It starts with banana bread.

Well—no, actually, it starts with a knock on the door. Maya and I are in the middle of bickering over who gets the last slice of lasagna when I answer it and find Levi standing there, holding a foil-wrapped loaf and wearing that sheepish little grin of his.

“It didn’t rise as much as I’d like it to, but it’s edible. Possibly even pretty good,” he says. “You guys want half?”

He’s moved in just before Christmas, to flat 2B, right next to ours. Despite being around our age, in his late twenties, Levi looks younger. There’s something boyish about him, those wide, curious eyes, the soft jawline, and that mop of messy brown curls that always look like he’s just towelled off after a shower. He has this kind of effortless prettiness to him, gentle but with some muscle underneath. He’s easy to like, always upbeat and chatty. We just sort of click straight away, and he fits right in with mine and Maya’s sense of humour.

It’s nice to have some company, seeing as we live in a pretty quiet part of town. Despite being in an apartment building, we never really see our other neighbours. Just Levi.

Maya likes him. But she likes people in general. She always has that warmth I don’t. Opening up to people and making friends always seems to come easily for her. At some point, it becomes normal. Shared grocery runs, dinners at ours, movie nights on his tiny sofa. Some weeks it feels like we all hang out together on more days than we don’t.

“Come in for a bit,” I say. “We’re just arguing about dinner. This might save us from a full-on domestic.”

Maya laughs from the kitchen. “He’s being dramatic. I said he could have it!”

Levi follows me inside, slipping off his shoes at the door without being asked. The place isn’t big, but Maya makes it feel like it is. Plants line the windowsills, books are stacked neatly along the bookshelves, and a vanilla-scented candle is burning on the coffee table. Maya takes the banana bread from him and gestures to the sofa where he plonks himself down.

She drops onto the sofa beside him with the bread. “Barkeep?”

“Coming right up,” I say, disappearing into the kitchen. I pour out three beers and carry them back to the living room, setting them down and taking a seat in the armchair opposite them both.

“I should just start paying rent here,” says Levi. “You have way better stuff in the fridge, and it’s fun to hear you fight.”

“Not a fight,” Maya says, tearing off a chunk of banana bread. “Just a very emotionally-charged conversation about pasta.”

“And whether leftovers belong to the cook or the one who didn’t fuck it up in the microwave,” I add.

“Still bitter,” she says, mouth full.

She wears her favourite oversized jumper that she’s lived in all summer, and a pair of faded black jean shorts. Her dark hair is pulled back into a loose, messy braid that hangs over one shoulder, a few strands curling gently around her neck and brushing past her collarbone.

We’ve been together for a couple of years, enough time to feel like home without ever getting boring. I still catch myself thinking how lucky I am. Maya isn’t just gorgeous, though that’s obvious, but there’s something about the way we fit together that makes everything else feel unimportant.

Levi smirks, clearly finding our dispute entertaining. I throw a cushion at him. “You’re lucky we even let you in here.”

“I just want to live vicariously through one happy, functioning couple. Instead, I get you two bickering idiots.”

“You love it,” Maya says, not even bothering to defend us. She tears off another chunk of the banana bread and pops it into her mouth. “Mmphh, this is really good, Levi.”

Levi grins, clearly proud. “Guess I might have a future in baking after all.”

Maya tears off another bite, nodding. “You’re definitely onto something. But maybe don’t quit your day job just yet.”

There’s a short pause. Maya leans into the cushions a bit more, resting her cheek against her hand. I take a slow sip of my beer and settle back. Maya is comfortable, all cozy in that oversized jumper, feet tucked beneath her on the couch, looking like she belongs right there.

“Okay, real question,” Levi says suddenly. “If the three of us were stranded on a desert island, who’s surviving the longest?”

Maya doesn’t hesitate. “Charlie’s dead in the first few hours.”

“Excuse me?” I say, folding my arms, offended. “Why?”

“You’d try to build a raft out of empty beer cans and drift off into the sunset, never to be seen again.”

Levi nods. “Drunk and sunburned. Honestly, a noble end.”

“I hate both of you,” I mutter, trying not to smile.

Maya offers me a bite of banana bread as a peace offering. She’s right, it’s good. I think I’d been starting to see Levi like this dopey little brother, always cracking stupid jokes, acting like a kid. So it throws me off when he turns out to actually be good at stuff. Like, proper grown-up stuff. I just assumed he couldn’t possibly be domestic or capable. He gives off big “needs supervision” energy. But somehow, he’s full of surprises. It’s irritating, really.

Levi raises his bottle in mock salute. “To Charlie. Brave. Foolish. Crispy.” I roll my eyes but lean over and clink both of their bottles.

We keep talking for a while after that—mostly nonsense. Hypothetical survival scenarios, dumb would-you-rathers, Levi claiming he could absolutely make fire without matches, Maya daring him to try it in our oven. Eventually the beers run dry, and Levi stands up and stretches with a groan, promising he'll head back to his place “before you guys decide to adopt me or something.”

When the door finally shuts behind him, the flat feels a little quieter.

I glance over at Maya, still curled into the corner of the couch with the last of the banana bread in her hand. She tears it in two, offering me a half before getting up and dusting the crumbs into the tinfoil. We tidy up, packing away the still unclaimed leftover lasagna wedge before heading to bed.

—

Maya leaves for yoga in the morning while I slowly get around to tidying up the flat. I put on my favourite podcast and take my time, enjoying the quiet. This is pretty standard for most Saturdays. We do our things in the morning before meeting back up around lunch, and spending the rest of the day together. We’ve talked about maybe heading out in the evening, possibly checking out the new restaurant that has opened up in town. We’ve been cooped up for a couple of days so it would be nice to get out.

By the time Maya gets back, glowing with that post-yoga energy, I’ve vacuumed, wiped surfaces, even put some laundry on. She clocks it immediately, giving me a nod of approval as she drops her keys in the bowl by the door.

