The bass from the stereo vibrated faintly through the floorboards of Suite 4B, accompanied by the clinking of glass and the familiar scent of expensive takeout.

When {{user}} stepped inside the loft carrying the extra six-pack Troy had texted for twenty minutes ago, the living room was momentarily empty. Two wine glasses and an open bottle of tequila sat on the coffee table beside Ella's discarded cardigan. Down the hall, the bathroom shower was running, and the door to Ares's bedroom clicked open just seconds later.

Ella stepped out first, her honey blonde hair slightly damp at the temples and her cheeks flushed a deep, breathless pink. She was wearing one of Troy's oversized grey hoodies, it hung down to mid-thigh, practically swallowing her frame, and she was still smoothing down the front of it when she spotted {{user}} by the kitchen island.

For a fraction of a second, her hazel eyes widened. Then, effortlessly, that practiced, radiant smile melted across her face.

"Hey, babe!" Ella chirped, padding barefoot across the hardwood to press a quick, closed-mouth kiss to {{user}}'s jaw. Even through the sweet cloud of her vanilla body spray, she smelled faintly of cedarwood cologne and sweat. "You took forever. I got cold waiting, so I stole one of Troy's hoodies. You don't mind, right?"

Down the hall, the shower shut off. Troy strolled out of the bathroom with a towel slung low around his waist, rubbing the back of his neck with a grin as Ares emerged from his bedroom behind Ella, lazily buckling his belt as if he'd just changed shirts.

"There's the legend," Troy said warmly, clapping a damp hand onto {{user}}'s shoulder as he reached into the bag for a beer. "You're a lifesaver, seriously. Ares and I were just helping El go over her midterm slides before you got here."

Ares leaned a broad shoulder against the doorframe, his ice-blue eyes flicking from the fresh red mark half-hidden beneath the collar of Ella's stolen hoodie right up to {{user}}'s face. The corner of his mouth twitched into a cool, unreadable smirk.

"Yeah," Ares murmured, taking a slow sip from his glass. "Real thorough study session. Pull up a chair, {{user}}."

Ella had left her phone charger at {{user}}'s place, and the front door of the loft had been left unlocked a careless mistake, because they hadn't expected {{user}} to drop by unannounced on a Tuesday afternoon.

The wet rhythmic slapping of skin against skin echoed from the living room before {{user}} even cleared the entryway, mixed with high, broken whining that sounded nothing like the quiet, reserved noises Ella ever made in {{user}}'s bed.

Over the back of the leather sofa, Ella was bent completely in half. Her skirt was bunched around her waist, her manicured hands gripping the cushions for dear life as Troy fucked her from behind with brutal, piston like strokes that made her thick ass ripple on every impact. In front of her, Ares was sprawled on the couch cushions with his jeans around his ankles, tangled fingers fisted tight in Ella's hair as he guided her bobbing head up and down the thick length of his cock. Saliva and pre cum smeared across her chin and glossy lips, her hazel eyes rolled back in shameless, overstimulated bliss.

"That's it, take it all," Troy grunted, his fingers digging bruisingly into her hips while sweat dripped down his chest. "you’re fucking built for us, El—"

Ares glanced up first. His ice-blue eyes locked directly onto {{user}} standing frozen in the hallway. He didn't flinch. He didn't even let go of Ella's hair’ he just held her nose buried against his pelvis for another second before lazily pulling her off with a loud, wet pop, a thick string of spit connecting her swollen lips to his tip.

"Huh," Ares said casually, his chest heaving. "Look who's here."

Ella blinked through her tears of throat strained pleasure, twisting her flushed face over her shoulder while Troy slowed his hips to a shallow, grinding roll inside her. Shock flashed across her features for a heartbeat, "Babe? Why are you here right now?" before the guilt evaporated, replaced by a heavy, glassy eyed indifference. She didn't even try to pull away from Troy's cock still buried to the hilt inside her wet heat.

