.

"She's adorable when she's flustered," she teased. "Our tough detective... blushing like a schoolgirl."

Samantha giggled quietly, hiding her face against my shoulder.

"She's going to be so happy with us... I can feel it."

I wrapped my arms around both Gabriela and Samantha, pulling them tight against my chest. Gabriela's soft curves molded perfectly to my side, her head resting on my shoulder with a contented sigh, while Samantha nestled closer, her smaller frame trembling slightly with lingering emotion and happiness.

"Yeah," I murmured softly into Gabriela's hair, voice low and reassuring. "She will. Jayden's tough... but she's ours now. All of us."

Gabriela kissed the side of my neck gently. "She'll fit right in. Just like Samantha did." She glanced at the younger woman with a warm, protective smile. "Right, little sister?"

Samantha blushed deeper but nodded, fingers clutching my shirt. "Yes... I'm so happy... I still can't believe it..."

I gave them both one last squeeze, then reluctantly loosened my hold.

"Alright... time to play the part again," I said quietly. "Yuko might come to meet me anytime now. She needs to believe I'm hurt."

Gabriela immediately understood. She stepped back, reaching for the fresh roll of bandages Julie had left on the side table earlier.

"Lie down, mi amor," she said, voice soft but playful. "Let your 'concerned aunt' fix you up one more time."

I lay back on the bed, kicking off the loose pants for a moment so I could adjust them properly beneath the gown—leaving my chest bare except for the bandages. Gabriela knelt beside me, her massive tits swaying heavily as she leaned over.

She unwound the old gauze with careful fingers, then began wrapping new strips tightly across my heart area—professional, precise, but with a teasing slowness that made my skin tingle.

"Poor baby," she cooed under her breath, just for me. "All bandaged up like a wounded hero... while we both know you could lift this entire hospital bed with one hand. Such a good actor..."

I smirked up at her. "Keep talking like that and the bandages won't be the only thing getting tight."

She giggled—soft, wicked—then pressed a quick kiss to the center of the fresh dressing.

"There. Perfect. Yuko won't suspect a thing."

Samantha hovered nearby, eyes wide and adoring, still clutching the edge of her new skirt like she needed something to ground herself.

"You're... really good at pretending," she whispered. "It's... kind of hot."

Gabriela winked at her. "Wait until you see him pretend to be helpless while we ride him later. He's very convincing."

Before Samantha could combust from embarrassment, the door opened again.

Julie entered first—calm, collected, but with that unmistakable post-sex glow still clinging to her skin. Lorena followed, eyes bright and curious.

Sarah strode in next—confident, smirking, already in on the game. Marina brought up the rear—tablet in hand, ever the organizer. And finally, Yuko—hovering near the back, discharge papers clutched in her hands, expression a careful mix of relief and lingering guilt.

Sarah reached me first. She leaned down, gave me an exaggerated wink, and whispered just loud enough for the others to hear:

"Looking awfully alive for a dying man, Jack. Should I start crying again for the drama?"

I smirked. Julie had clearly filled her in—Sarah knew the injuries were fake. Her playful energy cut through the room like a spark.

Julie's eyes flicked immediately to Samantha—standing quietly near the bed, still flushed, new clothes pristine, but her lips still faintly swollen from earlier.

"And who's this?" Julie asked, voice light but probing.

Gabriela answered smoothly—stepping forward with a warm, innocent smile.

"She's Samantha. Hotel staff. I asked her to help Jack wash up and change his clothes while we were all... losing our minds earlier. She's been very sweet."

Yuko looked over—blinked once—then gave Samantha a small, grateful nod.

"Thank you..." she said softly, voice sincere. "For taking care of him."

She didn't think much of it. To Yuko, Samantha was just another kind stranger—hotel staff doing her job. No threat. No suspicion. Just another person who'd helped while she drowned in guilt.

But Julie, Lorena, Sarah, and Marina?

They knew.

Their eyes locked on Samantha—sharp, assessing, amused. They saw the blush that wouldn't fade, the way her gaze kept darting to me with shy adoration, the faint tremble in her fingers, the way she stood just a little too close to the bed.

Julie's lips curved into a slow, wicked smile.

Lorena bit her lip to hide a grin.

Sarah outright smirked—crossing her arms and leaning against the wall like she was watching the best show in town.

Marina—ever the professional—simply raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow and made a tiny note on her tablet.

Yuko—oblivious—moved closer to the bed, gently touching the fresh bandages over my chest.

"You're really okay?" she whispered. "

I nodded—reaching up to squeeze her hand.

"Yeah. I'm good. Thanks for handling it, Yuko."

She smiled—small, relieved—but her eyes still carried that heavy guilt.

Yuko hesitated—then perched on the very edge of the mattress, still keeping a careful distance from the others, as if she didn't quite belong in their circle. Her hands twisted in her lap, eyes fixed on the fresh bandages over my chest like they were the only safe thing to look at.

Julie stepped forward smoothly, laying a maternal hand on Yuko's shoulder—gentle, but firm enough to make the younger woman tense.

"Yuko, I apologise to you..." Julie said softly, voice low and sincere. "For before. I was angry... scared... because Jack got hurt. I know you've been taking care of him—staying up all night, watching over him, worrying yourself sick. You don't need to beat yourself up anymore."

Yuko shook her head quickly—almost violently—hair falling across her face like a curtain.

"No... " You don't need to apologise," she whispered, voice cracking. "It's my fault. I'm the one who hurt Jack. I... I lost control. I thought... I thought the worst things. I don't deserve your kindness."

Julie sighed—soft, almost fond—and squeezed Yuko's shoulder.

"Okay... okay. Jack's the only one who can really handle you." She glanced at me with a small, knowing smile. "Let me tell you, though—she hasn't slept all night. She's been pacing, waiting for morning, desperate to come here and see you. Worried sick, you'd hate her."

Yuko's face flared crimson. She ducked her head, refusing to meet my eyes, but I could see the way her fingers clenched tighter in her lap.

I reached out—slowly, gently—and took her hand.

"Thank you, Sister Yuko," I said quietly, voice warm and steady. "But don't worry. I'm totally fine now. Even my injuries are healing quickly... see? No pain. No scars that matter. So don't blame yourself anymore. Please."

Yuko's eyes finally lifted—shiny, uncertain, hopeful. She squeezed my hand back—small, trembling.

"Really...?" she whispered. "You're... you're not angry?"

I shook my head.

"Not even a little."

She exhaled shakily—relief washing over her features like sunlight breaking through clouds.

I was chatting quietly with Yuko—her voice still soft and tentative, fingers nervously smoothing the edge of the blanket—when she suddenly glanced over at Samantha, who was standing near the foot of the bed, still glowing from earlier.

"Lady Samantha," Yuko said gently, "can you ask the hotel staff to prepare some soup for Jack? Something warm... he needs to eat properly."

Samantha blinked—surprised at being addressed so politely—then nodded quickly, a shy smile touching her lips.

"Of course... right away."

She slipped out of the room, skirt swishing softly, leaving a faint trace of her perfume behind.

Yuko watched her go for a second, then stood up without a word. She moved to the small couch near the window, picked up an apple from the fruit basket someone had left, and began peeling it with careful, practiced motions—knife gliding smoothly, red skin curling away in one long spiral. It was a small, domestic act, but her hands trembled slightly, betraying how much guilt still weighed on her.

Sarah took the opportunity.

She sauntered over to my bedside—casual, hips swaying—and positioned herself so her back was to Yuko on the couch. From Yuko's angle, she could only see Sarah's silhouette blocking most of me.

Sarah leaned down slowly—elbows resting on the mattress edge, face inches from mine—her smirk sharp and filthy.

"How was that little Samantha's pussy, hmm?" she whispered, breath hot against my ear. "I saw her limping when she walked out. Guess you fucked her hard, didn't you? Stretched that tight maid cunt until she couldn't walk straight... bet she's still dripping you right now."

I matched her smirk—tilting my head so our lips nearly brushed.

"What, don't tell me you're jealous?" I whispered back, voice low enough that only she could hear.

Sarah didn't even pretend to deny it.

"Yeah," she breathed, eyes darkening. "I'm fucking jealous. Watched her limp away like she'd been ruined... and here I am, still waiting for my turn to get wrecked by that cock."

I chuckled under my breath—quiet, dark.

"You're coming with us to America, Sarah. Plenty of time on the plane... in the house... wherever. You'll get your turn. Multiple turns."

Sarah's breath hitched. She licked her lips—slow, deliberate.

"Don't worry," she murmured. "I already packed my stuff. Brought it to Marina's place. We're all leaving together... and I'm not letting you out of my sight once we're airborne."

I nodded—just a small tilt of my chin.