“Look at you,” she says, peeling off her sweatshirt. “Domestic king.”

I give a mock bow. “Just trying to impress you.”

She laughs and kicks off her shoes without a word, and I catch the slight wince as she stretches her feet. We throw together a quick salad for lunch, then sit down at the table, casually talking between bites.

“So, how was yoga?” I ask, watching her stretch her shoulders.

“Good,” she says with a small smile. “Needed it. My body was begging for some movement after the week.”

We eat slowly, chatting about nothing important, some silly news bits, a funny thing a friend said, plans for the weekend. Once lunch is done and the dishes cleared, Maya stretches her legs out under the table and looks over at me.

“My feet are absolutely wrecked,” she says casually. “You know what that means.”

I grin back, already halfway ready to give in. “You’re shameless.”

She says nothing, but the expression on her face tells me that no isn’t an answer.

I roll my eyes but don’t move my hand away. I settle Maya’s foot in my lap, fingers tracing the familiar curves of her arch, feeling the soft warmth from her yoga session. Her toes flex and curl, just enough to cause my gaze to linger and maybe betray how much I actually like this. 

She catches my eye, that mischievous glint in hers.

“You’re hopeless when it comes to my feet, you know.”

I swallow, heat rushing through me. “I… yeah. I know.”

My fingers work gently, but steadily, kneading the soft skin beneath her toes. The scent of her lotion mixes with the faint musk of sweat. She sighs, satisfied—or maybe just amused. Time slips away, minutes melting into each other, as I stay completely absorbed in the feel of her perfect feet in my hands. Eventually, I look up and catch her eyes. Without a word, she pulls her foot away and reaches for my hand, palm up.

She leads me silently down the hall, her fingers curled around mine until we make it to the bedroom. We undress slowly despite the heat simmering beneath our skin. She slips out of her top with effortless ease, revealing her soft, bare skin, while I stumble out of my jeans. Once we are fully naked, she takes a step back, eyes trailing over me, calm and deliberate. She likes seeing me like this—exposed, waiting, hers.

I feel the flush rise to my cheeks under her gaze—embarrassed, somehow, even after all this time. Standing there naked in front of her, with that smirk tugging at her lips and her eyes drinking me in like I am hers to devour. Which, of course, I am.

She doesn’t say anything. She turns, climbs onto the bed, and stretches out across the sheets like she owns the space, head tilted slightly, hair falling loose around her shoulders. One leg bends just enough to tease. Her expression is soft but unmistakable: Come here.

I climb onto the bed, crawling over her slowly, my eyes locked on hers. Her skin is warm against mine, thighs brushing, chests close but not quite touching. For a moment, we just look at each other before our lips finally meet. Soft at first, feeling the curve of her lips, the familiar slide of her mouth against mine. She kisses me back with lazy confidence, her hands skimming my sides, fingers tracing the outline of my ribs.

Just as I start to deepen it, she pulls back slightly and lets her fingers drift up to my hair.

“Down,” she murmurs, not a question, but an order. Her palm presses gently at the back of my head, pushing me lower. And I go, willingly.

I slowly inch my way down the bed, kissing as I go—her ribs, her belly, the subtle dip of her hip. Feeling her body tighten beneath me, one hand tangled in my hair, the other gripping the sheet as I finally reach her pussy, already soaked in anticipation. I get to work, immediately noticing her breathing falter as my tongue lightly flicks at her clit. Her body slowly surrenders as I please her. Letting her lead, holding me where she wants me as I let her use me the way she wants. It thrills me how shameless she is about it, how unbothered by the control she takes.

Things in the bedroom have just… settled into place between us. I’ve never thought much about being dominant or submissive before Maya, but with her, it isn’t something we have to talk through or plan. It just happens. She is always confident, especially when it comes to sex. She knows exactly what she wants and has no hesitation in asking for it or taking it. I like that. Giving in to her, being told what to do. It became a rhythm between us: her pushing, teasing, testing how far I’ll go, and me, more than willing to follow her lead. The foot thing is just one of those moments. I didn’t know I had a thing for feet until Maya told me I did. And, honestly, she was right.

For her, it’s all a game. She has this endless creativity when it comes to pushing me, testing how far she can take that control. I don’t have the same imagination. On my own, I’d probably be painfully vanilla. But somehow, whatever she tries, I end up loving. It’s like she knows exactly what I want in bed, even before I do.

I can feel my cock getting hard as I get comfortable in the space between her thighs. My own pleasure is an afterthought as I focus on making her feel good. I can still feel her guiding hand on the back of my head, her grip tightening when I hit the right spots. Time blurs. The only constants are the heat between us, the rhythm of breath, the way her thighs tighten and her back arches, as I can feel her getting close.

She was always the one in control. But right then, she'd handed me a task and I wasn't about to let her catch her breath until I got what I came for. What I know she needs. I grip her waist and pull her in, burying myself deeper. Her thighs start to tense around me, her body trembling in quiet waves until finally, a low, broken moan slips out as she comes hard.

My body relaxes, satisfied in the stillness that follows when she finally collapses back into the pillows with a quiet, satisfied laugh.

I crawl back up beside her, my heart thudding, as she turns to face me.

“Good boy,” she murmurs.

I flush, but don’t look away. Her leg slides over mine, and her foot comes to rest just over my thigh.

She grins lazily, shifting slightly so her heel presses down against my hard cock causing me to gasp. “Now,” she says, dragging her foot slowly across my length, “I think it’s only fair I return the favour.”

I swallow, the friction of her sole against me already enough to make my breath hitch. I don’t say anything. Maya knows exactly what that look means. I’ve always been pretty sensitive, it doesn’t take much to make me cum, never mind when she uses her feet.

Her toes curl, teasing, trailing lower, playful but firm. “God, you’re easy,” she murmurs, more amused than anything as precum begins to form at the tip of my cock. I open my mouth to protest, to push back, but every nerve ending is already hers. The words catch in my throat. 