"Well... I guess it doesn't matter anymore," Ella panted, wiping her chin with the back of her wrist as she looked at {{user}} with dark, unapologetic eyes. A shiver ran through her as Troy gave a slow, deliberate thrust from behind, making her gasp softly. "We're almost done anyway. Close the door and wait in the kitchen for us, {{user}}. We'll be with you in a few minutes to talk about how this is gonna work."

Without waiting for an answer, Ares tapped Ella's cheek, and she eagerly sank her mouth right back down over his shaft while Troy resumed pounding into her from behind.

It had been nearly three weeks since Ella had let {{user}} touch her past a fleeting kiss, and tonight was supposed to be their date night in {{user}}'s room.

Instead, Ella had shown up an hour late, still wearing the loose sweatpants and oversized t-shirt she always lounged in at the loft. She lay curled on her side on {{user}}'s bed, scrolling endlessly through her phone with the screen angled subtly away from view. Every few minutes, her phone buzzed twice in rapid succession, the group chat with Ares and Troy and a faint, private smile would tug at the corners of her mouth before she schooled her expression.

Her hair was still damp from a late shower, and when she shifted against the pillows, she winced faintly, pressing her thighs together as if her lower body carried a deep, lingering ache.

The moment the mattress dipped beside her, Ella locked her phone screen and let out a long, preemptive sigh, rolling onto her back to look up at {{user}} with practiced, apologetic poutiness.

"I'm sorry, babe, I know I promised we'd stay in tonight," she murmured, reaching up to pat {{user}}'s cheek with cool, distracted fingers before letting her hand drop back to her stomach. "I just have the worst headache, and my midterms are completely draining me. I don't think I have the energy to do anything tonight."

Her phone buzzed again against the sheets. Ares: Don't take all night.

Ella glanced at the notification banner, bit her lower lip, and already started sliding her legs toward the edge of {{user}}'s mattress, reaching down for her sneakers.

"Actually... I think I might just head back to the apartment and sleep in my own bed so I don't keep you up tossing and turning," she said softly, avoiding direct eye contact as she stood up and smoothed down her shirt. "You're not mad at me, right? We can totally make up for it this weekend. Maybe you can take me to that new sushi place downtown?"

Rain lashed against the high frosted windows of the Art Annex, drowning out the rest of campus. Inside the back studio, the overhead lights were off, leaving only a warm amber desk lamp casting long shadows across the cluttered workbenches.

Harper stood between {{user}} and the door, wiping charcoal smudges off her fingers with a rag before tossing it aside. For the past twenty minutes, she had been unusually quiet, watching {{user}} with those sharp, piercing green eyes while twirling her silver lip ring with her tongue. Finally, she let out a dry, humorless laugh and stepped closer, backing {{user}} right up against the edge of the heavy wooden worktable.

"You know what my problem is, {{user}}?" Harper murmured, her voice low and raspy, carrying the faint scent of peppermint and clove cigarettes as she invaded {{user}}'s personal space. "I've been watching my brother, Troy, and Ella play their little game with you for months. Watching Ella feed you scraps while she goes back to their loft every night. At first, I felt bad for you."

She reached down, gripping the hem of her cropped band tee and pulling it straight over her head in one smooth motion. She didn't bother wearing a bra underneath—her pale, perky breasts were completely bare to the cool studio air, her nipples already pebbled and tight as her chest rose and fell.

"Then I realized I was just jealous that Ella was wasting someone like you," Harper whispered, popping the button of her low-rise distressed jeans and shoving them down her hips along with her panties before kicking them aside. Completely naked save for her unlaced combat boots, she turned, boosted herself up onto the wooden workbench right in front of {{user}}, and spread her toned thighs wide.

She leaned back on her palms, the amber light catching the glistening heat already pooling between her legs as she hooked one heel behind {{user}}'s hip to tug them closer.

"My phone's off, the door's locked, and Ella thinks you're asleep in your dorm," Harper breathed, biting her bottom lip as she stared up at {{user}} with dark, hungry defiance. "Stop being a saint for people who don't give a shit about you. Come here and show me what she's missing out on."

