Chapter 6

The air in the garage studio thickened, saturated with the scent of male musk, Sarah’s floral perfume turning cloying, and the underlying tang of old wood and electronics. Daniel’s hand hovered, knuckles white, just above the curve of Sarah’s skirt where it met the small of her back. The heat radiating from her skin seemed to sear his palm through the cotton fabric. On the large screen, the close-up was obscene: his wife’s delicate fingers working rhythmically, slickly, up and down the obscene girth of George’s cock, her knuckles straining. George’s low, continuous groans vibrated in Daniel’s own chest.

"Daniel." Evelyn’s voice was a sharp whisper, slicing through the humid haze. Her camera, previously drinking in Sarah’s focused movements, swivelled smoothly towards him, its lens a dark, unblinking eye. "Don’t just watch, darling. Join in. Let her feel what you’ve been hiding under those righteous jeans all afternoon. Show her you're still in this."

The command landed like a physical blow. His gaze snapped from the screen to Evelyn, her eyes gleaming with predatory amusement. Then back to Sarah. Her rhythm hadn’t faltered; if anything, spurred by Evelyn’s words or George’s responding growl, her strokes became firmer, her other hand drifting down to cup the heavy weight of George’s sac, her fingers tentatively exploring the wrinkled skin. The sight punched the air from Daniel’s lungs. She’s touching him. All of him.

A desperate, guttural sound escaped him, nothing like prayer. It was pure, feral need battling the ingrained walls of shame. His hovering hand clenched into a fist, then dropped. Not onto her back, but to his own waistband. His fingers, slick with nervous sweat, fumbled with the button of his jeans. The rasp of the zipper sounded unnaturally loud in the space between George’s groans and the low hum of the computer fans.

He shoved the denim and cotton boxers down his hips in one rough motion. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, bobbing heavily against his stomach. The sudden coolness of the air was a shock, instantly replaced by the heat of his own trapped arousal. He felt exposed, vulnerable, yet a raw current of defiance surged through him. Look. Look what you make me do.

Sarah’s head whipped around. Her eyes, wide and already dilated with conflicting arousal, locked onto him. Her gaze dropped, shock flaring bright and sharp in her expression as she took in his erection. Her hand on George stilled completely, her grip tightening involuntarily on his shaft, making him hiss.

"Sarah," Evelyn chided softly, her camera capturing Daniel’s nakedness, the shock on Sarah’s face. "Don’t leave poor George hanging. He’s right there. Needing you." Evelyn’s gaze flicked meaningfully between Daniel and Sarah. "And he's right there. Needing you too. Multitask, sweetheart. The night’s young."

Sarah’s breath hitched. Torn, she looked back at George. His eyes, heavy-lidded but intensely watchful, met hers. There was no reproach, only that unnerving patience, that waiting heat. A silent command. Continue.

Her hand started moving again on George, a tentative stroke, then another, regaining the rhythm. But her attention fractured. Her eyes kept darting back to Daniel, standing there, jeans bunched around his thighs, his cock jutting out, thick and hard and entirely his. The forbidden familiarity of it warred violently with the novelty of the monstrous heat filling her other hand. Her husband. Exposed. Wanting. Her. But also… here.

Daniel saw the flicker in her eyes. Saw the way her gaze snagged on his hardness, a primal recognition beneath the shock. Saw the way her breath quickened. The hovering hand that Evelyn had mocked finally moved. Not gently. Possessively. It landed on Sarah’s hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh above the waistband of her skirt. Anchoring her. Claiming her, even as she touched another man.

He needed more. Needed to feel the reality of her, the heat he knew was pooling between her legs, the slick evidence of whatever this was doing to her. His fingers, still trembling but driven by a desperate instinct that bypassed thought, slipped under the loose hem of her skirt. The fabric rasped against his knuckles.

He encountered the thin cotton of her underwear first. Damp. Soaking. The confirmation sent a jolt through him, equal parts triumph and gut-wrenching jealousy. She’s wet. For this. For him? For me? For the sin?

