Carol woke to the sound of silence. The house felt unnaturally still, the kind of quiet that pressed against her ears and made her skin prickle. She lay in bed for what felt like hours, staring at the ceiling, her mind replaying the events of the previous night over and over. The kiss. Annie's lips on hers. The way John had looked at her, his hazel eyes wide with shock and untamed lust as they worshipped his manhood. It all felt like a fever dream, something that couldn't possibly be real, and yet it happened.

Finally, she forced herself to get up. Her legs felt heavy, her movements sluggish as she pulled on a robe and tied it loosely around her waist. The house was empty, the air thick with the scent of coffee that had long since gone cold. She wandered into the kitchen, her bare feet padding softly against the tile floor, a note waiting for her on the counter.

Mom, John, and I are staying at his parents' place for a few days. We'll be back on Sunday. Love you!–Annie.

Carol stared at the note, her fingers trembling as she picked it up. The words blurred in front of her eyes, and she had to read them twice before they fully registered. Annie and John were gone. They had left without saying goodbye, and she wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or hurt. Maybe both.

She set the note back down, her hand lingering on the edge of the counter as she tried to steady herself. The house felt too big without them, the silence pressing in on her from all sides. She poured herself a cup of coffee, though she knew it would taste bitter and stale, and took a sip anyway. The warmth of it did little to ease the knot of tension in her chest.

***

Standing in the kitchen, her fingers drumming nervously against the counter, Carol waited for the sound of the doorbell. It was Sunday, and Annie had said they would be back today. She wasn't sure what time to expect them, but the anticipation had been gnawing at her all morning.

She had cleaned the house, made coffee, and even baked a batch of cookies, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just something to keep her hands busy, to keep her mind from wandering to places it should not. They had to talk about this as soon as possible.

When the doorbell finally rang, she jumped, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, smoothing her hands over her jeans, and walked to the door. She opened it to find John standing there, his tall frame filling the doorway, his hazel eyes locking onto hers immediately. It seemed like he was there by himself.

"Hey, Carol," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Annie's just grabbing some stuff from the car. She sent me ahead."

Carol nodded, forcing a smile. "Come in," she said, stepping aside to let him pass. He brushed past her, his arm grazing hers, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. She closed the door behind him, her hands trembling slightly as she turned the lock.

John stood in the hallway, his hands in his pockets, his gaze sweeping over the house. "Place looks nice," he said, his tone casual, but there was something in his eyes that made Carol's stomach twist.

"Thanks," she said, her voice tight. "I, uh, made some coffee if you want some."

"Sure," he said, following her into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving her as she poured him a cup. She handed it to him, careful not to let their fingers touch, but he reached out, his hand brushing against hers as he took the mug. She pulled her hand back quickly, her cheeks flushing.

"So," he said, taking a sip of the coffee, "how've you been?"

"Fine," she said, her voice clipped. She busied herself with wiping down the counter, though it was already spotless. "You?"

"Good," he said, setting the mug down. He took a step closer to her, his presence overwhelming. "Really good."

Carol could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension in the air thick and suffocating. She kept her eyes on the counter, her hands gripping the edge of it tightly. "That's... that's good," she said, her voice barely audible.

John reached out, his hand brushing against her arm. "Carol," he said, his voice soft, almost pleading.

She froze, her breath catching in her throat. "John, don't," she said, her voice trembling. She tried to step back, but he moved closer, his body pressing against hers.

"I can't stop thinking about," he said, his voice low and husky. "About that night."

Carol's heart was pounding in her chest, her mind racing. She wanted to push him away, to tell him to stop, but the words wouldn't come. She could feel the heat of his body, the way his breath tickled her skin, and it was making it hard to think.

"John, please," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "This isn't right."

"Isn't it?" he asked, his hand moving to her waist, pulling her closer.

Carol's mind was spinning, her body betraying her as she felt herself leaning into him. She knew she should stop this, knew it was wrong, but the way he was looking at her, the way his touch made her feel, it was hard to resist.

"John," she said, her voice trembling. "Stop!"

"Why?" he asked, his lips brushing against her ear. "I would like to give back something."

Carol's breath hitched, her body trembling as she felt his lips trail down her neck. She wanted to stop him, wanted to push him away, but the words would not come. She could feel herself giving in, her resolve crumbling under the weight of his touch.

And then she heard it—Annie's laugh, bright and carefree, coming from the hallway. Carol froze, her heart stopping in her chest. She pushed John away, her hands trembling as she took a step back.

