The sun hung low over Suneden, casting long golden rays across the grass, glinting off bare skin and gentle movement. The laughter of distant children and clinking of camp cups mixed with soft birdsong — but Ben's mind wasn’t at peace.

His cock had been hard most of the day. Again.

Every brush of Maya’s hand on his thigh that went nowhere, every look between Leah and her — the private smiles, the touches, the secret tension — it all drove him deeper into a heat he couldn’t extinguish.

He’d been patient. Good-humored. Supportive.

But tonight, his need was radiating off him.

As he sat on the fold-out bench beside the caravan, sipping water and trying to ignore the ache in his balls, she appeared.

A woman — tall, bronze-skinned, late 30s, with short curly hair, toned curves, and no shame in her confident walk. She wore nothing but sandals and a silver toe ring, hips swaying as she passed.

She glanced at Ben, then glanced again.

Ben looked up and smiled — eager, just a little too fast.

“Hey,” he called, standing up.

She slowed, cocking an eyebrow. “Hi yourself.”

They exchanged small talk — where she was from, how long she’d been at Suneden. Ben tried to be casual, but his cock betrayed him, half-hard in the open.

The woman noticed. Her eyes flicked downward, her smile spreading.

“You look like you’ve had a long day,” she teased.

“You have no idea,” Ben chuckled, voice low, full of unspent hunger.

Inside the caravan, Maya paused mid-sip. She and Leah had been lying together, naked, tangled, talking softly about what they'd do to each other that night.

But Maya’s ears were sharp. She rose slowly, pressing a finger to Leah’s lips.

“Shh. Listen.”

Through the cracked window, they heard Ben’s voice. Laughing. Flirting. Desperate.

Maya's brows arched. “Well, well…”

Leah moved to the window, peeking through the edge of the curtain.

The woman was touching Ben’s forearm now. Laughing at his joke. And he looked — for the first time that day — hopeful.

Leah turned back, flushed. “He’s seriously trying to flirt.”

Maya’s eyes darkened. Not with jealousy. With strategy.

“We’ve been soft with him,” she said, already pacing. “A little teasing, a little touch. But he’s… adapting.”

“You think he’s close to cracking?” Leah asked, already feeling her own heat pulse at the idea.

“No,” Maya said. “I think he’s close to acting. And if he fucks her, we lose everything we’ve built.”

Leah bit her lip. “So what do we do?”

Maya's lips curled into a wicked grin.

“We escalate.”

To Be Continued…