He didn’t pause. Couldn’t. The dam had burst. With a ragged groan that echoed George’s but held a different, more frantic edge, Daniel hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties. He didn’t peel them down. He yanked. The fragile cotton tore with a sharp, definitive rrrippp, the sound obscenely loud. He pulled the ruined fabric aside, baring her.

Sarah gasped, a sharp cry ripped from her throat. Her hand froze completely on George. She twisted, trying to look back at Daniel, her face a mask of shock, embarrassment, and something else—something raw and startled open. Her large, dark lips were already swollen, glistening under the harsh studio lights, framed by damp, dark curls. The sight was profoundly intimate, profoundly vulnerable. Daniel stared, mesmerized and horrified by his own violence, by the blatant exposure.

George made a low, appreciative sound, his eyes fixed on the revealed intimacy, his cock twitching hard in Sarah’s stilled grip. "Well, now," he murmured, his voice thick.

Evelyn let out a delighted chuckle. "Daniel! Taking initiative! I like it. Don't stop now, lover. She's right there. Needing you too." The camera panned lower, capturing Sarah's bared sex, Daniel's hand gripping her hip, the torn underwear.

Daniel’s breath came in harsh pants. The torn fabric felt alien and shameful in his fist. He dropped it. His gaze remained locked on Sarah’s exposed flesh, on the glistening evidence of her arousal. His cock throbbed, aching. The hovering hand, the one that had torn, moved almost of its own volition. It slid from her hip, lower, fingertips grazing the soft skin of her inner thigh. She flinched, a small, involuntary jerk.

He ignored it. Ignored everything but the overwhelming need to touch, to claim, to know. His fingers pushed through the damp curls. Found slick, swollen heat. Her pussy lips felt impossibly soft, yielding, yet full and heavy against his probing touch. Hotter than he remembered. Slicker.

He traced the outer curve of one plump lip, his finger slipping on the wetness. She whimpered, a high, tremulous sound. Her hand, forgotten on George’s shaft, twitched, her knuckles brushing the base. George sucked in a sharp breath.

Daniel dipped lower, finding the soaked entrance. He pressed the pad of one finger against it, not entering, just feeling the heat, the yielding softness, the unbelievable wetness waiting. His mind screamed sin. His body screamed now.

His thumb found the stiffening nub above it, slick and prominent. He rubbed. A small, rough circle.

Sarah cried out. Not in pain. Not in protest. It was a fractured, gasping sound of pure, startled sensation, her back arching slightly, pressing her hips back against his seeking hand even as her head dropped forward, her eyes squeezing shut. Her neglected hand tightened reflexively around George’s cock, a spasm that drew a deep, resonant groan from the older man.

Daniel stared at his wife’s arched back, at the screen showing his own hand buried between her legs, at George’s immense arousal held in her grip. The world narrowed to the slick heat under his thumb, the frantic pulse he could feel against his finger, the torn cotton still clutched forgotten in his other fist, and Evelyn’s satisfied whisper, barely audible over the roaring in his ears:

"Now, that's a proper beginning."

Daniel’s thumb circled Sarah’s clit again, firmer this time, stealing her breath in a ragged gasp. His other hand, still clutching the torn scrap of her panties, pressed roughly against the small of her back, holding her in place against his touch and George’s looming presence. "Look at him, Sarah," Daniel rasped, his voice thick with a possessiveness that startled even him. "Look what you’re doing to him. Look what you’re making me do."

Sarah’s head lifted, trembling, her eyes wide and unfocused for a second before locking onto George’s face. His jaw was tight, eyes dark with an intensity that burned away any remaining pretense of grandfatherly kindness, focused solely on her hand still wrapped loosely around his base. Seeing her husband's cock stand inches from her lips while Daniel worked her own wetness seemed to short-circuit her. She whimpered, a high, needy sound, her fingers instinctively tightening on George, drawing a low, approving growl from deep in his chest.