"Good girl."

Sarah straightened up—still smirking—then casually stepped aside so Yuko could see me again.

A few minutes later, the door opened.

Samantha returned—carrying a small tray with a steaming bowl of soup, a spoon, and a napkin. She looked flushed from hurrying, but her eyes lit up when they landed on me.

Yuko immediately stood, took the tray from her with a quiet "Thank you," and moved back to the bed. She sat carefully on the edge—close to me now, but still mindful of the others—and blew gently on the first spoonful, cooling it with soft puffs of breath.

Her cheeks pinked as she felt all the eyes in the room on her—Julie, Lorena, Sarah, Marina, Gabriela, Samantha—all watching with varying degrees of amusement and warmth.

"Quickly heal yourself..." Yuko murmured, voice barely above a whisper as she brought the spoon to my lips. "Otherwise... Haruna might not forgive me..."

I took the bite—warm, savory—then looked around at the circle of women.

"Aunt Julie..." I said clearly, addressing the room. "Please don't let Haruna know anything about this. It won't be good for her to know about Yuko... and this was just a misunderstanding. I don't want her dragged into guilt or drama."

Julie nodded immediately—serious, maternal.

"I know, sweetheart. We don't want to harm the relationship between sisters. So Yuko..." She turned to the younger woman, voice gentle but firm. "Don't worry. We're not telling Haruna a thing. And you should never mention it again, either. Let it stay here—between us. Okay?"

Yuko's eyes filled—slight tears brimming—but she nodded quickly, swallowing hard.

"Hmmmm..." she managed, voice thick. "Okay... thank you..."

She fed me another spoonful—hands steadier now—while the others watched in comfortable silence.

Sarah leaned against the wall again, smirking at me over Yuko's head.

Good boy, she mouthed silently. Playing the saint while we all know you're the devil.

Gabriela reached over and squeezed my ankle affectionately under the blanket—her fingers lingering, warm and teasing, tracing small circles that sent a lazy spark up my leg.

She kept her expression perfectly innocent for Yuko's sake, but the sly little curl of her lips told me she knew exactly what she was doing.

Sarah, meanwhile, had grown bolder.

She stood casually behind Yuko—positioning herself so the younger woman couldn't see her front—then reached up and popped the top two buttons of her shirt open with slow, deliberate movements.

The fabric parted like a curtain, revealing a deep, mouthwatering valley of cleavage—her full, heavy breasts pushed together by the motion, creamy skin glowing under the hospital lights, the black lace of her bra peeking out just enough to frame the soft mounds.

She pressed her arms together slightly—deepening the cleavage even more—until the inner curves nearly spilled over, nipples faintly visible as hard little points straining against the lace.

Yuko—still sitting on the edge of the bed, focused on feeding me soup—didn't notice a thing. Her back was to Sarah, her attention entirely on the spoon she was blowing cool before bringing it to my lips.

Sarah caught my eye over Yuko's shoulder.

Her smirk was pure sin.

She mouthed silently: Like what you see?

I swallowed the spoonful of soup Yuko offered—warm, savory—but my throat suddenly felt tight for a different reason. My cock—already half-hard from the earlier teasing—gave a sharp throb beneath the blanket, thickening against my thigh, the head pushing insistently against the fabric of my pants. I shifted slightly, trying to hide the growing bulge, but the movement only made it worse.

Yuko tilted her head, noticing my slight flinch.

"Is it too hot?" she asked softly, concern creasing her brow. "I can blow on it more..."

I forced a small, reassuring smile.

"No... It's perfect. Thank you, Yuko."

She smiled back—small, shy—and prepared the next spoonful.

Behind her, Sarah bit her lower lip to stifle a laugh. She arched her back just a fraction—making her tits thrust forward even more dramatically—then slowly dragged one finger down the center of her cleavage, tracing the deep line between her breasts.

She hooked the edge of her bra cup with her fingertip and tugged it down just enough to flash one dusky nipple—hard, dark, begging—before letting the fabric snap back into place.

My cock jerked hard—precum leaking against my pants now, a small wet spot forming under the blanket.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from groaning.

Sarah's eyes sparkled with wicked delight. She mouthed again—silent, taunting:

Jealous yet? Wait till the plane... I'm sitting next to you.

Gabriela—still holding my ankle—noticed the tension in my body. Her fingers slid higher under the blanket—slowly, secretly—until they brushed the thickening length of my cock through the pants. She gave it one slow, firm stroke—thumb circling the head through the fabric—then squeezed gently.

Gabriela pulled her hand back just in time—sliding it smoothly out from under the blanket before Yuko could turn her head and notice the subtle movement.

She gave me a quick, conspiratorial wink, then sat up straighter, folding her hands innocently in her lap like she hadn't just been stroking me under the covers.

Samantha, meanwhile, stood frozen near the foot of the bed—still flushed from everything earlier, fingers twisting the hem of her new skirt. Her eyes kept darting between me, Yuko, and the other women, like she wasn't sure where to look or how to stand without drawing attention.

Julie noticed.

She glided over to Samantha with that slow, predatory grace she always had—casual, maternal on the surface, but pure mischief underneath.

She leaned in close—lips brushing the shell of Samantha's ear—and whispered something too quiet for anyone else to hear.

Samantha's reaction was immediate.

Her entire face ignited—cheeks going from pink to scarlet in half a second. Her eyes widened, then dropped to the floor as if the tiles had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world. She bit her lower lip hard, shoulders hunching slightly, and gave one tiny, shy nod—barely perceptible.

Julie pulled back with a satisfied little smile—patting Samantha's arm as she'd just given her a perfectly reasonable instruction.

Samantha swallowed visibly, then glanced at me—eyes glassy, pupils blown, a fresh wave of heat crawling down her neck and disappearing under her blouse collar. Whatever Julie had said, it had clearly hit hard.

I finished the last spoonful of soup—Yuko's careful, gentle feeding, leaving me warm inside—and leaned back against the pillows with a small, contented sigh.

Yuko set the bowl aside on the tray table, then reached for the napkin. Instead of using it, though, she hesitated... then lifted her bare hand. Her index finger brushed my lower lip—soft, tentative—wiping away a tiny drop of broth that had lingered at the corner of my mouth.

Her touch was feather-light, almost reverent. Her cheeks flushed a deep rose as she realized what she was doing—finger still resting against my lip for one heartbeat too long.

"Now..." she whispered, voice barely audible, eyes flicking down to my chest then quickly away again, "...lie down and rest for a while. Aunt Julie already booked the plane... it's for tonight."

She swallowed hard—her finger finally retreating, but the warmth of it lingered on my skin.

I nodded slowly—holding her gaze for just a second longer than necessary.

"Thank you, Sister Yuko," I said quietly, letting my voice drop into that gentle, reassuring register she always melted for. "You've taken such good care of me."

Her blush deepened to scarlet. She ducked her head, tucking a damp strand of hair behind her ear.

"I... I just want you to be okay," she mumbled. "That's all."

She stood—still hovering for a moment like she didn't quite want to leave my side—then stepped back toward the couch, smoothing her sweater nervously.

Behind her, the other women watched the exchange with varying degrees of amusement and heat.

-x-X-x-

Yuko's blush deepened to a vivid scarlet the moment she realized how intimately she'd just touched my lips—her fingertip still hovering near my mouth for a heartbeat too long. She yanked her hand back as if burned, eyes wide and glassy, lips parting in silent horror at her own boldness.

"I... I am going back..." she stammered, voice cracking on every syllable. "I still need to pack a few things..."

She didn't wait for anyone to respond. She spun on her heel—hair whipping behind her—and practically fled the room, footsteps quick and flustered, door swinging shut with a soft thud that felt louder than it should have.

The silence that followed was thick—charged.

I let out a low, amused chuckle, shaking my head as I watched the door settle.

Julie stepped forward immediately—hips swaying with that familiar, predatory grace—until she stood right beside the bed. She looked down at me, arms crossed under her chest, one perfect brow arched in mock disapproval.

"Husband..." she said, voice low and teasing, but with a thread of genuine fondness underneath.

"You've become really bad. Poor girl Yuko... she's completely manipulated by you. Wrapped around your little finger and doesn't even know it yet. I almost feel bad... bullying her like this, letting her drown in guilt while you play the wounded saint."

I chuckled again—darker this time—and reached out fast. My hand closed around her wrist, yanking her forward with casual strength. She stumbled half a step—gasping in delighted surprise—and I pulled her straight down onto my lap, straddling my thighs, her skirt riding up instantly to expose the tops of her stockings.

Julie's breath hitched. Her hands flew to my shoulders for balance, tits pressing against my bandaged chest through her blouse.