Annie stepped into the kitchen, her blonde hair catching the sunlight streaming through the window. Her eyes flicked between John and Carol, a sly grin spreading across her face. She walked up to John, her hand sliding around his arm, pulling him close.

"Why not, Mom?" Annie asked, her voice light but laced with something daring.

Carol's mouth went dry. She stared at her daughter, her mind racing but her body frozen. The kitchen felt too small, the air too thick. She couldn't find the words, could not even form a sentence. Her gaze darted to John, who stood there, his expression unreadable, his body tense.

Annie tilted her head, her grin widening. "I can tell he wants to," she said, her fingers tightening possessively around John's arm. "And you too."

Carol's cheeks burned, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure they could hear it. She opened her mouth to protest, to say something—anything—but nothing came out.

"You should see your face, Mom," Annie said, grinning.

Carol relaxed a little at her daughter's chuckle; they got her good, she thought to herself.

Annie turned to John, her voice soft but commanding. "Go to my room," she said, her eyes never leaving Carol's.

John hesitated, his gaze flicking to Carol for a moment before he nodded, walking out of the kitchen, his footsteps fading down the hall.

Annie stepped closer to Carol, her eyes sparkling with something mischievous and knowing. "That night," she began, her voice low, "when we both..." She trailed off, her grin turning into a full-blown smile.

Carol's stomach twisted. "We were out of our minds," she blurted, her voice shaky. "Stoned. It shouldn't have happened."

Annie tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "I'm not so sure," she said, her gaze lingering on Carol's face. "I think it felt right."

Carol's breath hitched. She wanted to argue, to tell Annie she was wrong, but she just froze. She could feel the tension in the room, the electricity in the air, and it was making it hard to think.

Annie stepped even closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I can see the way you look at him," she said, her fingers brushing against Carol's arm, just the way John touched her before.

Carol jerked back, her chest tightening. "Annie, stop," she said, her voice trembling.

But Annie didn't stop. She moved forward, her eyes locked on Carol's, her expression soft but insistent. "You need some sort of release, I know that," she said, her voice steady. "And he won't stop talking about what we did, so..."

Annie held her mother close, her breath warm against Carol's ear. "I just want to help you," she whispered, her voice soft but persistent. "This is all okay. It's just sex. No one else has to know, it's between the three of us."

Carol's heart pounded in her chest, her skin burning where Annie's fingers gripped her arm. "This is fucked up," she hissed, her voice trembling. "Do you even hear yourself? This isn't... this isn't right."

Annie tilted her head, a knowing grin spreading across her face. "Maybe," she said, her tone light, almost teasing. "But I know you like it. Watching us. Touching us. Kissing us. Don't pretend you don't."

Carol's stomach churned, her mind racing. She looked away, her cheeks flushing as she tried to steady her breathing. "I'm not going to sleep with my daughter's boyfriend," she said firmly, her voice low and shaky. "You must be nuts."

Annie laughed, the sound light and carefree, but there was an edge to it that made Carol's skin crawl. "So you just suck his dick, then," Annie said, her voice teasing. "Is that it?"

Carol's face burned, hearing those words coming from Annie's lips. Her entire body tightened with a mix of shame and anger. She pulled away from Annie, taking a step back, her hands trembling. "Stop," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just stop."

But Annie didn't stop. She stepped closer, her eyes locked on Carol's, her expression soft but insistent. "You need this," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I can tell. You can't keep pretending you don't."

Carol's breath hitched, her mind spinning. She wanted to argue, to push Annie away, but the words wouldn't come. She could feel the tension in the room, the electricity in the air, and it was making it hard to think.

Annie reached out, her fingers brushing against Carol's arm. "It's okay," she said, her voice soft, almost soothing. "I want this. He wants this. And I know you do too."

Carol's chest tightened, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure Annie could hear it.

"Go in there. Let him take care of you."

Her body tensed, every muscle coiled like a spring, but her feet betrayed her. They carried her forward, one step at a time, toward Annie's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the hall. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her mind screaming at her to stop, to turn around, to leave. But she didn't. She couldn't.

John was sitting on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders tense, his hazel eyes flicking up the moment she stepped inside. The air felt charged, electric, and Carol's skin prickled with a mix of dread and something she didn't want to name. She hesitated in the doorway, her hand gripping the frame, her knuckles turning white.

"Carol," John said, his voice low, almost a growl. He stood, his tall frame towering over her even from across the room. His eyes burned into hers, and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

"John—" she started, but her voice broke. She shook her head, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.

But he was already moving toward her, his steps deliberate, his gaze unwavering. Carol's chest tightened, her legs trembling as she took a step back, only for her body to betray her again. She moved forward, meeting him halfway. Her hand reached out, brushing against his chest before she snatched it back, her cheeks burning.