Evelyn edged closer, her camera angled sharply down. The lens whirred softly, focusing relentlessly on the convergence: Sarah’s slick folds under Daniel’s frantic fingers, the torn edge of her underwear, the base of George’s cock where her knuckles pressed. "Closer, Daniel," Evelyn murmured, her voice a cool counterpoint to the heavy breathing filling the garage. "Don’t be shy now. She’s dripping for you. Feel it." The camera tilted, capturing the glistening evidence smeared on Daniel’s knuckles. Evelyn films closer, the lens hovering mere inches from Sarah’s exposed sex and Daniel’s invading hand, the mechanical eye drinking in every tremor, every bead of moisture.

George shifted his weight slightly, his movement minimal but commanding attention. "She wants more, son," he said, his voice surprisingly steady, a rumble of pure experience. His gaze flickered between Sarah’s overwhelmed expression and Daniel’s tortured one. "That little button… needs firmer attention. Don’t make her beg." He punctuated it by rolling his hips almost imperceptibly into Sarah’s slackened grip, a silent demand she instantly obeyed, her fingers starting a tentative slide up his veined shaft.

Daniel flinched as if struck. Son. The word, patronizing and erotic, cut through his haze. Rage warred with the terrible, undeniable pull of Sarah’s heat under his hand. He dug his thumb harder against her clit, grinding the pad in a rough circle. Sarah cried out, arching, her head falling back against his shoulder, her mouth open on a silent scream. Her free hand flew out, grasping blindly, finding George’s thick thigh and clutching it for balance.

"Yesss," Evelyn hissed, leaning in impossibly close, the camera now focused solely on Daniel’s thumb working Sarah’s swollen flesh, the intimate folds parting and glistening under the harsh light. "That’s the spot. See how she jumps? Pure electricity. Keep going. Make her sing for us." The camera’s soft whine was a constant, invasive presence.

Daniel felt Sarah convulse around his thumb, a shudder rippling through her core. Her eyes snapped open, locking onto George with desperate intensity, pleading silently. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. George held her gaze, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. He gave the slightest nod. Permission. Encouragement.

Daniel saw it. Saw her yearning focused entirely on the older man’s cock, inches from her face. A vicious jealousy, sharp as broken glass, sliced through him. He needed to reclaim her, shatter that connection. His fingers, slick with her arousal, abandoned her clit. He plunged two fingers deep inside her without warning, curling them upwards.

Sarah’s cry was louder this time, guttural, her body clamping down hard around his thrusting fingers. Her head whipped back against Daniel’s chest, eyes wide with shock and overwhelming sensation. Her grip on George tightened reflexively, her knuckles white. “Fuck! Daniel!” The curse, raw and unfiltered, tore from her lips.

George groaned, a deep, resonant sound of pure pleasure. His hand covered hers on his shaft, guiding her into a faster, firmer stroke. “There’s my girl,” he murmured, his gaze hot on Sarah’s face as she writhed against Daniel’s invasion. “Take it. Take his fingers. Show him how hungry that pretty little cunt is.”

Daniel felt her inner muscles spasm around his fingers, hot and wet and clenching. He pulled back slightly, then slammed them in again, deeper. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice a dark, ragged whisper that only she could hear over George’s groans and Evelyn’s quiet directives. “You like that, Sarah? Like his cock in your hand? Like my fingers in your pussy? Tell me you love it. Tell me you love being our filthy little whore.”

Tears welled in Sarah’s eyes, spilling over as another wave of sensation crashed through her. Shame warred with a terrifying, exhilarating abandon. She nodded frantically against Daniel’s shoulder, a choked sob escaping her. “Yes… oh God, yes…”

Evelyn’s camera lens was a silent, unblinking witness, zoomed in tight on the spot where Daniel’s fingers disappeared rhythmically into Sarah’s glistening entrance. “Beautiful,” Evelyn breathed, pure satisfaction in the word. “Absolutely fucking beautiful. Now, Daniel… stop teasing. Give her what she’s begging for. Right here. Right now. While she’s holding him.”