"What are you doing—?" she stammered, voice cracking into a half-laugh, half-moan. "Everyone is watching...!"

I grinned up at her—unrepentant—hands already sliding up the backs of her thighs, under her skirt, gripping the firm, warm flesh of her ass.

"Hmph..." I murmured, voice rough and teasing. "I didn't expect my wife to still be so shy. There's no outsider here, Julie. They're all your sisters now."

I tilted my head toward the room—Gabriela lounging on the edge of the bed with a wicked smile, Samantha standing frozen near the door with wide eyes and parted lips, Sarah leaning against the wall with her shirt still scandalously open, cleavage heaving as she bit her lip to stifle a laugh, Lorena perched on the armrest giggling behind her hand, Marina calmly tapping her tablet but watching with a small, amused curve to her mouth.

Julie's blush flared brighter—rare for her—but she didn't try to pull away. Instead, she shifted her hips deliberately, grinding down once against the growing bulge in my pants, letting me feel how wet she already was through her panties.

Suddenly, the sharp trill of a phone cut through the room's heavy, post-tease quiet.

Everyone's heads turned.

It was Samantha's—vibrating insistently on the side table.

She froze—eyes widening in instant dread as she saw the caller ID flash on the screen: Nico.

Her hand trembled as she picked it up, voice barely a whisper.

"Jack... it's my ex-boyfriend... he's bothering me again..."

I chuckled—low, dark—and plucked the phone from her fingers before she could answer.

The screen glowed: Nico in bold letters, call timer already ticking.

I hit accept and put it to my ear.

"Hello..."

A furious male voice exploded through the speaker—loud enough that everyone in the room could hear.

"Who the fuck are you? Where is Samantha? Put her on right now!"

I leaned back against the pillows—casual, unbothered—while Julie chose that exact moment to press herself tighter against my lap. Her soaked panties dragged along the length of my cock through my pants, her hips rolling in a slow, deliberate grind that made my breath hitch. The thick head caught against her clit; she bit her lip to stifle a moan—but not quite fast enough.

I groaned—low, involuntary—right into the phone.

Nico's voice cracked with rage.

"What the hell was that? Where is she? Give her the phone right fucking now!"

I let another groan slip out—louder this time—as Julie rocked harder, her wet heat soaking through my pants, her breath hot against my neck.

"Samantha..." I said slowly, voice rough with pleasure, "...she's hmm... busy..."

Julie pressed down again—grinding her clit directly over the throbbing ridge of my cock—making me hiss through my teeth.

Nico practically snarled.

"Busy doing what? Who the fuck are you? Put her on!"

I laughed—short, dark—and tightened my grip on Julie's hips, pulling her down harder so my cock slotted perfectly between her soaked folds through the fabric.

"Didn't I tell you she's busy?" I said, voice dropping into something cold and dangerous. "Her mouth is already full... she can't speak right now. And stop bothering her."

I hung up.

The line went dead.

Silence crashed back into the room—thick, electric.

Julie let out a soft, filthy laugh against my throat, hips still rolling in slow, teasing circles.

"That was cruel," she whispered, voice dripping with approval. "And so fucking hot."

Samantha stood frozen—eyes huge, cheeks flaming, thighs clenched so tight her knees knocked together.

"Jack..." she breathed, voice shaking. "You... you just... told him..."

I smirked—reaching out with my free hand to cup Samantha's cheek, thumb brushing the lingering wetness of her tears and the faint gloss of cum still on her lower lip.

"Samantha," I said, voice low and calm, "I have an idea. Why don't we make the lie the truth... show it to your ex-boyfriend... so that he can willingly give up."

Samantha's eyes widened—pupils dilating in surprise. A fresh wave of crimson flooded her cheeks, spreading down her throat and disappearing under the collar of her new blouse.

"What... what lie?" she whispered, voice trembling, though the way her thighs clenched together told me she already knew.

I chuckled—dark, patient—letting my thumb trace the curve of her bottom lip.

"The lie about your mouth being full..."

Samantha's breath caught audibly. Understanding hit her like a spark—her lips parted on a tiny, shocked gasp, eyes flicking down to my lap where my cock was already thickening again beneath the blanket.

She looked up at me—wide-eyed, panicked, aroused—cheeks burning so hot I could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

"You... you mean..." she stammered, voice barely a breath.

I took her phone from her limp fingers—unlocked it, and opened the camera app. I handed it to Julie, who was already grinning like a cat with cream.

"Here," I said. "Help me shoot."

Julie shifted immediately—graceful, shameless—climbing onto the bed and swinging one leg over my head until she straddled my face. Her tight pencil dress rode up her thighs, bunching around her hips, exposing the black lace of her panties pressed directly against my mouth.

The fabric was already damp—warm, musky, tasting of her earlier arousal. She grinded down once—slow, deliberate—smearing her wetness across my lips.

"Mmm..." Julie hummed, adjusting the phone angle above us. "Perfect view. Samantha's pretty little mouth... your thick cock... my pussy on your face... this video's going to break that boy's heart."

Sarah—still leaning against the wall—pushed off and sauntered closer, voice low and encouraging.

"Why don't you give it a try, Samantha?" she purred. "Show Nico exactly why you don't need him anymore. Show him what a good girl you are for Jack."

Samantha gulped—loud enough for everyone to hear. Her hands trembled as she climbed onto the bed, knees sinking into the mattress between my spread legs.

She hesitated—eyes flicking nervously to Julie (who was now recording steadily, hips rocking in slow circles over my mouth), to Gabriela (smiling warmly from the side), to Sarah (watching with predatory glee), to Marina (calmly observing, tablet set aside), to Lorena (giggling softly behind her hand).

I lifted my hips slightly—enough to make my cock strain against the front of my pants.

"Go on," I murmured against Julie's panties—voice muffled but clear. "Julie... start recording."

Julie tapped the screen—red dot blinking to life.

"Rolling," she whispered, grinding down harder so my tongue pressed against the soaked lace covering her clit. "Show him, little sister. Show Nico what a full mouth really looks like."

Samantha's fingers shook as she reached for my waistband—unbuttoning, unzipping, tugging my pants down just enough. My cock sprang free—thick, veiny, already leaking—slapping her cheek with a heavy thwack.

A red mark bloomed instantly across her pale skin.

"Aaaha...!" Samantha gasped—half pain, half shock—eyes fluttering as the hot, musky scent of me filled her nose.

Julie, Gabriela, Sarah, Marina, and Lorena all let out soft, delighted chuckles—watching the fat cock leave its imprint on the shy maid's face.

"Fuck... that was beautiful," Sarah breathed. "Do it again. Let it mark her."

Samantha whimpered—lips parting instinctively—then leaned forward. Her small hands wrapped around the base—barely able to circle the girth—and she guided the swollen head to her mouth.

The camera caught everything: the way her lips stretched wide around the head, the soft pop as she took it inside, the way her cheeks hollowed on the first slow suck. Precum smeared across her tongue; she moaned around it—vibrations traveling straight up my cock.

Julie rocked harder against my face—moaning low as my tongue pushed the soaked lace aside and plunged into her dripping cunt.

"Mmm... look at her go," Julie purred into the phone. "Samantha's mouth... so full already... stretching around your cock, Jack... bet Nico never got this deep. Bet he never made her gag like this..."

Samantha did gag—softly—when I thrust up gently, pushing another inch past her lips. Tears pricked her eyes, but she didn't pull back. Instead, she hollowed her cheeks harder, sucking with desperate devotion, tongue swirling around the underside while her hands stroked what wouldn't fit.

Gabriela leaned in—stroking Samantha's hair gently.

"Good girl... take him deeper... show that ex what he lost... let Jack fuck your throat while Julie rides his face... mmm... you're so pretty like this... choking on cock for your new family..."

Sarah stepped closer—reaching down to pinch one of Samantha's nipples through her blouse.

"Deeper, little Samantha," she whispered. "Make him cum down your throat. Film it all for Nico... let him see what a perfect cocksleeve you've become."

Samantha moaned around my cock—vibrations making my hips buck—tears streaming now, but her hips rocked back against nothing, pussy dripping through her panties onto the sheets.

Julie grinded down harder—smearing her wetness across my tongue and chin—moaning into the phone.

"That's it... suck him... gag on him... show the world why you belong to Jack now... mmm... my pussy's dripping on his face while you choke on his cock... perfect little sisters... perfect little sluts..."

The camera kept rolling.

Samantha's throat worked frantically—bulging obscenely with every desperate bob of her head, the thick outline of my cock clearly visible sliding down her slender neck like a living bulge.

She forced herself deeper, gagging wetly around my girth, her lips stretched paper-thin around the veiny cock as saliva poured from the corners of her mouth in thick, messy strings that dripped onto my balls and soaked the sheets below.