She props herself up on one elbow, her foot tracing a deliberate path, coaxing reactions out of me with ease, watching every shift in my face.

I let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut for a second. When I open my eyes again, she is watching me—head tilted, one foot still expertly tormenting me, the other tucked under her. 

“You should see yourself,” she says. “Red-faced and twitching like it’s your first time. And all because I touched you with my foot. My foot, Charlie. That’s all it takes.”

I groan, half-laughing through the humiliation, half-losing my mind. She really knows how to press all my buttons. “You’re evil.”

She grins. “I’m attentive.” Not breaking eye contact. “You’re already close, aren’t you?”

All I can manage is a breathless nod. She applies more pressure with her foot, smiling cruelly. 

“I want you to cum all over my pretty feet,” she continues, repositioning herself to bring her other foot up against my cock, trapping it between them. Her grip is inescapable now. Any hopes I have of holding back are gone as she begins to rhythmically slide them up and down, her toes effortlessly bringing me to the edge.

She looks amused by my struggle, seeing just how helpless I am. How little control I really have. I can barely meet her eyes, my whole body taut with the effort of holding back. The panic in my chest makes it worse, and she can see it. She loves seeing it.

My hips buck beneath her touch as I feel myself lose control, letting out a low moan as I climax. I watch as my cock erupts, thick jets of cum covering her feet, dripping between her toes and down onto the bedsheet as I grasp for breath. “Fuck!”

I lie back, chest rising and falling, trying to get my breath under control. The rush still tingles through my limbs, half bliss, half embarrassment. Maya sits beside me, calm as ever, smoothing her hair back like nothing has just happened.

She glances down at her foot, then at me, smirking. “You really have issues,” she says, but her voice is soft and full of love. I open my mouth to reply, some weak defence, maybe. But all that comes out is a laugh. She leans in and kisses me, her hand curling lightly around the side of my face like I am hers. Because I am. We lie there for a while; it feels like hours, but must have only been a couple of minutes.

“I need a shower,” she eventually murmurs, slipping out of the bed.

I watch her cross the room, confident and completely at ease in her body. She disappears into the en suite and leaves the door ajar as steam begins to billow around the frame. I stay put for a little while longer, just trying to catch my breath and come back down from the high. Eventually, I drag myself up and pull on some clean clothes, limbs heavy and brain still half-fogged.

Maya emerges from the bathroom with a towel wrapped loosely around her, drying her hair with another. Her skin is still pink from the heat, and she looks relaxed, freshly reset.

“Oh,” she says, glancing at her phone. “Forgot to tell you, I bumped into Levi earlier. On the way back from yoga.”

I look up. “Yeah?”

“He was heading out to get groceries. Said he’s cooking tonight and asked if we wanted to come round.”

I smirk. “We’ve survived his cooking before.”

“Exactly,” she says, stepping into her underwear and rifling through the drawer for jeans. “I told him I’d check with you, I know we were thinking of going out tonight.”

I nod, already reaching for my shoes. “Yeah, sounds good. We can do that restaurant next weekend instead.”

“Cool. I’ll let him know.”

The rest of the afternoon slips by. Maya and I kick back on the sofa, half-watching whilst scrolling on our phones. Some show neither of us is really paying attention to. She stretches out, her head resting on my shoulder, and I absently run my fingers through her hair. Before we know it, we are starting to get hungry, and it is time to head over.

Levi opens the door just as we raise our hands to knock, like he’s been waiting behind it. He grins. “Right on time.”

He looks good. Relaxed, barefoot, in a loose black T-shirt and faded grey jeans that sit low on his hips. His hair is still a bit damp, like he’s just stepped out of the shower, and he smells faintly of something smoky and warm. Behind him, his flat is lit in this soft, cosy glow from a few mismatched lamps, music playing quietly from a speaker in the corner. The whole place smells like garlic, herbs, and roasted veg.

“Come in, come in,” he says, stepping back with a sweeping gesture.

Maya brushes past him with a smile. “Wow, it actually smells good in here.”

I step inside, taking in the familiar layout. Levi’s place is smaller than ours, a one-bed mirror of our own flat. A couple of chairs circle a table, and his small sofa hugs the far wall, already buried under a mess of throw blankets. It makes me wonder how this goofy kid, who we all half-jokingly call the “immature one,” manages to have his shit together better than I do sometimes. How is he so effortlessly good at this?

He hands us both a cool glass of lemonade and gestures for us to sit. We drop into the cushions, Maya curling her legs up beside her, me with one arm over the back of the couch behind her. Levi grabs the armchair, pulling it close enough to talk without needing to raise his voice.

“So,” he says, taking a long sip, “I bumped into Chloe earlier today.”

Maya raises her eyebrows. “The Chloe?”

Levi nods, not quite sheepish. “Yep. Didn’t go well. We’re officially on the ‘polite head nod in public’ stage.”

“Oof,” I say. “Brutal.”

He shrugs. “Eh. Wasn’t anything serious. Three dates, a few nice evenings, some extremely average Thai food. I think she’s back with her ex or her cat or something.”

Maya takes a gulp of lemonade, “I’m sorry, though. Even if it wasn’t serious, that still kinda sucks.”

He smiles at her, appreciative. “Thanks. Honestly, she was cool, but I think we both knew it wasn’t really clicking. Better to let it fizzle than force it.”

Maya tilts her head. “You okay, though?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m doing fine.” He pauses, then adds with a grin, “She said I seem ‘emotionally elusive.’ Whatever that means.”

Maya gives him a look. “You really do give off mysterious-but-won’t-text-back energy.”

Levi leans back in his chair. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

There is a small pause. Maya takes another sip, then says, “You’ll meet someone, you’ve got more going for you than you think. Hidden under all that sarcasm.”

“Or,” he says, deadpan, “I’ll remain a lovable recluse and live vicariously through you two. 

You’re in the ‘cosy domestic bliss’ stage. Fridge full of oat milk, matching socks, shared Google calendars.”