Daniel didn’t hesitate. He yanked his fingers free with a wet sound that echoed in the sudden tension. Sarah gasped at the sudden emptiness. He grabbed his own cock, thick and painfully hard, slicking the head roughly with the wetness coating his hand. He positioned himself behind her, his other hand gripping her hip hard enough to bruise. He met George’s eyes over her shoulder. A challenge. A claim.

George held his gaze, a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes, then gave a slow, deliberate nod, his hand still guiding Sarah’s strokes on his own rigid length. Evelyn held her breath, the camera impossibly steady, capturing it all.

Daniel drove his cock into Sarah with one powerful, brutal thrust.

The brutal thrust punched the air from Sarah’s lungs. A ragged scream tore free, half agony, half shock, echoing off the garage walls. Her body arched violently, back pressed hard against Daniel’s chest, her fingers instinctively clenching around George’s thick shaft, drawing a sharp, approving hiss from him. "Fuck! Daniel!" she gasped, tears springing to her eyes, her free hand scrabbling against George’s thigh for purchase. The invasion was overwhelming, a burning stretch that stole her breath, the torn remnants of her underwear catching awkwardly against his thrusting hips. The sheer, sudden fullness was terrifying, obliterating thought.

Daniel groaned, a deep, guttural sound ripped from somewhere primal. He held himself buried to the hilt, trembling, feeling her inner muscles flutter and clamp around him in startled reflex. The slick heat was staggering, the forbidden intimacy of being inside her while her other hand held another man almost broke him. He pressed his forehead against her sweat-damp hair, breathing harshly.

"Christ, Sarah," he choked out, the words muffled against her neck. "So fucking tight." His hands tightened bruisingly on her hips, holding her impaled, his own arousal warring with a dizzying wave of guilt and dark, possessive triumph.

Evelyn’s camera whirred softly, zooming in tight on the point where Daniel’s body met Sarah’s, capturing the slick glisten, the stretched flesh, the torn lace still visible. "Oh, that’s the shot," she breathed, pure satisfaction lacing her voice. "Look at her take it, George. Look at our sweet girl opening up."

George’s gaze was locked not on the camera, but on Sarah’s face. He saw the tears, the shock, the raw vulnerability, and beneath it, a flicker of something hotter, darker, responding to the brutal possession. He gently covered her hand where it still gripped him, guiding it back into a slow, deliberate stroke. "Easy, darling," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. "Breathe. Just breathe through it. He’s giving you what you needed." His thumb traced circles on her knuckles, a terrifying counterpoint to Daniel’s immovable presence inside her.

Daniel felt her tentative, involuntary contraction around him again. A spark ignited low in his belly, burning through the guilt. He pulled back slowly, the drag agonizing, feeling every ridge, every clench. Sarah whimpered, a small, broken sound. "Don't..."

He thrust back in, hard, but not as brutally as the first time. Purposeful. Deep. Claiming. Her gasp this time held less shock, more raw sensation. "You feel that?" he demanded, his voice rough against her ear. "That's me. Me."

Sarah’s head lolled back against his shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut. Her body was a battleground: shame warring with the undeniable, building pressure coiling low in her belly, ignited by Daniel's possession and George’s commanding touch on her hand. "I... I feel it," she whispered, the confession torn from her.

"Good girl," George purred, his own hips pushing subtly into her stroking hand. "Now show him how wet you are. Show him you can take more."

Evelyn shifted position, the lens now capturing the intensity on George’s face, the dazed submission on Sarah’s, the focused, almost feral determination on Daniel’s. "That’s it, Daniel," she encouraged, her voice a silken thread winding through the heavy air. "Find her rhythm. Make her move with you."