"Fuck... that's it, you little cocksleeve," I groaned loudly, hips bucking up instinctively.

"Choke on my fat cock... take every fucking inch down that greedy throat... look at you—tears streaming, mascara running, drooling like a cheap whore... your mouth feels so fucking hot and tight... like a wet velvet glove squeezing my dick... goddamn, Samantha... you're sucking me so good I can feel your throat milking the head..."

She only used her mouth now—no hands—just pure, sloppy deepthroating, forcing her face down until her nose smashed against my pubic bone and her chin pressed against my heavy balls.

Her throat convulsed violently around me—tight, rippling spasms that massaged every inch of my cock as she gagged and retched, teary eyes dripping hot tears down her flushed cheeks.

I groaned again—deeper, filthier—my voice rough with raw pleasure.

"Shit... your throat's convulsing so hard... it's like your esophagus is trying to swallow my cock whole... fuck, I can feel the head popping into your stomach... you're such a nasty little cumdump... gagging and crying but still pushing deeper... keep going—choke yourself on me—make those pretty eyes water more..."

Samantha pulled back suddenly—coughing violently, thick ropes of spit and precum connecting her swollen, ruined lips to my glistening cockhead in long, sloppy strands. She hacked twice, gasping for air, chest heaving as strings of drool hung from her chin and dripped onto her new blouse.

Marina leaned in from the side, smirking cruelly as she watched the wrecked maid struggle for breath.

"What happened, little maid?" she teased, voice dripping with mockery. "Can't handle Master's cock? Get used to it... your throat's going to be ruined every single day from now on."

Samantha wiped her mouth with the back of her trembling hand—still coughing softly—then stared at my throbbing, spit-shiny length with wide, lust-drunk eyes.

"It's... it's gotten even bigger..." she rasped, voice hoarse and broken from the brutal throat-fucking. "So fucking thick... stretching my jaw... my throat feels raw... like it's been fucked by a baseball bat... but... but I love it... love choking on it... love how it makes me gag and drool like a pathetic slut..."

She turned her tear-streaked face toward the phone camera Julie was holding steady—recording every filthy second. Samantha's expression twisted into something defiant and mocking, mascara running in black rivers down her cheeks.

"Nico..." she spat into the lens, voice raw but dripping with cruel satisfaction.

"Just forget it. You can never compare to this. Your tiny little pee-pee... It's fucking nothing. Look at this cock—look how it stretches my mouth, how it chokes me, how it owns my throat."

"You could never make me cry like this... never make me gag and drool like a brainless whore... never make me beg for more..."

She wrapped both small hands around my massive cock—barely able to encircle the girth—and shook it deliberately, slapping the heavy, leaking head against her outstretched tongue with loud, wet thwack-thwack-thwack sounds.

"See this, you pathetic loser?" she taunted the camera. "This is what a real man's cock looks like. Thick. Veiny. Throbbing. Making me gag... making me cry... making me his perfect little throat-fuck toy. You? You're nothing. Just a sad memory with a baby dick. Goodbye, Nico."

Then she dove back down—gulping my cock deep again—throat opening wide, gagging wetly as she forced every brutal inch past her tonsils until her nose smashed flush against my pelvis and her chin pressed against my balls.

I groaned long and loud—"Fuuuuck... yes... swallow it all... choke yourself on my dick... your throat feels like a hot, spasming cunt... milking me so fucking good... keep gagging... keep crying... I'm gonna flood your stomach..."

At the same moment, I grabbed Julie's hips with both hands—yanking the hem of her tight pencil dress all the way up around her waist until her black lace panties were completely exposed, soaked through, and clinging obscenely to her swollen pussy lips and tight asshole.

Julie yelped in surprise—"Jack—!"

I didn't hesitate.

I hooked my teeth into the crotch of her panties—biting down hard—and ripped them aside with a savage tug of my head.

The lace tore with a sharp riiiip, exposing her dripping cunt and her dirty little asshole—tight, puckered, already twitching and glistening with a faint sheen of sweat and arousal.

Without any warning, I buried my face between her plump ass cheeks—tongue spearing straight into her filthy, musky asshole, plunging deep into the hot, velvety ring.

Julie's entire body jolted violently.

"AAHH—FUCK—JACK—!" she screamed in raw, surprised pleasure, hips bucking forward so hard she nearly fell off my face.

"Your tongue—right in my dirty asshole—oh my god—so deep—filthy—nasty—nnh—don't stop—eat my shithole—tongue-fuck my dirty ass—aaah—yes—deeper—you're licking my asshole like a starving animal—fuck—yes—!"

I activated Body Manipulation

—stretching my tongue longer, thicker, impossibly deep—pushing it far into her tight back passage, swirling and thrusting like a second cock while my lips sealed around her puckered ring and sucked hard.

Her asshole tasted filthy—musky, slightly bitter, hot, and velvety—and it clenched and spasmed wildly around my invading tongue, the tight ring fluttering and gripping as I tongue-fucked her relentlessly.

Julie's moans turned into animalistic screams—high, broken, shameless.

"FUUUCK—your tongue—stretching my dirty shithole—deeper—oh shit—gonna cum—gonna squirt—Jack—eating my nasty asshole—while Samantha chokes on your cock—aaah—yes—harder—tongue-fuck my ass—suck my dirty hole—nnh—cumming—cumming so hard—!"

Her body seized violently—thighs clamping around my head like a vice—and she exploded.

A massive, powerful gush of hot squirt erupted from her cunt—spraying in forceful, messy jets straight across Samantha's face, hair, shoulders, and tits.

The clear fluid drenched Samantha as she desperately gulped on my cock—squirt mixing with her tears and drool, soaking her new blouse until it clung transparently to her skin.

"Glk—! Madam's squirt—splashing all over my face—tastes so fucking good—mixed with Master's precum—aaah—choking—swallowing—love it—more—give me more—!"

Julie kept grinding back against my face—asshole clenching rhythmically around my elongated tongue—squirting again and again in powerful, uncontrollable waves until the sheets beneath us were completely drenched and the room reeked of her pussy and ass.

"AAHH—yes—squirt—squirt all over her—while you tongue-fuck my dirty shithole—fuck—your tongue's so deep—stretching me—making me cum like a whore—nnh—don't stop—eat my nasty ass—make me squirt again—aaah—cumming—cumming again—!"

When the last violent tremor finally passed, Julie slumped forward—panting, shaking, legs trembling—still straddling my face, her dripping cunt and gaping, spit-slick asshole pressed hotly against my lips.

Samantha pulled off my cock with a wet, obscene pop—thick strands of spit, precum, and Julie's squirt still connecting her swollen lips to the glistening head.

Her face was a complete wreck: mascara streaked in black rivers down her cheeks, hair matted and dripping with Julie's hot squirt, chin and neck shining with the mixed fluids that had sprayed across her during Julie's explosive orgasm.

She looked up at me—eyes glassy, teary, defiant—and wrapped both trembling hands around my still-throbbing cock.

"It's been ten minutes..." she rasped, voice hoarse and wrecked from the brutal throat-fucking. "It's still so fucking hard... so thick... still leaking... how... how are you not done yet...?"

She stared at my cock in genuine shock and awe—watching it pulse in her grip, veins bulging, the fat head flushed dark and slick, another fat bead of precum welling at the slit and dripping down the underside.

Gabriela—still straddling my thigh, her own pussy dripping fresh arousal onto my skin—leaned forward with a wicked, knowing smile.

She cupped one of her own massive tits, squeezing it until the nipple poked hard against her dress, then glanced down at Samantha's chest.

"Why don't you put it between your tits?" Gabriela purred, voice low and filthy. "He won't cum that easily with just a tit-fuck... but I know he loves my tits... and yours are almost as big as mine, aren't they? Come on, little sister... show Jack how your fat udders feel wrapped around his cock."

Samantha's blush exploded across her face—cheeks, neck, even her ears turning scarlet—but she didn't hesitate. With shaking hands, she grabbed the hem of her new polo shirt and yanked it over her head in one frantic motion.

The fabric caught briefly on her bra before she tossed it aside. Her black lace bra barely contained her heavy breasts—already heaving with every quick breath, nipples stiff and dark, poking through the thin cups like they were desperate to be freed.

She didn't bother removing the bra completely. Instead, she pulled the cups down just enough—letting her full, creamy tits spill out over the lace.

They bounced free—heavy, pendulous, the undersides pale and veined, nipples thick and long, already swollen from arousal and the earlier teasing.

"Fuck... look at those," Sarah breathed from the side, eyes hungry. "Almost as big as Gabriela's... perfect for wrapping around cock."