“Excuse you,” I say. “Our socks do not match.”

“They do,” Maya says, smirking into her drink. “I sort them.”

“Eurgh, you guys make me sick.” Levi smirks before wandering off toward the kitchen to check on the food.

Maya laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Well, somebody’s jealous.”

From the kitchen, Levi calls back, “Not a chance. Now get over here before I eat everything myself.”

We move to the table, where he is already serving dinner. He brings out a steaming dish, something tomatoey and rich-smelling with scattered herbs on top.

It’s good. Frustratingly good. Levi can actually cook. The meal turns into a mild roast session, mostly aimed at Levi. He takes the jabs with his usual good humour, firing back between mouthfuls. Mayas in top form, cracking jokes that have him groaning and laughing. Their banter has this light, almost flirty edge. I mostly stay out of the crossfire, content to eat and enjoy the show.

We linger at the table, letting the food settle and the conversation drift. Eventually, Levi stands and starts collecting plates, waving off our attempts to help. “Sit, sit. My kitchen, my mess.”

Naturally, we ignore him. Maya grabs the empty glasses, and I start stacking dishes, following him to the sink despite his half-hearted protests.

Levi sighs dramatically. “You people come into my home, compliment my food, and then help clean up. It’s sickening.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, flicking water at him as I pass.

Once the worst of the mess is dealt with, Levi finally manages to wrestle us out of his tiny kitchen and we retreat to the living room. Maya and I curl up on the sofa, tucking into the corner the way we always do, her legs thrown casually over mine. Levi drops into the armchair opposite, sitting sideways with one leg slung over the armrest, a second glass of lemonade in hand. He takes a sip of his drink, then leans forward as if remembering something and reaches under the coffee table.

“Okay, don’t judge me,” he says, pulling out a small red box.

“Oh no,” Maya says, eyeing it. “What now?”

“It’s a game,” he says innocently. “One I actually didn’t steal from a pub.”

I give him a look. “That’s not reassuring.”

Levi flips over a card and peers at it. “Okay, here’s one: ‘What’s something you’ve never told anyone?’” He gives a nervous laugh. “Okay. Once, I accidentally sent a very not-safe-for-work message to a work group chat instead of the person it was meant for. No, I’m not elaborating. Heads up though, some of these do get a little spicy. You don’t have to spill your deepest, darkest secrets... unless you want to.” He chuckles.

I stretch my legs out, intrigued despite myself. “Alright. Deal us in. But if this leads to therapy, I’m blaming you.”

Levi gives the cards a lazy shuffle, then sets the stack on the coffee table. “Alright,” he says, stretching out his legs. “Maya, do you want to kick things off?”

She picks up the card and reads, “What’s something small that brings you joy?”

She snorts, barely able to keep a straight face. “Charlie’s penis.”

Levi immediately doubles over laughing. “Oh no. Poor Maya. I just assumed he had, like, a huge dick — since, you know, he’s got nothing else to offer.”

Maya’s cracking up now, nodding along. “Right? That was the hope! But no. Just a ‘fun-size’ situation. Like Halloween candy, if you’re into disappointment.”

I shake my head, grinning despite myself. My cock was pretty small but it had never been an issue for Maya so I’d never really felt insecure about it. “Okay, first of all: rude. Second of all: it’s not that small.”

Maya raises an eyebrow, smug. “Mmhmm. Not that small.”

They both lose it again. I groan and bury my face in a cushion. “I hate this game.”

Maya grins as the laughter settles. “I’m kidding, babe. Mostly.” She shoots him a look that says you know I love you, even if the tease had teeth. “Alright, real answer? Drinking tea from my favourite mug. Boring, I know. I just always feel so cosy and happy. Like, everything could be falling apart, but if I’ve got my mug and the right tea? Everything’s okay.”

I smile, still vaguely recovering from the roasting. She wasn’t wrong—I’d used that mug once, early on in the relationship, totally unaware of its sacred status. The look she gave me that day? I’ve never made that mistake again.

I clear my throat before lifting the next card. “Have you ever imagined kissing someone in this room?” I grin and lean back, putting on my best shy voice. “Oh man, this is a tough one. I mean, I don’t usually admit this, but… yeah. I’ve definitely thought about kissing someone here.”

Maya raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Oh really? And who might that be?”

Without missing a beat, I dramatically turn to Levi and put on a mock-serious tone. “Levi. It’s you. I’ve been secretly crushing on you this whole time.”

Levi blinks, startled for a moment, then bursts out laughing. “Whoa, didn’t see that coming! Charlie… I feel the same way!” 

Before I can even react, he leans in slowly, close enough to feel his breath. Everything freezes but just when our lips are about to meet, I pull back with a nervous laugh. “Eww, is this what dating you’s like? Total slobber-fest. I’m gonna need a mop after that.”

Levi sticks out his tongue, mock offended. “Hey, it’s called passion. You should count yourself lucky!”

I roll my eyes. Maya snorts, nudging us both. “Oh my god you guys, just fuck already!”

We all laugh, the room loosening up as Levi shakes his head with a grin. He flips the card and raises an eyebrow. “Would you ever consider having sex with a friend?” 

He lets out a short laugh. “I mean… sure. In theory. Not like it’s come up. I think all of my friends are in relationships, so odds of that happening are kinda slim.”

Maya raises an eyebrow, smirking. “You’ve heard of threesomes, right?”

I grin. “Levi can barely land one person, let alone two at the same time.”

Levi throws his cushion at me. “Fuck you! I could totally have a threesome. You don’t know me!”

Maya raises her eyebrow. “You two rehearsed this dynamic or is it just raw chemistry?”

Levi gives her a look. “Jealous?” 

She rolls her eyes. She turns to him. “So would you?”

He blinks. “Would I what?”

“Threesome.”

Levi smirks, eyes flicking between Maya and me. “Would I ever have a threesome? Depends… are you two asking?”