Daniel needed no further prompting. The dam had shattered. He withdrew again, then plunged back in, setting a relentless, demanding pace. Short, sharp thrusts at first, testing her limits, feeling her body resist then yield. Sarah cried out with each deep penetration, her cries shifting from pain to a keening note of overwhelmed pleasure-pain. Her hand moved faster on George, almost frantically, matching the rhythm Daniel imposed on her body.

"Yeah," Daniel growled, spurred by her response, by the slick, wet sounds filling the garage, by the sight of her hand working George. "Take it. Take all of me." He drove harder, deeper, the force rocking her entire body forward against George’s guiding hand. The torn lace scraped her skin, a sharp counterpoint to the deep, spreading burn.

George watched, enthralled, his own breathing ragged as Sarah’s grip tightened reflexively on him with each powerful thrust Daniel delivered. "Look at her," he said, his voice thick with arousal, directed at Daniel over Sarah’s shoulder. "Look what you're doing to her. Look how she opens for you." He guided her stroking hand to the very base of his cock, pressing her fingers into the heavy sac beneath. "Feel that, Sarah? Feel how hard he makes me, watching him fuck you?"

Sarah’s eyes flew open, wide and unfocused, meeting George’s intense gaze. The dual sensation – Daniel pistoning into her core, George’s thick heat and weight filling her hand, his words branding her – was too much. A choked sob escaped her, mixed with a moan as Daniel hit a spot deep inside that sent electric shocks up her spine. Her hips began to move, tentatively at first, then with growing urgency, meeting Daniel’s thrusts.

Daniel felt her shift, felt her inner muscles ripple and grasp him with newfound hunger. A fierce surge of possessive pride washed over him. He wrapped one arm around her waist, hauling her back harder onto him with each powerful drive, the other hand sliding up to roughly palm her breast through her blouse. "That's it," he rasped, his breath hot on her neck. "Fuck back on me. Show him who you belong to."

"Who?" George challenged softly, his eyes gleaming, his own hips pushing insistently against her working hand. "Who does she belong to right now, Daniel? While she’s holding this?"

Daniel’s rhythm faltered for a split second, jealousy a white-hot knife. He answered with action, not words. He slammed into her with renewed brutality, bending her slightly forward, driving her hand harder onto George’s cock with the force of his movement. Sarah cried out, a sound that was almost a scream, her body bowing under the dual assault.

Evelyn’s laugh was low and delighted. "Oh, boys, play nice. Share the toy." The camera panned down relentlessly, framing the impossible intimacy: Daniel’s powerful thrusts, Sarah’s body caught between them, her hand lost in George’s lap. "But don't stop. She’s close. I can see it. Can you feel it, Daniel? That little flutter deep inside?"

Daniel could feel it. A frantic, fluttering pulse starting to build around his cock, a telltale tightening. Sarah was panting, her moans becoming continuous, high-pitched whines. Her movements grew erratic, losing the rhythm, her focus splintering under the onslaught of sensation. She was teetering on the edge, her body tightening like a coiled spring.

George leaned in, his lips brushing Sarah’s ear, his voice a dark, intimate counterpoint to Daniel’s harsh breathing. "Let go, sweetheart. It's okay. Let him feel you come. Show him how good it feels when you break." His hand tightened over hers, forcing her grip even tighter on his rigid length.

The command, the sheer permission shattering her last resistance, tipped her over. Sarah’s back arched violently, a strangled scream ripped from her throat as her entire body convulsed around Daniel’s driving cock. Her inner walls clamped down in fierce, rhythmic pulses, milking him, pulling a ragged shout from his own lips as the intense pressure threatened to unravel him instantly. Her hand clenched convulsively on George, her knuckles white.

Daniel gritted his teeth, fighting his own climax, determined to ride out hers. He held himself deep, grinding against her, feeling every violent spasm tear through her. "Yes! Oh fuck, Sarah! Yes!" he roared, his own control fraying. He watched, mesmerized and fiercely possessive, as her face contorted in ecstatic agony, tears streaming down her cheeks, her body utterly possessed by the orgasm Daniel had ripped from her.