Samantha gulped—then leaned forward, pressing her massive tits together with both hands. She guided my slick, throbbing cock into the deep, warm valley between them—squeezing her breasts tight around my cock until the head poked out the top, precum smearing across her sternum.

"Oh god... It's so hot... so thick..." she whimpered, starting to slide her tits up and down my length in slow, deliberate strokes. The soft, heavy flesh enveloped me completely—velvet skin, lace edges scraping deliciously along the sides—while she bent her head and sucked the leaking tip into her mouth every time it emerged.

"Mmmph—sucking the head... tasting your precum... while my tits fuck your cock... aaah... it's so dirty... so good... my nipples... rubbing against your cock... they're so hard... so sensitive..."

I groaned—loud, guttural—hips bucking up into her tight tit-tunnel.

"Fuck yes... squeeze those fat tits tighter around my dick... milk me with them... suck that head every time it pops out... you're such a perfect little tit-slut... look how they bounce... so heavy... so soft... gonna cum all over these big udders... gonna paint your face and tits white..."

Samantha moaned around the tip—vibrations shooting straight to my balls—her hands pressing her breasts even harder together, sliding faster now, the wet schlick-schlick of spit-slicked tit-flesh echoing through the room.

Julie—still straddling my face—ground down harder, panties shoved aside, her dripping cunt smearing across my lips and chin.

"Eat me, husband..." she hissed. "Suck my clit while Samantha tit-fucks you... mmm... look at her—big tits wrapped around your cock... sucking the head like a greedy whore... she's made for this... made to be used..."

I groaned into Julie's pussy—tongue plunging deep—then shifted lower, sealing my lips around her tight, puckered asshole again.

I pushed my tongue inside—long, thick from manipulation—fucking her back passage with deep, wet thrusts while my fingers rubbed her clit.

Julie screamed—high and broken.

"AAHH—your tongue in my dirty asshole again—fucking deep—stretching my shithole—while Samantha milks your cock with her fat tits—oh fuck—gonna squirt—gonna flood your face—nnh—yes—suck my nasty hole—make me cum—make me squirt all over that little maid—!"

Her body seized—thighs clamping around my head—and she exploded.

A massive, gushing torrent of hot squirt erupted from her cunt—spraying in powerful, messy jets straight across Samantha's face, tits, and hair.

The clear fluid drenched the maid as she kept sliding her breasts up and down my cock—squirt dripping from her chin, running down her cleavage, soaking her bra and skin until she glistened like she'd been oiled.

"Aaah—Madam's squirt—splashing everywhere—hot... sticky... all over my tits—my face—tastes so good—mixed with Master's precum—nnh—my nipples... rubbing against his shaft... so slippery now—aaah—gonna make him cum—gonna make him explode between my tits—!"

I groaned louder—hips bucking up into Samantha's tight tit-tunnel.

"Fuck—your tits feel too good—soft... heavy... squeezing my cock so tight—suck that head—milk me—gonna cum—gonna fill your mouth—gonna paint your face and those fat tits white—take it—take my load you dirty little tit-whore—!"

Samantha dove forward—lips sealing around the head just as the first thick rope erupted.

I exploded—hot, forceful jets shooting straight into her mouth, flooding her tongue, her cheeks, spilling past her lips when she couldn't swallow fast enough. She moaned around the spurting head—gulping desperately—cum overflowing, running down her chin, dripping onto her heaving tits in thick white ropes that mixed with Julie's squirt.

"Nico..." she rasped around my cock—voice wrecked, cum bubbling at the corners of her mouth—eyes locked on the camera. "This is what a real man does to me. Fills my throat... makes me choke... makes me cry... makes me drown in squirt while I gag on his cock. You? You were nothing. Just a pathetic loser with a tiny dick. Goodbye forever."

Julie—still catching her breath—tapped the screen and ended the recording with a trembling finger.

"Sent," she whispered, smirking wickedly. "Straight to Nico. With love from all of us."

Samantha collapsed forward—forehead resting on my thigh—panting, trembling, but smiling through the mess covering her face and tits.

"I... I did it..." she whispered hoarsely. "I told him... I showed him... I'm... I'm free now... all yours..."

I reached down—stroking her soaked hair gently, my fingers tangling in the wet strands still sticky with Julie's squirt and my cum.

"Good girl," I growled, voice thick with satisfaction. "You're mine now. Completely. And Nico will never bother you again."

Julie slid off my face—legs shaky, thighs glistening—then leaned down to kiss Samantha deeply, tongues sliding together as she tasted her own squirt and my cum on the younger woman's tongue.

"Welcome to the family, little sister," Julie purred against her lips. "You're going to love the plane ride... we're all going to break you in together—slow, deep, and filthy."

Samantha was still on her knees between my legs, face and tits absolutely drenched in Julie's thick squirt and the overflow of my cum.

Thick white ropes clung to her chin, dripped from her swollen nipples, and ran in sticky trails down the deep valley of her cleavage.

She looked like a complete whore — mascara ruined, hair matted, lips puffy and glossy — and she was still licking her lips like she couldn't get enough of the taste.

Suddenly, her phone rang again. The screen lit up with Nico's name — this time a video call.

Before she could even reach for it, I snatched the phone and answered.

"Oh... so you are Nico," I said calmly, my voice dripping with mockery as I turned the camera straight toward Samantha's cum-covered face and my still-throbbing cock.

Nico's face filled the screen — beet-red, veins popping, eyes bulging with pure rage.

"MOTHERFUCKER!!! I WILL KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH! AND THAT WHORE SAMANTHA — I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU BOTH, YOU SLUT!"

I smirked and angled the phone so the camera had a perfect close-up of Samantha's messy face and my heavy, cum-smeared cock still twitching in front of her lips.

"Samantha... your ex-boyfriend wants to talk to you."

Samantha didn't hesitate for a second.

She leaned forward, tongue sliding out long and slow, and dragged it from the base of my balls all the way up the thick, veiny underside of my cock — collecting every drop of leftover cum and Julie's squirt in one filthy, wet lick. She moaned loudly, deliberately, making sure the microphone picked up every nasty sound.

"Mmmph... fuck... Master's cock tastes so good... still so thick... still leaking for me..."

She looked straight into the camera, eyes teary but defiant, lips stretched in a mocking smile as she spoke directly to Nico while her tongue kept working.

"What do you want to talk about, Nico?" she rasped, voice hoarse and dripping with cum.

"Didn't you see I'm busy? My mouth is full... my tongue is busy cleaning a real man's cock. Look at it — so fucking huge... so thick... veins everywhere... head so fat and swollen... and it's still hard after flooding my throat. You could never do this. Your tiny little pee-pee never even made me wet."

She wrapped her small hand around the base and shook my cock hard — slapping the heavy, cum-slick head against her tongue with loud, wet thwack-thwack-thwack sounds.

"See this, you pathetic loser?" she taunted, voice loud and clear for the camera. "This is what a real cock looks like. Thick. Heavy. Veiny. Making me gag and cry and drool like a brainless whore. "

"You? You had a sad little worm. I never even felt it. But this... this cock owns me. It stretches my throat until I can't breathe. It makes me choke and spit and beg for more. Watch me, Nico. Watch how I worship a real man."

She dove back down — lips stretching wide as she took the head into her mouth again, sucking hard with wet, obscene slurp-slurp noises while her tongue swirled around the sensitive underside.

She pulled off with a gasp, strings of spit and cum hanging from her lips, then slapped the cock against her tongue again — harder this time — making it bounce and smear more mess across her face.

"Fuck... it's still so hard... still throbbing... still leaking cum for me... I can taste Julie's squirt mixed with his load... so salty... so thick... so much better than anything you ever gave me. I'm his cumdump now. His throat-slut. His tit-whore. And you? You're nothing. Just a sad, tiny-dicked ex I never want to see again."

She looked straight into the lens, eyes burning with cruel satisfaction, and gave my cock one last long, slow lick from balls to tip — tongue flat and sloppy, collecting every drop.

"Goodbye, Nico. Enjoy the video. Maybe jerk your little worm to it one last time before you delete it forever."

Nico's face twisted in pure fury — he was screaming something incoherent, spit flying — but he couldn't take it anymore. The screen went black.

He hung up.

-x-X-x-

The room exploded with laughter — low, dark, filthy chuckles from everyone.

Julie wiped a stray drop of cum from Samantha's chin with her thumb and licked it off.

"Okay... It's getting late. We should all get ready to leave."

I glanced at Gabriela. She had that small, hesitant look in her eyes—the one I knew meant she was thinking about her son, Diaz. She hadn't said it out loud, but I could feel it.