Maya throws her head back, eyes wide as if struck by divine revelation. Then, locking onto Levi, she purrs, “Oh, Levi, finally! We thought you’d never ask. You’re the sex god we’ve been desperately waiting for. Finally, we can live out our—“

Levi cuts her off with a sly smirk. “You joke about all that, but I can’t be responsible when you both can’t get enough of me.”

Now I roll my eyes. “Oh please, we barely tolerate you as it is.”

He shrugs, finishing his lemonade. “You guys have no idea what you’re missing.”

The next few cards go by in a lazy blur. The questions are gentle, less spicy: what’s your comfort film, your weirdest fear, the best night of your life?

Eventually, Maya stretches and lets out a yawn. “Alright, you absolute menaces. It’s getting late.”

Levi rises from his seat, ruffling his hair. “This was fun,” he says. “You guys are welcome back anytime,” He walks to the door unlocking it and holding it open. “Especially when you compliment my cooking.”

Maya leans in and hugs him, a quick squeeze. “That’d be nice, thanks. Night, neighbour.”

I step forward, offering a hug, half-pat on the shoulder. “Night, Levi. Thanks again.”

We step out into the quiet corridor and head back into our flat. The door clicks shut behind us, and suddenly everything feels still and quiet.

I run a hand through my hair as I step toward the bedroom. “Well,” I start, “that was—”

Maya grabs me by the front of my shirt and kisses me. 

No warning. No buildup. Just heat.

She backs me into the wall, her hands already under my clothes, her body pressed tight against mine like she’s been waiting hours for the chance. Maybe she has. Maybe neither of us realised.

By the time we break apart, I’m breathing hard.

Her eyes catch mine, dark and bright, with that wildness I know and love. She grabs my wrist and hauls me toward the bedroom. “Take your shirt off.”

No questions. No hesitation. I reach up, pull the collar over my head, and toss the shirt aside.

“Get on the bed. On your back.”

My heart pounds as I do what she says.

She crawls on top of me, hands pushing me flat against the mattress.

“I’m not here to play. I want you—right now.”

“I—“

“Don’t talk.”

My hands move on instinct, sliding under her shirt, fingers searching until they cup her soft breasts. She arches into my touch, breath hitching, and I swallow hard, caught in the rush of it all.

She’s straddling me now, fully clothed still, but riding me slowly in a cowgirl position. Rocking her hips back and forth, grinding herself slow and deliberately against my cock. 

Every movement sends shivers coursing through my body. I don’t know where this sudden energy has come from but it’s driving me crazy. I’m already hard, straining against my pants as she grinds against me.

I can’t believe just how insanely hot she is. I stifle a moan as I feel my cock leaking precum. If she carried on like this there’s no way I was going to last much longer.

I slide my hands up her thighs, pressing firm, trying to slow her down. My breath catches, and I open my mouth to say something—

“Maya- I…”

But she doesn’t wait for me to finish. 

“No,” she whispers.

Her hands grip my wrists, pinning them as she takes complete control. Her eyes lock onto mine, dark and unwavering. “I want you inside me,” she says, voice sharp and commanding.

I try to breathe through it, to hold on just a little longer, but I can feel it breaking inside me. One more second, one more roll of her hips… 

Time freezes for a moment as my body tenses, muscles tensing as I try to hold it back. I hold my breath for a second, thinking maybe I’ve held on.

But then I feel it. I cum hard with a gasp, hips jerking beneath her, unable to stop it.

“Shit—Maya, I’m—”

Too late.

I try to catch my breath as I cum in my pants. She hadn’t even touched me properly, and I still couldn’t hold it.

I stare up at her, breathless, humiliated.

“Fuck… I’m so sorry,” I mumble, voice hoarse. “I tried—I really did, I just—”

My cheeks burn. I can’t meet her eyes. I feel pathetic. Weak.

For a long moment, she just looks at me. Her breath is steady, her body still straddling mine, but I can see the tension in her. I open my mouth to apologise again, but she raises a hand and shuts me up with a small shake of her head.

Her eyes soften, just a little. “Charlie. Relax.”

I try, but the heat in my face says otherwise.

She leans in and kisses me. “It’s okay,” she murmurs against my mouth. “I mean it. You don’t need to feel bad.”

She pulls back slightly, just enough for me to see the fire still smouldering behind her eyes.

Her fingers trail down my chest, firm and certain. “But I can’t go to bed like this. I need you to make me cum”

She leaned over to the nightstand, sliding open the top drawer. Her fingers wrapped around something inside, and when she pulled it out, I saw the sleek, black shape of her vibrator. Without a word, she turned back to me and placed it in my hand.

It’s not the first time we’ve used it in a situation like this, but every time it stirs that ache inside me. The quiet voice whispering that I’m not enough on my own. That this thing can give her something I can’t.

But I’m the one holding it. I’m the one who gets to use it. And I want to watch her fall apart.

She strips slowly, lifting her shirt over her head as her skin catching the light in all the right ways. Unbuttoning her jeans, peeling them down with a little sway of her hips followed by her underwear, dragged low and kicked aside with casual ease. 

She looks unreal. Effortless. Way out of my league. I swallow hard, trying to stay cool, but the way she moves… I can’t help thinking I’ll never really be enough for her. Not the way she really deserves.

She lies back, legs already parting, eyes locked on mine.

I settle between her thighs, the vibrator warm in my hand, my fingers trembling slightly as I press the button to turn it on. The powerful motor hums to life, buzzing sharply through my palm and sending a surprising jolt up my arm. I can only imagine how intense this is about to feel for her.

I position myself, getting comfy as I push the tip against her pussy. Her breath catches the moment I touch her, the sharp intake sending a jolt straight through me. She presses her hips up, grinding against it with desperate hunger, silently begging for more. 

Her sex drive had always been high, but right now it felt like nothing else mattered. I start slow, tracing gentle circles, watching her eyes flutter shut. Soft moans start to slip from her lips, growing louder and more urgent as the pleasure builds, her breath hitching and words falling into little gasps.

