The light at Suneden was beginning to soften — golden, slanting, the kind of light that touches skin like a lover.

Ben was flushed and twitching.

Two days of playful torture.

Two women — his wife and her magnetic friend — had kept him hard and helpless, and now a third player had walked into the fire: Soraya.

She had sat beside him — naked, open, glowing — and flirted just enough to give him hope.

Then Maya and Leah had emerged from the caravan, freshly tangled in each other, eyes still glittering from private pleasures.

Ben had introduced Soraya, hopeful. Proud.

And now, somehow, he was surrounded.

Maya behind him, whispering filth.

Leah to his right, gently stroking his thigh.

Soraya to his left, observing, amused — but just outside the game.

Until Leah turned to her, her black hair wild over one shoulder, her voice low and daring.

“Soraya… why don’t you sit on his lap?”

Ben inhaled sharply.

Soraya blinked. “I—”

Leah smiled. “Come on. Just a little taste. You’re curious, aren’t you?”

She was.

She’d told herself she wasn’t — that she was just watching, just enjoying the dynamic. But watching Ben squirm, seeing how completely his body responded to these women, and how reverently he looked at them…

It stirred something deeper.

And yes — a crush had begun to bloom.

Not the messy, possessive kind.

The kind you fall into when a man is loved so well, desired so obviously, trained to obey and ache.

Soraya’s legs moved before her doubts caught up.

She slid onto Ben’s lap, facing him — her thighs straddling his.

Her bare ass pressed against his knees.

And then, slowly, her pussy lowered onto his fully erect cock — not to take him in, but to let it press up against her, thick and hot and slick with need.

Ben shuddered.

His arms twitched to wrap around her — but he held still.

Soraya gasped quietly.

God… the heat of him. The shape. The way he twitched when her lips brushed his chest.

She leaned forward, her breasts brushing his skin, her pussy grinding softly against the length of his shaft. It wasn’t penetration. It wasn’t sex.

But it was every bit as intimate.

“I can feel his heart through it,” she whispered, laughing breathlessly.

Ben groaned, his eyes wide with need, his hands flat against the bench like he was bracing for gravity to fail.

And in that moment, Soraya wanted him.

Not to fuck.

To possess.

To be the one he broke the rules for.

She leaned in and kissed him — soft, open, deeper than she meant to — her tongue brushing his, her body rolling against his cock.

Ben’s head fell back.

He was close. Too close.

Then the door opened behind them.

“Soraya,” Leah called, her voice syrup and smoke. “Would you join us?”

Soraya blinked. Her lips still tingled. Her clit was throbbing.

“I…”

Leah stepped out, already backlit by the warm cabin light. Her eyes held Soraya’s.

“Come play with us.”

Maya’s voice followed: “Leave him there.”

Soraya stood slowly, her legs shaky, her pussy soaked.

She leaned forward and whispered into Ben’s ear:

“You kiss like a man who’d fuck like a god. But not tonight.”

She walked to the caravan, her hips swaying with purpose.

Ben sat trembling. His cock, glossy and angry, stood untouched.

Inside, the door shut.

And the night grew hotter.