"Gabriela," I said gently, "go and say goodbye to your son. Don't worry—he'll be well taken care of here. You have my word."

Gabriela nodded—grateful, a little teary—and slipped out quietly.

Julie checked her phone.

"About Jayden... she contacted me about the divorce. It's finalized. Her daughter Patricia is willing to come with her. Everything's arranged."

I nodded.

A few hours later, Gabriela returned—quiet but at peace. Yuko also came back with the final discharge papers, still shy and careful around everyone.

Now everyone was ready.

Julie had already contacted Lorena, telling her to meet us at the airport. Lorena had been busy with her father's case, but now that everything was resolved, she could finally follow me without worry.

Soon, the time came.

We all met at the private airstrip.

Lorena was already there—elegant as always, but she kept her expression neutral when she saw Yuko. She knew the situation, so instead of hugging me like she wanted to, she simply smiled.

"Jack... are you okay? I heard from Ms. Julie that you were in an accident..."

I smiled back.

"I'm fine. Don't worry."

Lorena nodded. "That's good..."

I saw Yuko subconsciously hug my arm tightly as we walked toward the plane steps.

"Let me help you sit on the plane..." she said softly, still playing the caring nurse.

With that, Yuko helped me up the stairs carefully, guiding me to one of the wide recliner seats in the luxurious private jet.

The cabin was spacious—cream leather, soft lighting, a long couch along one side, and several large recliners. Everyone settled in:

Lorena took the seat across from me Sarah lounged on the couch, legs crossed Marina sat beside her, tablet already open Julie claimed the seat right next to mine Gabriela sat on my other side Jayden (with Patricia mentioned earlier) was in the row behind Samantha curled up in the seat nearest the window And Yuko... sat right beside me, still holding my arm protectively.

I noticed Yuko's gaze drifting across all the women—subtly scanning each one. Using telepathy, I slipped into her mind and heard her thoughts crystal clear:

[Jack is surrounded by all these women... I have to keep an eye on him... what if all these women are after his money... or here to take advantage of him... and I also need to warn Haruna... to keep an eye on her boyfriend...]

She was still in full protective-sister mode—completely unaware that every single woman around her was already mine, already claimed, and very happily so.

I smiled to myself.

The jet engines hummed to life.

The cabin door closed.

The long flight home began with Yuko still playing guardian angel — sitting right beside me in the spacious recliner seat of the private jet, eyes flicking protectively between every other woman and me in the cabin.

She kept one hand resting lightly on my bandaged chest the entire time, as if she could shield me from invisible threats just by touch.

Every time one of the others leaned in too close or laughed a little too freely, her fingers would tighten slightly — not possessive, but watchful, almost maternal.

She didn't notice the subtle games happening under blankets and behind polite smiles. Gabriela's hand occasionally brushed my thigh "accidentally" while she pretended to adjust the seat.

Sarah — seated across the aisle — kept crossing and uncrossing her legs slowly, the hem of her skirt riding higher each time until the lace of her panties flashed briefly when Yuko wasn't looking.

Julie — on my other side — leaned in to "check my bandages" more than once, her breath hot against my ear as she whispered filthy promises about what she'd do to me the second we landed.

I didn't make any moves. Not yet. Yuko's guilt was still too raw; pushing her too fast would shatter the fragile trust she was rebuilding.

So I let her fuss — let her feed me water, adjust pillows, whisper worried questions — while the others exchanged knowing glances and waited patiently for the right moment.

After several hours of smooth flight, the jet finally touched down on the private airstrip. A small convoy of blacked-out SUVs waited at the runway — engines idling, drivers standing at attention.

Yuko, Julie, and I were ushered into the lead car. Stella — tall, sharp-eyed, one of my most trusted drivers — was behind the wheel.

She gave me a quick nod in the rearview mirror, professional as always, but her lips twitched when she saw how closely Yuko was still clinging to my arm.

Three more cars fell in behind us — discreet security detail, tinted windows, no markings.

The drive to Yuko's villa was quiet. She kept her hand on my arm the entire way, thumb brushing small circles over the bandage as if reminding herself I was still hurt. When we pulled up to the elegant gates of the villa I'd given her and Haruna, she finally let go — reluctantly.

I turned to her in the backseat.

"Sister Yuko... you should go back inside. I'll come meet Haruna soon — once I've arranged everything."

Yuko's eyes shimmered — guilt, gratitude, something deeper.

"Aunt Julie..." she said softly, looking at Julie in the front passenger seat. "Please take care of Jack."

Then she turned to me — cheeks pink, voice shy and earnest.

"Take care of yourself... and don't tire yourself. You're still injured... the injury hasn't healed completely. Assign the tasks to your people and come back quickly. Haruna and I... we're waiting for you."

She hesitated — then leaned in and pressed a soft, quick kiss to my cheek before slipping out of the car. The gate opened; she disappeared inside.

Stella pulled away smoothly. The convoy followed.

We drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence — Julie's hand resting on my thigh, Gabriela's head on my shoulder, Samantha curled up against my other side like a contented kitten.

Jayden and Patricia were quietly arranged to stay at a discreet, high-end hotel nearby for the night. I'd made the call myself before we left the airstrip — a separate suite, full security detail, no questions asked.

Jayden wasn't officially mine yet; she'd only just kissed me, only just admitted she wanted this life. And Patricia — her teenage daughter — was innocent in all of this. No way was I bringing an unclaimed woman and her child straight into the heart of the villa on day one. Boundaries mattered, even for me.

Jayden understood. When I explained it in the car, she gave a small, grateful nod.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For thinking of Patricia first."

I squeezed her hand. "Always."

She and Patricia were dropped off at the hotel with two Shadow guards stationed discreetly nearby. Jayden promised to text when they were settled — and promised she'd be at the villa tomorrow morning, ready to talk seriously.

Now the convoy rolled through the gates of our main villa.

A crowd was waiting.

Jessica, Emily, Isabella, Paige, Olivia, Karen, Hannah, Carolina — and all the other women who called this place home — stood on the wide front steps, smiling, waving, some bouncing on their toes.

-x-X-x-

A few were visibly pregnant; others held glasses of champagne like they'd been celebrating my return since the plane touched down.

As soon as we stepped out, they swarmed — hugs, kisses, soft exclamations of relief.

But their eyes quickly shifted to the new arrivals.

Gabriela stepped out first — tall, curvaceous, dress clinging to every perfect inch. A low chorus of appreciative murmurs rippled through the group.

Jessica tilted her head, smirking. "I know why husband likes them... if I were a man, I'd want to bury my face in those tits too."

Paige laughed. "Those thighs... god, look at them. Thick and strong. Perfect for wrapping around him."

Isabella stepped forward, eyeing Gabriela with playful envy. "Sister... how old are you?"

Gabriela blinked — then smiled warmly.

They whispered for a moment — ages exchanged — and Isabella's eyes widened slightly.

"I'm calling you elder sister from now on," she declared with a grin.

Gabriela blushed — suddenly the oldest among all my women — but she laughed softly, accepting the title with grace.

The welcome turned into a chaotic, loving pile of hugs and kisses — even the pregnant Freya waddled forward, belly round and prominent.

I knelt in front of her — hands gently on her stomach.

"When's the due date?" I asked softly.

Freya rolled her eyes — but smiled.

"It can be any time now... this little one is impatient. Just like their father."

Sofia — standing nearby in her nurse scrubs — stepped forward calmly.

"Husband, don't worry. I've arranged everything at the hospital. An ambulance is parked at the back of the villa — fully staffed, ready 24/7. We're prepared."

I nodded — grateful — and stood, pulling Freya into a careful hug.

The rest of the women crowded around — hands on my arms, shoulders, kissing my cheeks, whispering how much they'd missed me.

I kissed Freya deeply on the lips — slow, possessive, tasting the faint sweetness of her Chapstick mixed with the warmth of her breath. She melted against me instantly, her pregnant belly pressing softly between us, her small hands clutching the front of my shirt like she needed to anchor herself.

When I pulled back just enough to speak, my voice came out low and rough against her mouth.

"Husband... I feel so itchy down there..." she whispered, cheeks flaming, eyes glassy with need. "I missed you so much... so fucking much... every night I touched myself thinking of you... but it's not enough... nothing's enough without your cock inside me..."

Freya's hands trembled as she untied the silk robe. The moment the belt slipped free, the fabric slid off her shoulders and pooled at her feet, leaving her completely, shamelessly naked in the middle of the living room.

Her pregnant body was pure sin.

Her massive tits had swollen even heavier during pregnancy — full, pendulous, and veined, the pale skin stretched tight over the milk-filled globes. Her dark areolas were huge and puffy, the thick nipples standing out like fat, leaking bullets, already dripping tiny white beads of colostrum that ran in slow, sticky trails down the undersides of her breasts.