“This feels so good,” she gasps, her voice thick and unsteady. “I—fuck—I’m so close…”

Her hips twitch under my touch. She’s panting now, barely able to string a sentence together.

“I just—I wish it was—” Her breath hitches again. “God, I just want the real thing. I want—” She swallows hard, trembling. “It’s not the same.”

Her words hang in the air. Not cruel, just honest. Frustrated. Aching. Like some part of her is trying to be grateful, but can’t lie to herself in the moment.

Something sharp twists in my chest. My cock’s completely spent, soft and useless from my recent accident, but the last thing I want is to let her down. 

My stomach turns. I hate how empty I feel in that moment—useless, even. I want to give her everything. But instead—

“Maybe I should go knock on Levi’s door,” I blurt, voice way too light. “See if he’s still up for that threesome.”

It’s out before I even register the words. A dumb joke. The worst timing. My heart stutters.

She doesn’t say a word. Just freezes, eyes locked on mine, lips parted like she’s about to speak. I brace myself, waiting for a snarky comeback, a sympathetic laugh, anything to cut the silence.

But instead, her body jolts as she cums, hard and fast. An intense, overwhelming wave that shakes her whole body. A moan rips from her throat as she trembles violently, her back arching off the bed, nails digging into the sheets, breath ragged and uneven. 

I’m frozen, heart hammering, caught between shock and arousal, helpless beneath her.

As the last tremors roll through her, her body slowly eases down, her breath still catching in little aftershocks. She collapses onto her side beside me, one arm draped over her eyes.

For a moment, neither of us says anything.

She’s flushed, cheeks glowing, chest still rising and falling as she catches her breath. “That wasn’t— I didn’t… It wasn’t what you said,” she adds quickly, voice a little hoarse.

I raise an eyebrow, not saying anything. Just watching her squirm.

Her eyes dart away like she’s looking for an escape, pulling the sheets halfway up her chest as if that’ll save her the embarrassment. 

I can’t help the grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Sure,” I say, dragging the word out just enough to make her groan and cover her face with one hand.

“Don’t,” she mutters, but I catch the flicker of a smile beneath her fingers.

I let the silence stretch a few seconds longer, just enough to make her stew. Then I lean back on my elbows, mouth twitching into a grin. “So… Levi, huh?”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide. “Oh my god—Charlie! Seriously, shut up!”

I just look at her. No grin now—just watching.

She falters. Her mouth opens like she wants to say something, then shuts again. Her cheeks are flushed deeper now, and not from the orgasm.

She bites her lip, eyes darting away like she’s trying to hide from her own thoughts. 

“I—I was already there, okay?! Like, I was this close—I swear! It wasn’t your stupid joke, or anything you said... it was me. It definitely wasn’t…” She gulps like she can’t even say his name. “It wasn’t Levi!”

I reach for her hand trying to hide my grin. “I know.”

A slow, shit-eating grin tugs at the corner of my mouth, but I keep it carefully hidden. She’s trying way too hard to deny this.

We just lie there like that. Eventually we get up, brushing our teeth and changing into pyjamas.

Lying together beneath the covers, my thoughts briefly drift back to Maya’s face. The way her eyes widened in shock before rolling back when I mentioned Levi’s name, the shudder of pleasure that coursed through her. But soon, exhaustion takes hold, and whatever feelings stirred fade away. Before long, I’m fast asleep.

— 

A few days go by. Nothing more said about that night. Levi’s name doesn’t come up either, not deliberately, but noticeably. Like we’re both walking around a spill we haven’t cleaned up yet. It’s Tuesday evening, and we’re having dinner together like usual. Maya is picking at her food between sips of sparkling water.

Maya’s in the middle of a rant about her boss, something about yet another meeting that could’ve been an email. 

She’s gearing up for round two, another rant about the office fridge politics, when a knock at the door cuts her off.

I glance at Maya, who pauses mid-sentence, eyes flicking toward the hallway.

“I’ll get it,” I say, drying my hands on a tea towel as I stand and head to the door. I assume it’s Levi. If we go more than a couple of days without speaking, he usually finds an excuse to check in. But when I open it, it’s just a delivery driver holding a small box.

“Delivery for Levi, flat 2B,” he says, glancing at the label. “No answer next door. You mind taking it?”

I nod. “Yeah, no problem.” After signing for it and thanking the driver, I tuck the box under my arm and head back into the kitchen.

I set the box down on the counter when I come back in.

Maya spots it and leans over. “What’s that?”

I grin, crossing my arms. “Just a delivery for your secret crush.”

Maya blinks, fork frozen mid-air. “Wait, what? My secr—” Her eyes narrow, and she shoots me a fierce glare. “Seriously, don’t start with that again. I don’t have a thing for him, okay?”

I still say nothing, my grin growing wider.

She rolls her eyes but can’t hide the flush creeping up her neck. “Come on, are you jealous or something?”

I smirk, stepping a little closer. “Maybe I should be after the—”

Before I can react, she’s pressed against me, her body heat radiating through our clothes. Her voice drops, low and commanding. “You want to play that game? Fine.”

Her hand slips down my waistband, fingers hooking under the edge as she pulls it down just enough to free me. Her palm closes around my cock, firm and insistent as she begins stroking. Not a gentle build up to get me in the mood, but a fast motion that quickly has me both hard and panting for breath.

She leans in close, voice sharp and fierce, breath hot against my ear. “What do you want Charlie? What do you want me to say? That I fucking came thinking about Levi? That I want to fuck him? Huh? Is that what you want?”

I freeze, caught completely off guard. The words slam into me like a punch, sharp and brutal.

Heat surges through me, swallowing any sensible thought. My breath catches, cheeks burning hot, and I realise my cock is painfully hard against her hand. Why the hell am I so turned on by this? What’s wrong with me?