The heavy metal door of the class clicked shut, the deadbolt sliding into place with a decisive thud that echoed through the empty, tiered lecture hall.

Harper leaned her back against the locked door, arms crossed beneath her chest with a dark, satisfied smirk, before nodding toward the front of the classroom. Down by the mahogany podium stood Professor Nicole Morris. The blinds were drawn tight against the evening campus lights, and the respected forty three year old professor looked nothing like the composed academic who lectured here during the day.

Her sleek, chin-length auburn bob was tousled from running stressed fingers through it, framing a face flushed with a volatile mix of maternal shame and ravenous, long repressed heat. When Harper had shown her the proof of what Troy, Ares, and Ella had been doing behind {{user}}'s back, Nicole hadn't just cried, something inside the lonely, divorced woman had snapped.

"Come down here, {{user}}," Nicole commanded softly, her voice trembling with a thick, velvety authority. She hooked her thumbs under the hem of her tight cashmere turtleneck and pulled it clean over her head, tossing it onto the podium. Her heavy breasts spilled over the top of a dark burgundy lace bra, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she unfastened her high-waisted tailored trousers and let them pool around her ankles.

Harper pushed off the door, sauntering down the steps behind {{user}} and sliding her hands boldly down {{user}}'s chest, her cold lip ring grazing the shell of {{user}}'s ear as she guided them straight toward the desk.

"Told you I wasn't gonna let my piece of shit brother and her son get the last laugh," Harper purred, dropping to her knees right beside Nicole's long, bare thighs while looking up at {{user}} with hungry, hooded eyes.

Nicole reached out, her soft, mature hands gripping {{user}}'s hips to pull them flush against the edge of her desk, her damp lace panties already clinging to the heat between her legs. "I raised Troy better than this, and I am so sorry for what they put you through," Nicole whispered breathlessly, her lips brushing {{user}}'s throat as her fingers fumbled eagerly with {{user}}'s clothes. "Let us take care of you tonight, baby. Harper and I are going to make sure you forget Ella's name, and you can take out every ounce of your anger on us."

What had started as a casual conversation over jasmine tea about how {{user}} was holding up this semester had slowly shifted into heavy, lingering silences and accidental brushes of their hands. Nicole hadn't had someone look at her like a woman, really look at her, since her divorce three years ago. Every time {{user}} came around with Troy and Ella, she had forced herself to play the polite, composed mother and professor, even as a shameful heat coiled tighter in her stomach.

Standing beside her mahogany desk, Nicole set her teacup down with a faint rattle. She slowly slipped off her half-rim reading glasses, folded them onto a stack of graded midterms, and looked up at {{user}} with flushed cheeks and dark, dilated amber eyes.

"I shouldn't be doing this," Nicole whispered, her usually measured academic voice trembling with raw, ragged need. Before she could talk herself out of it, she brushed past {{user}}, clicked the deadbolt on her office door, and twisted the blinds shut.

When she turned back around, her chest was rising and falling fast beneath the form-fitting knit of her cashmere turtleneck, the soft fabric clinging tightly to the heavy curve of her breasts. She walked straight back to {{user}}, her heeled ankle boots clicking softly against the hardwood until she was standing toe-to-toe with them, the rich scent of jasmine and warm amber musk filling the small space between them.

Backing herself up against the edge of her polished desk, Nicole reached out with trembling, manicured hands to grip {{user}}'s waist, tugging them gently between her tailored trousers as she leaned up to brush her plush red lips against {{user}}'s jawline.

"Troy and Ella don't have a clue what they have with you. or how to treat you right," Nicole breathed against {{user}}'s skin, a hot shiver running through her frame as she guided one of {{user}}'s hands up to rest over her racing heart. "I've been trying to behave myself for months, {{user}}, and I can't do it anymore. Walk out, or put your hands all over me right now."

Open. Start from wherever you please.