George held her gaze throughout, his expression one of dark, satisfied hunger. He didn't move, letting her shattering climax wash over her while her hand remained locked around him, a trembling, involuntary anchor. "Beautiful," he murmured, the word thick with his own barely contained need. "Absolutely fucking beautiful."

Evelyn sighed, a sound of pure aesthetic pleasure. The camera lingered on Sarah’s shuddering release, Daniel’s strained face buried in her neck, George’s unwavering, possessive stare. "Perfect," she whispered. "Hold that... just like that." The soft click of the shutter sounded absurdly loud in the sudden, heavy silence broken only by Sarah’s ragged sobs and the men’s harsh breathing. George’s hand slid up Sarah’s arm, his fingers tightening almost painfully over Daniel’s, where they still gripped Sarah’s hip.

"Now," George said, his voice low and dangerous, his gaze locked on Daniel’s over Sarah’s trembling shoulder. "Let's see if you can make her come again before you fill her up."

Chapter 7

The harsh studio lights burned. Sarah’s world narrowed to the thick, salty heat filling her mouth, the insistent pressure of George’s fingers tangled in her hair, and the relentless, deep thrusts of Daniel behind her, stretching her impossibly full. Her muffled moan vibrated against George’s cock, swallowed by the slick, obscene sound of Daniel pistoning into her. Tears leaked from her squeezed-shut eyes, mingling with spit and pre-come slicking her chin. The torn remnants of her underwear scraped her inner thighs, a sharp, grounding reminder of Daniel’s violent claim earlier.

"Open wider, sweetheart," George murmured above her, his voice a low rumble she felt in her jawbone. His thumb stroked her temple, a terrifyingly gentle counterpoint to the firm grip holding her head in place. "Take it all. Show Daniel how hungry you are." He pushed deeper, the head nudging the back of her throat. She gagged, reflex tightening her throat, her body instinctively arching away only to be slammed back onto Daniel’s cock by his bruising grip on her hips.

Daniel’s groan was ragged, torn between fury and desperate arousal. He watched her lips stretch obscenely around George’s girth, watched her throat work, watched the tears track down her flushed cheeks. His own thrusts became harder, faster, punishing. "Yeah," he hissed, his voice thick, "take him. Swallow him. Show me how much you love that fucking cock." His fingers, slick from her own wetness, dug into the soft flesh above her hip bones. The possessive fury warred violently with the overwhelming sensation of her tight heat clenching around him, spurred by the dual invasion.

Evelyn’s voice sliced through the humid air, cool and precise from behind the camera’s glare. "Focus, Daniel. Don’t just watch. Feel her. Feel how she tightens around you every time George pushes deeper. That’s your cock she’s gripping." The lens whirred, zooming in on the point where Daniel’s body met Sarah’s, capturing the glistening stretch, the frantic pulse of her entrance. "George, ease up just a fraction. Let her breathe. We want her conscious for the finale."

George chuckled, a dark, indulgent sound. He pulled back slightly, letting Sarah gasp in a shuddering breath, her throat raw. Her eyes fluttered open, dazed, meeting his amused, predatory gaze. "Better?" he asked softly, his thumb wiping a tear-streak. It felt like mockery. Before she could even nod, his hand tightened again, guiding her head back down. "Good. Now, deeper this time. Show Daniel what a good girl you can be."

Sarah whimpered, the sound lost against his skin. She obeyed, forcing her jaw wider, trying to relax her throat as the thick head pressed insistently past her gag reflex. The stretch burned. Saliva pooled, dripping onto her chest. Behind her, Daniel’s rhythm became frantic, spurred by Evelyn’s words and the sight of Sarah’s submission. Each powerful thrust drove her forward onto George’s cock, forcing her deeper than she thought possible. Her vision blurred. The posters on the garage walls – grinning, impossibly proportioned figures – swam in her periphery.