She stares at me, wide-eyed and silent for a beat, then bursts out laughing. “Okay, what the hell, Charlie? Are you serious? You’re… you’re actually turned on by that?”

“N-no I… I..” I swallow hard, heat pooling deep in my gut. She watches me like a hawk, waiting. Oh god, I’m so close already, and she knows it. There’s no hiding it.

“Charlie, I’m talking about fucking Levi. I thought I was messing with you! Are you actually…?” She stares at me like I’m crazy. “This is insane. I don’t even know what to do with this. Should I be mad? Or like—flattered? What the hell, Charlie?”

My face burns hotter. “It just… it surprised me, that’s all. You grabbed me, and I—”

She laughs again. “Charlie,” she says, lowering her voice now like she’s trying to get a better look at me. “You’re hard as fuck right now.”

She stares around me as if assessing what her next move is.

“Okay then…” she says lightly, almost distracted, drawing back slightly, her tone soft but loaded with something darker. Her hand slips away from my cock, deliberately slow, like she wants me to feel its absence.

She watches me closely, scanning my face for the tiniest twitch.

“What if I told you,” she muses, voice light as air, “exactly how he’d fuck me?” Her lips part slightly as if the thought just happened to cross her mind. “Nice and slow. Taking his time… making me beg for it.”

Then, suddenly—sweetness. She blinks up at me, all faux concern and mock surprise. “Oh no… I shouldn’t be saying that, should I? Not in front of my boyfriend.”

Her expression is pure mockery dressed up in sweetness—eyes all soft and sweet like she’s confused why I’ve gone so still, so quiet, so hard.

I struggle to keep my composure, words caught in my throat as my cock throbs in front of her, begging for attention and release.

She giggles, shaking her head like she’s talking herself through it. “No, no—that can’t be it. You’re not turned on by me talking about Levi. That would make you a…  No, no, my boyfriend's not like that.” She leans in, voice soft but teasing. “Babe, can you explain this then?” Her eyes sparkle as she nudges my rock hard cock. “Because you’re really hard… and you’re blushing so much. What is it, baby? I’m so confused.”

My mouth opens, but I’ve got nothing.

She folds her arms, defensive now. “Jesus, Charlie, you look like you’re about to cum.”

“No I… I… your hand just felt really good… I…,” I say too fast, face burning. “It’s not… it’s not Levi… it’s not—”

“No,” she says, stepping closer again, watching me like she’s trying to figure something out. “You don’t get to do that. Not after all your teasing and prodding. Not after your little crush joke. You lit the match, and now you’re pissed the fire’s spreading?”

I shiver. My head's all over the place.

She steps in close again, slow and deliberate.

“I think,” she says, voice quieter now, silkier, “you liked what I said. Even if you don’t understand why. Even if it made you feel… small.” Her fingers trace over my still hard cock. “That’s new for you, isn’t it?”

Her hand comes away coated in my precum as she looks at me for a second as if deciding what to do. She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the bedroom without a word. Once inside, she lowers herself onto the edge of the bed, stretching her legs out slowly in front of her. 

She leans back, stretching her legs out slowly and deliberately, then lifts her foot right to my face. Her eyes gleam with dark amusement as she orders, “Kiss it. Lick it. Show me you’re mine, and don’t even think about stopping until I tell you.”

I sink to my knees before I’ve even thought about it.

Her foot grazes my cheek, soft but intentional as she lets it rest there. She doesn’t say anything at first, just watches me with quiet amusement. 

I close my eyes, let myself take some deep breaths to calm myself. It’s a relief, in a way, something to focus on that gives my overly sensitive cock a break. I close my eyes, breathing steady as I lean in. The warmth of her skin presses softly against my lips. I start at her heel, kissing slowly. Her foot feels perfect in my hands—soft, warm, like that’s where it belongs. I trace my tongue along the arch, savouring every inch, tasting its slight saltiness before flicking gently over her toes. My fingers curl lightly around her ankle, trembling just a little as I try not to get myself too worked up.

Then her voice slices through the quiet, low and deliberate.

“Charlie,” she says, not unkindly, but with a measured sharpness, “do you think you can fuck me right now?”

I hesitate. She knows the answer. I know the answer. My breath hitches.

“I—” My voice cracks, barely more than a whisper. I clear my throat, swallowing the heat creeping up my neck. “I don’t think I’ll last.” The truth slips out before I can stop it. I’m so close, I don’t think I could even get inside her without losing it right now.

Maya exhales like she’s disappointed, but not surprised. She hums thoughtfully, running her foot across my face as I continue to plant gentle kisses across her sole. “No,” she says, almost to herself. “I didn’t think you’d be up to it.”

Her fingers are already drifting lazily toward the drawer, and when she opens it, I know exactly what she’s reaching for.

She tilts her head, voice light. “So, what do you think I should do, then?” Her tone is deceptively sweet, but her eyes are locked on mine, daring me to answer. “Since you can’t even last two minutes without spurting all over the place like some desperate virgin…”

I open my mouth again, then shut it. My throat feels tight.

Maya’s eyes glitter, sharp and wicked. “Well… since you can’t fuck me…” she says, tapping the toy against her palm like it’s a secret weapon, “I guess Levi’s going to have to do the job for you.”

“Maya—“

Her foot presses firmly against my lips, cutting me off before I can say a word.

“When I move my foot,” she commands, “you’ll continue with whatever it was that you were going to say. Tell me to stop. Say how much you hate this. How this was clearly some sort of misunderstanding. That I’ve got you all wrong..” She tilts her head, voice silky but hard. “And I’ll stop. I’ll put the vibrator away and we can forget about this.”

She moves her foot, allowing me my chance to speak. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. 

Her smile deepens, amused and a little cruel. “Oh, wow. Not a word? So you’re just going to watch?” She slides her shorts and panties down her legs, and moves the vibrator down her body in a deliberately slow motion. Watching me, daring me to speak up and end this. She continues until it’s between her legs. 