John's hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were almost flush. His lips brushed against her ear, his voice a low murmur. "You are so sexy."

Carol's breath caught, her body arching into his touch despite herself. She wanted to pull away, to push him off, but her hands gripped his shoulders tighter instead. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, but her body had already made its decision. She was here, and she was not leaving.

Carol's gaze snapped back to the doorframe, searching for Annie, but she was gone. The hallway was empty, the silence deafening. Her pulse raced, her mind screaming at her to stop, to leave, to run. But when she turned back to John, his lips were already on hers, catching her off guard, stealing her breath.

She froze for a split second, her body tensing, but then something inside her gave way. Her lips moved against his, hesitant at first, then with growing urgency. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer, his touch burning through her clothes. She could feel the heat of his body, the way his muscles tensed as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers.

Carol's hands moved on their own, sliding up his chest to grip the back of his neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her body arching into his. Her thoughts were a chaotic blur, but her body knew what it wanted, what it had been craving. She kissed him harder, her teeth grazing his lower lip, eliciting a groan from him.

The air in the room thickened, heavy with unspoken desires and forbidden urges. Carol's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden silence that had replaced the chaos of the hallway. John's eyes burned into hers, a question hanging unspoken between them.

Then, he touched her.

His hand, warm and calloused, traced the line of her jaw, sending a jolt of electricity through her veins. It was a simple touch, a tentative caress, but it shattered the last vestiges of Carol's resolve. Her breath hitched, her body swaying almost imperceptibly toward him.

He lowered his head, his lips hovering just above hers. "Carol," he whispered, his voice rough with need.

The sound of her name, spoken with such raw intensity, was her undoing. She closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his in a kiss that erased all doubt, all hesitation. It was a kiss of desperation, of surrender, of long-suppressed yearnings finally unleashed.

His mouth opened against hers, his tongue plunging inside, tasting, exploring, claiming. Carol met his advances with a fervor that surprised even herself. She had been so careful, so controlled for so long, but now, in this moment, all restraints were gone. She was a wildfire, burning out of control, consumed by the inferno of her own desires.

His hands roamed over her back, pressing her tighter against him, molding their bodies together. She could feel the hard planes of his chest against her breasts, the heat of his thighs against hers. Her own hands were equally frantic, gripping his shoulders, tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, as if she could somehow absorb him into herself.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. Their breaths mingled, hot and ragged. She could taste him  — the salty tang of his skin, the sweet musk of his desire. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and she found herself drowning in it, lost in the sensation.

He broke the kiss, gasping for air, his eyes dark and dilated.

His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, lifting it slowly, deliberately, as if savoring each inch of exposed skin. Carol shivered, her nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric.

She returned the gesture, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her haste betraying her hunger. She popped them open one by one, her eyes never leaving his. When the last button came undone, she pushed the fabric aside, reveling in the sight of his bare chest.

His skin was smooth and warm, sculpted with lean muscle  — that nineteen-year-old body. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. A low groan rumbled in his chest as he pressed her closer, his mouth returning to hers with renewed urgency.

They discarded their shirts, tossing them carelessly to the floor, forgetting them in the heat of the moment. Carol's arms snaked around his neck, her fingernails digging into his skin as his kisses became more insistent. A gasp escaped her lips.

Her fingers fumbled with the clasp, and she opened her bra and pushed aside the lace, freeing her breasts.

John's breath hitched, and his eyes darkened as he gazed at her exposed flesh. Her nipples were tight and swollen, aching for his touch. Her breath caught at his expression, a mix of awe and desire that made her feel both vulnerable and powerful.

He reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he brushed against one nipple. A jolt of electricity shot through her, and she arched her back, her eyes closing in ecstasy.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, his voice husky with emotion.

Carol's eyes fluttered open, and she gazed at him, her heart swelling with a longing she couldn't explain. It wasn't just lust that she felt, but something deeper, something more profound. She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, memorizing the curve of his lips.

Again, he moved, his arms wrapping around her, his fingers digging into her skin as he picked her up. Carol somehow relaxed a little as he was carrying her, bringing her to the bed.

He carefully placed her on Annie's bed, making sure she was comfortable before kissing her again. He did not lose much time, kissing down her neck, making Carol gasp from the sensation of his hor lips on her skin.

Finally, John's lips closed around one of Carol's nipples, his tongue flicking against it in a slow rhythm that was just perfect. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides as she fought the urge to pull him closer. Lost in this moment—in the sensation of his mouth on...