But the real obscenity was lower.

Her huge, rounded child bump curved proudly outward — smooth, shiny, and taut — the skin stretched so tight you could see the faint blue veins beneath. Below that glorious belly hung her hairy pregnant pussy — thick, dark, and completely untamed.

A lush, wild bush of black curls covered her mound and lips, now matted and glistening with her heavy arousal. The hair was soaked, strands sticking together in wet clumps, framing her swollen, dark-pink outer lips that had puffed up massively from pregnancy hormones. Her inner lips protruded thick and meaty, dripping with strings of clear, sticky cunt juice that hung in long, obscene threads from her folds all the way down her inner thighs.

Her clit was engorged — a fat, throbbing pearl peeking out from the wet curls — pulsing visibly with every heartbeat.

The entire hairy cunt looked obscene: puffy, dripping, hairy, and desperate, the thick bush making her look even filthier, like a pregnant whore who hadn't shaved in months because she was too busy aching for cock.

Freya blushed furiously — one hand instinctively moving to cover her hairy mound — but I caught her wrist and pulled it away.

"Don't you dare hide that nasty pregnant cunt from me," I growled. "Look at it... so fucking hairy... so wet... that thick bush is soaked through... your lips are swollen like two fat meat curtains... and that clit... fuck, it's huge... throbbing like it needs to be sucked raw."

I slid my hand down her round belly — slow, possessive — until my fingers plunged straight into the thick, wet forest of her pussy hair. The curls were hot and slippery, matted with her juices. I dragged two thick fingers through the dense bush, parting the soaked curls until I found her dripping slit.

Freya's knees buckled instantly.

"Aaahhh—Jack—! Oh my god—your fingers in my hairy pregnant pussy—nnh—yes—rub my fat clit—feel how wet I am—my bush is drenched—my lips are swollen and puffy—fuck—finger me harder—stretch my pregnant cunt—!"

I pushed two fingers deep inside her — the hot, velvety walls sucking me in greedily. Her hairy pussy was soaking wet — slick, creamy, and ridiculously tight despite the pregnancy. I curled my fingers hard against her G-spot while my thumb rubbed furious circles on her swollen clit, mashing the sensitive nub through the wet curls.

Freya screamed — high, broken, shameless.

"FUUUCK—yes—finger-fuck my hairy cunt—rub my fat pregnant clit—oh shit—my nipples are leaking—my pussy is gushing—aaah—deeper—stretch me—make my hairy hole squirt—nnh—I'm so horny—my pregnant pussy aches for cock every second—please—bully my hairy cunt—make it squirt all over your hand—!"

Julie stepped closer, eyes dark with lust, and cupped one of Freya's leaking tits, pinching the thick nipple until more colostrum squirted out.

"I know exactly how she feels..." Julie purred, voice filthy. "When I was pregnant with Hannah, my cunt was constantly hairy and dripping... I needed to be fingered every hour, or I'd cry from how bad it ached."

"Look at Freya's bush — so thick and wild... she hasn't shaved because she's too horny to care... her pussy lips are fat and meaty... her clit is huge... she's a pregnant whore who just wants her hairy cunt used and abused..."

Gabriela laughed darkly behind Freya — reaching around to grab both of her heavy tits and squeeze them hard, milking more colostrum from the fat nipples.

"Yeah... pregnant sluts like us turn into animals. Tits leaking... pussy hairy and sloppy... clit so sensitive you can make us cum just by blowing on it... Freya's been suffering without you... look how wet her bush is... the hair is matted and dripping... her lips are swollen and hanging out... she's ready to be ruined... right here... in front of everyone..."

I pumped my fingers faster — three now — stretching Freya's hairy pregnant cunt wide open while my thumb brutalized her clit. The wet schlick-schlick-schlick of my fingers plunging through her soaked bush filled the room.

Freya's legs shook violently.

"AAHHH—JACK—! Your fingers—destroying my hairy pregnant pussy—rubbing my fat clit—oh fuck—I'm gonna squirt—gonna flood the floor—nnh—yes—harder—finger-fuck my sloppy cunt—make my hairy hole gush—aaah—I'm cumming—cumming so hard—!"

Her body seized — pregnant belly tightening — and she exploded.

A powerful, messy torrent of hot squirt erupted from her hairy cunt — spraying in forceful jets across my hand, wrist, and the floor. The thick bush of curls became completely drenched, strands of hair sticking together as her pussy gushed again and again — clear fluid mixed with creamy white arousal running down her thighs in rivers.

"FUUUCK—yes—squirt—squirt all over your hand—my hairy pregnant cunt is cumming—my clit—my hole—everything—aaah—don't stop—keep fingering me—keep sucking my tits—make me leak milk and squirt at the same time—nnh—I'm your pregnant whore—your hairy cunt slut—aaah—cumming again—!"

Julie and Gabriela kept working her leaking nipples — sucking and pinching — while I finger-fucked her through the orgasm, my hand soaked to the wrist, her thick bush squelching loudly with every thrust.

When the last violent spasm finally faded, Freya collapsed against me — trembling, panting, legs shaking uncontrollably — her thick, hairy pregnant pussy still twitching and leaking in slow, creamy dribbles onto the floor beneath us.

The dark curls were completely matted and shiny now, soaked through with her squirt and arousal, strands of hair plastered flat against her swollen outer lips. Her inner folds — fat, dark-pink, and meaty — hung open slightly, glistening, still fluttering like they were begging for more even after the orgasm.

My cock was painfully hard — throbbing wildly against the front of my pants, the head leaking a steady stream of precum that had already soaked through the fabric in a dark, wet patch. The thick cock strained so hard it hurt, veins bulging, balls tight and heavy, ready to explode again.

Freya felt it immediately.

She pressed her palm flat against the bulge — fingers curling around the outline of my cock through the pants — and squeezed once, hard.

"Husband..." she breathed, voice hoarse and desperate, eyes glassy with feral need. "I want it inside... please... I can't wait anymore... my hairy pregnant cunt is aching so fucking bad... it's been throbbing for you for months... dripping every night... please... fuck me... stretch my sloppy hole again... I need your thick cock splitting my hairy pussy wide open..."

She didn't wait for permission.

Her shaking hands yanked open my pants—button popping, zipper ripping down—and tugged them just low enough for my cock to spring free. It slapped heavily against her pregnant belly with a meaty thwack—hot, thick, veiny—leaving a long, glistening streak of precum across the taut skin just above her bush.

Freya whimpered at the sight—eyes wide, mouth watering—then lifted her hips, aligning the swollen, leaking head with her dripping entrance.

I caught her wrist gently before she could sink down.

"Will that be okay...?" I asked, voice rough but careful. "It won't hurt the child... right...?"

Freya looked down at me—cheeks flaming, eyes shining with lust and trust.

"It'll be fine..." she whispered, voice trembling with raw need. "Just... don't cum inside... your sperm might hit the baby... pull out... paint my hairy pussy... my tits... my face... just don't breed me deeper right now... please... I need you too bad to wait... my cunt is so fucking itchy... so empty... please... fuck your pregnant whore..."

Jessica and Karen stepped closer—both naked, tits heaving, eyes worried but aroused.

"Husband, be careful..." Jessica murmured, hand resting on Freya's shoulder. "Go slow... her pregnant cunt is swollen and tight... don't tear her hairy lips..."

Karen nodded, fingers brushing Freya's round belly protectively.

"Yeah... slow... let her adjust... her bush is already soaked and matted... her lips are fat and hanging out... she's ready... but be gentle..."

Freya didn't wait.

She sank down—slowly—guiding the fat head past her swollen, hairy outer lips.

The moment the head breached her entrance, Freya's eyes rolled back.

"Aaaaaaah—fuuuuck—yes—your fat cockhead... popping inside my hairy pregnant pussy—nnh—stretching my sloppy lips—oh god—so thick—my bush is scratching your cock—my clit's rubbing against you—aaah—deeper—push deeper—fill my dripping cunt—!"

I groaned—loud, guttural—as her tight, hot walls swallowed the head, then the first few inches. Her hairy pussy was insanely tight despite the pregnancy—velvety, slick, gripping me like a fist as her swollen lips dragged along my cock.

"Fuck—Freya—your pregnant cunt is choking my cock... so tight... so wet... your hairy lips hugging me so fucking hard... feel that? My head's already kissing your cervix... your bush is tickling my balls... goddamn... you're milking me already..."

I grabbed her heavy, leaking tits—squeezing hard—fingers sinking into the soft, milk-filled flesh until colostrum squirted from her thick nipples in tiny white streams that ran down her belly and mixed with her pussy juices.