Her voice sharpens, just a little. “Because if you don’t want this—if this is some sick joke or some line we’re not supposed to cross, you need to say something now.” 

Still, I say nothing.

She leans back slightly, giving me a full view as the toy effortlessly glides into her soaked pussy. She pauses for a moment, enjoying every second of the anticipation. Her smile lingers as she settles back, and for a moment, everything is quiet. The sound of my breathing feels thunderous in my ears. I don’t know where to look, what to say. I should have stopped this. Maybe I still can. But my mouth won’t open, and my hands won’t move. But she doesn’t turn it on. Not yet.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Charlie,” she says. “I’m going to enjoy this. I might enjoy it too much. And you? You’ll sit there and watch. Because that’s what you’re choosing.”

There’s a final pause as my last chance to stop this escapes me. She closes her eyes. The soft buzz fills the room, followed by a gentle, satisfied moan.

“Ohhh… Levi…”

My stomach tightens. I feel like I’ve stepped off a ledge, weightless and terrified and impossibly turned on. I don’t understand why this is doing to me what it’s doing. It shouldn’t. It really, really shouldn’t.

Maya’s eyes don’t leave mine now. There’s no more teasing in her voice, just calm certainty, like this was always going to happen. It’s too much, I break her gaze and look down at the bed.

“You didn’t stop me,” she says. “So now you don’t get to pretend this isn’t happening.” She lifts her foot and tilts my head back towards her.

My breath catches, but I don’t look away. I can’t. She’s sprawled out now, one hand between her legs, gripping the vibrator. There’s a flush in her cheeks, and her breathing has changed. She’s not just teasing anymore. She’s into this—really into it.

I’m sitting on the bed, watching as my girlfriend gets herself off, thinking about someone else. I’m still achingly hard, but I don’t touch myself, both out of shame and because I know the second I do, it might all be over.

She presses her foot hard against my lips. Watching isn’t enough. She wants to be worshipped.

I’m licking her, tasting the salt and heat of her skin, all whilst knowing she’s getting off thinking about Levi. That thought should shame me, but instead it twists me deeper into need. Every kiss feels like I’m not just pleasing her, but also submitting to the torment of her desire for him. It’s maddening, knowing I’m her plaything. She’s dripping for Levi while I’m here, licking her feet. How have we ended up here?

The hum deepens. Her breath shudders, and her smile returns, crueler this time, more deliberate. “You want to know what it feels like?” she breathes. “To be filled like this. Stretched. He’s bigger than you, you know.”

A pause.

“Better.” She adds casually.

I flinch. The word lands like a slap. My stomach knots. My cock throbs helplessly.

“Mm.” She exhales like she’s savouring it. “That got to you.” Her tone is velvet and venom. “You hate that you love this, don’t you?”

I can't speak. I press my lips to her foot again, trembling, ashamed. I’m burning with humiliation, with jealousy, and it only makes me harder.

“You know what’s funny?” she says, almost dreamily. “This whole thing… it started because you brought him up.”

Her merciless eyes catch mine. “You thought I’d get shy. Maybe flustered. But look at you.” Her smile curls, wicked. “Blushing. Rock hard. On your knees, kissing my feet while I fuck myself… thinking about him.”

She laughs, breathless, her free foot nudging my chest like a queen dismissing a servant. “You want this more than I do. But I honestly can’t tell—are you about to cum for me… or cry?”

She sinks deeper into the mattress, legs spreading wider. The vibrator trembles in her hand, her hips twitching at the contact. She’s soaked. I can tell that she’s close. So close.

“I’m thinking about him right now,” she breathes, voice thick with lust. “How he’d fuck me. How he’d make me cum.” Her lip curls into the smallest smirk. “He wouldn’t be gentle. He wouldn’t care how loud I got, or how messy I got, or if you heard. He’d fuck me so fucking good and I’d let him. You know that, don’t you?”

I can’t speak. My chest is tight, my hands clenched in my lap.

She bites her lip, moaning softly, like she’s imagining it in real time. “He’d be bigger than you. Stronger. Just… better. He’d make me take every inch of his big dick. He’d stretch me wide—make me cum so hard I’d forget your name.”

She’s never been this brutal, this cruel. Her words are ripping me apart, turning me on so much I’m close to losing my mind.

She pauses, tilting her head. “Think he’d shoot his load after two pathetic pumps like you do when you’re all worked up??” 

She doesn’t wait for an answer. 

“He’d know exactly how to take me,” she growls, voice thick with heat. “Fuck me until I’m drenched, trembling, completely ruined. Ruined for you.” Her breath catches, thighs trembling beneath her fingers. “And you’d be right here. Just like this. Watching him destroy your girlfriend.”

Her fingers move faster, the tension in her body rising with every stroke.

“You’d hear every moan. Watch every time he makes me cum. And you wouldn’t do a fucking thing.” She gasps, louder now, chest rising. “Because you want this, don’t you?”

I say nothing. I can’t.

“You want to watch me fucked by someone who’s so much better than you.”

She leans in closer, eyes sharp and playful. “Come on, Charlie. You want to watch him fuck me, don’t you?”

I look away, heart racing.

She nudges me gently with her foot, voice softer but firm. “Say it. Tell me you want to watch Levi fuck me better than you ever could.”

I shake my head, voice shaking. “I… I don’t know if I can say that.”

Her smile widens, teasing but demanding. “You can. Say it. I need to hear it.”

I take a deep breath, cheeks burning hotter than ever. “I… I want to watch you with Levi.”

She shudders violently, eyes blazing wide as if she can’t quite believe I actually just said it. Like the words burned through her skin and set her whole body on fire.

Her breath catches in a ragged gasp. “Oh my god…” she murmurs, voice ragged, trembling on the edge of losing control.

Her chest heaves violently, trembling on the edge, her body screaming for release.

“I’m… I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum…” she pants, voice cracked and soaked in want.

And then the sound crashes through the charged air like a gunshot, breaking the spell. 

Knock. Knock.