"Aaaah—umm—fuck—OMG—husband—your hands... crushing my tits—milking them—my nipples... leaking all over your fingers—nnh—your cock... throbbing so wildly inside me... I can feel every vein... every pulse... it's hitting so deep... stretching my hairy hole... aaah—fuck—push—fill me—make my pregnant pussy take every fucking inch—!"

I thrust up—slow but deep—burying myself to the hilt in her hot, slick, hairy channel. Her walls clamped down like a vice—rippling, spasming—milking me desperately as her pregnant pussy stretched wide around my girth.

Freya screamed—raw, broken, shameless.

"FUUUCK—yes—balls-deep in my hairy pregnant cunt—stretching me—filling me—oh god—my bush... rubbing against your pelvis... my clit... grinding on your pubic bone—nnh—my tits... leaking all over your hands—squeeze harder—milk me—fuck me—breed my sloppy hole—aaah—don't cum inside—but fuck me hard—make my hairy pussy gush all over your cock—!"

I slammed up into her—slow, powerful thrusts—each one making her heavy tits bounce and slap together, colostrum flying in tiny arcs. Her hairy pussy squelched loudly—wet, filthy schlick-schlick-schlick—every time I bottomed out, her swollen lips dragging along my cock, her thick bush scratching my skin deliciously.

Julie stepped behind Freya—hands grabbing her ass cheeks and spreading them wide—exposing her twitching asshole.

"Look at this filthy pregnant slut..." Julie purred. "Hairy cunt stuffed full of cock... asshole winking... tits leaking... she's made for this... made to be fucked and milked and used... mmm... I bet her hairy pussy is clenching so hard right now... milking you dry... go on, husband... fuck her pregnant hole... make her scream... make her squirt again while her bush soaks your balls..."

Freya sobbed with pleasure — hips slamming down to meet every thrust.

"YES—fuck my hairy pregnant cunt—slam it—stretch it—oh god—your cock's throbbing so hard—hitting my cervix—my womb—aaah—don't cum inside—but fuck me—bully my sloppy hole—make it gush—make my fat lips drag on your cock—nnh—my clit—grinding—my tits—leaking—squeeze them—milk me—aaah—I'm cumming—cumming again—gonna squirt all over your cock—fuuuck—!"

I felt my cock would spurt cum any moment now—the pleasure of Freya's pregnant pussy was too much. Her hairy, swollen cunt gripped me like a hot, wet fist, every ridge and fold dragging along my cock with obscene, sucking friction.

The thick bush of dark curls scratched deliciously against my pelvis with every deep thrust, her fat outer lips hugging my base so tight I could feel them pulsing. Her inner walls rippled and clenched rhythmically—milking me, begging me to unload—while her engorged clit throbbed against my pubic bone like a second heartbeat.

I groaned through clenched teeth, hips stuttering as I fought the urge to slam balls-deep and flood her.

"Fuuuck... Freya... don't clench it so hard... otherwise I might cum any time... your pregnant pussy's too fucking tight... too hot... gripping my cock like it wants to drain every drop right into your womb... shit... I can feel your cervix kissing the head... one more push and I'll be painting your baby... aaah—hold on—!"

Freya didn't hold on.

She pushed down hard—impaling herself fully—my thick cockhead pressing right up against the soft, open mouth of her womb. One more thrust and it would nudge deeper, dangerously close to the child inside.

"Aaaaaah... fuck... Jack... I... I'm gonna cum... aaaaaaaaaahh...!"

Her pussy clamped down like a vice—walls spasming violently, hairy mound grinding against me as her whole body seized. Her thick nipples leaked harder, colostrum dripping down her swollen belly in white rivulets while her cunt gushed fresh slick around my cock.

I felt the pressure snap—balls tightening, cock swelling impossibly thicker inside her.

"I'm cumming—!" I growled, voice raw, hips bucking up involuntarily.

Suddenly, my cock was grabbed from the base—tight, firm fingers wrapping around the root and squeezing hard enough to stop the eruption cold.

Sofia's hand.

"Don't cum inside her...!" she snapped, voice sharp with authority, eyes flashing. "Not now. Not with the baby so close."

With that, Julie and Jessica grabbed Freya under the arms—pulling her up and off my cock in one swift motion. The wet schlorp of her pussy releasing me echoed through the room—followed immediately by a powerful gush.

Freya screamed—high and broken—as her hairy cunt squirted hard, a hot, forceful jet spraying across my lap, my thighs, the couch. Her swollen lips fluttered open and closed, thick squirt arcing out in messy bursts, drenching everything in front of her.

"Aaahhh—fuck—pulling off—my pussy—gushing—can't stop—nnh—squirting everywhere—Jack—your cock—still throbbing—wanting to cum—aaah—my hairy cunt—empty now—aching—please—!"

Stella and Margaret rushed forward—helping Julie and Jessica hold Freya upright so she didn't collapse. Freya's legs shook violently—knees buckling—her pregnant belly heaving, tits leaking, hairy pussy still twitching and dripping in thick, creamy strands.

Carolina stepped in—voice calm but firm.

"That's enough, Freya. You can have his cock as much as you want once you've given birth."

Emily nodded, hand resting protectively on her own round belly.

"Yeah, sister... once you've given birth... You can take it even deeper... let him breed you properly again... fill that hairy pussy until it overflows... but not now. Not like this."

Freya scoffed—half laugh, half frustrated moan—still trembling in their arms.

"I'm so jealous of you all..." she panted, voice wrecked. "You get to ride him whenever you want... get filled whenever you want... while I have to wait... my cunt's so itchy... so needy... look at it—still leaking... still throbbing... my bush is soaked... my lips are hanging open... aaah... I want it back inside..."

Sofia—still gripping the base of my cock tightly—felt every desperate throb, every twitch as my orgasm hovered right on the edge, denied release.

She looked up at me—eyes dark, lips curved in a small, teasing smile.

"Poor husband... cock so hard... balls so full... ready to burst... but you can't cum inside her yet..." She gave one slow, deliberate stroke from base to tip—making me hiss and buck. "Look how it jumps... how it leaks... so close... so denied... mmm... I can feel it pulsing in my hand... wanting to explode... wanting to flood a pussy... but not hers... not now..."

Freya whimpered—watching Sofia stroke me—her own pussy clenching on nothing, more squirt dribbling down her thighs.

"Please... husband... let me watch you cum... let me see it shoot... paint someone else... my tits... my face... my hairy bush... just... let me see... aaah... I'm still so horny... my pregnant cunt won't stop leaking..."

The other women circled closer—eyes hungry, hands already roaming their own bodies.

Julie licked her lips.

"Someone needs to take that load... who wants it first?"

Sofia's grip on the base of my cock was iron-tight — her small, skilled nurse's hand wrapped around the throbbing root like a cock ring, squeezing just hard enough to block the surge.

My balls were drawn up painfully tight, the pressure building to an unbearable peak, every vein along my cock pulsing angrily against her fingers.

The head was swollen, dark purple, slit gaping, and leaking thick, clear precum in steady beads that dripped down her knuckles while she held me right on the edge of explosion.

"Fuck—Sofia—let go—!" I groaned through gritted teeth, hips jerking uselessly. "I'm right there—gonna blow—your hand's choking it—aaah—shit—don't squeeze harder—!"

Freya was still trembling in Julie and Jessica's arms — her hairy pregnant pussy gaping open and twitching, thick strands of her squirt and arousal hanging from the matted black curls, swollen lips flushed and puffy, inner folds fluttering like they were still trying to pull something inside. She whimpered at the sight of Sofia holding me back.

"No—no—don't stop him!" Freya begged, voice wrecked. "I need it—need his cum—please—let him fill me—!"

Sofia's eyes flicked to Freya — then back to me — a wicked, knowing smile curling her lips.

"Not inside her..." she whispered, voice low and filthy. "But maybe... inside someone else..."

Before anyone could react, Sofia shifted — straddling my lap in one fluid motion. Her nurse scrubs were already hiked up around her hips, panties shoved to the side, her own shaved pussy glistening and ready.

She lined the swollen head of my cock up with her tight entrance — still holding the base in that merciless grip — and sank down slowly, deliberately, letting just the fat head pop past her slick lips.

"Aaah—fuck—Sofia—!" I gasped, head falling back against the pillow. "Your pussy—hot—so fucking tight—taking the head—nnh—don't—don't tease—!"

She moaned — soft, sultry — as she slid lower, inch by thick inch, her walls stretching wide around me until my entire length was buried to the hilt inside her clenching heat. Only then — when my cockhead was pressed right up against her cervix, kissing the mouth of her womb — did she finally release her grip on the base.

The moment her fingers let go, the dam broke.