"That’s it!" Evelyn crowed. The camera panned rapidly between Sarah’s face, contorted around George’s shaft, and Daniel’s strained expression, sweat dripping from his brow onto Sarah’s back. "Feel her, Daniel! Feel her convulse! She’s close again. Aren’t you, Sarah? Tell him. Tell him how badly you need to come."

Sarah couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. The sensations were a hurricane: the suffocating fullness in her mouth and throat, the deep, bruising penetration behind, the rough scrape of denim against her thighs from Daniel’s bunched jeans, the sharp sting where his fingers dug into her hips, the terrifying, building pressure coiling low in her belly despite the shame, despite the violation. A high, desperate whine escaped her around George’s cock.

Daniel heard it. Saw the frantic flutter of her eyelids, the way her inner muscles suddenly clamped down on him like a vise, rhythmic and involuntary. "Fuck! She’s… she’s squeezing me!" he gasped, his thrusts losing their punishing rhythm, becoming shallow, grinding pulses as her body milked him. "Sarah… oh god, Sarah…"

George watched her face, saw the dawning panic mixed with overwhelming sensation. He pulled back just enough to let her gasp, "P-please…" Her voice was wrecked, a raw whisper.

"Please what, darling?" George asked, his voice deceptively soft. His hand remained firm on the back of her head. "Please stop? Or please more?"

Sarah’s eyes, wide and terrified, locked onto his. The truth was a physical ache, a terrifying need eclipsing everything. Her hips moved weakly, pushing back against Daniel’s cock still buried deep inside her, seeking friction, seeking release from the unbearable tension. "M-more," she choked out, the word a betrayal of everything she thought she believed. "Please…"

George’s smile was slow, triumphant. "There’s my girl." He pushed her head down firmly again, filling her mouth completely. "Take it. And come for Daniel. Show him what you look like when you break."

The command shattered her. As George’s cock slid deep into her throat, triggering another gag that she fought through, Daniel felt her inner walls explode into frantic, fluttering contractions. Her body arched violently, trapped between them, a silent scream locked behind the obstruction in her throat. Her hands flew up, scrabbling weakly against George’s thighs, her legs trembling uncontrollably. The orgasm ripped through her, fierce and total, obliterating thought, shame, doctrine. It was pure, animal sensation, a white-hot detonation centered on the relentless fullness consuming her front and back.

Daniel roared, unable to hold back. Her violent inner spasms milked him mercilessly. He slammed into her one final, brutal time, burying himself to the hilt as his own release tore through him, hot pulses deep inside her clenching core. He collapsed forward over her, his forehead pressing between her shoulder blades, his breath coming in ragged, shuddering gasps.

George held her head down, feeling the frantic vibrations of her muffled cries against his shaft, the tremors wracking her entire frame. He groaned, a deep, satisfied sound, his own control fraying as he watched her shatter. "Beautiful," he breathed, the word thick with his own arousal. "Absolutely fucking beautiful."

Evelyn sighed, a sound of pure aesthetic bliss. The camera lingered on Sarah’s convulsing form, pinned between the two men, her face pressed into George’s lap, Daniel slumped over her back. The lens captured the slick mess between her legs, the tear tracks glistening, the utter ruin of her composure. "Hold…" Evelyn whispered, the shutter clicking softly. "Hold that… perfection."

Slowly, George eased his grip, allowing Sarah to pull back. She gasped, coughing, strings of saliva and pre-come connecting her lips to his glistening cock. She sagged, utterly spent, held upright only by Daniel’s weight and his softening cock still inside her. Her eyes were vacant, staring at nothing, her breath coming in shallow, hitched sobs. The pious mask was gone, replaced by raw, exposed need and the dazed aftermath of surrender.

Daniel lifted his head slightly, looking down at the wreckage of his wife. A complex wave of guilt, fierce possessiveness, and dark satisfaction washed over him. He pulled out slowly, the drag making Sarah whimper softly. He saw his release mixed with hers, glistening on her inner thighs and the torn lace still clinging to her skin.

George gently stroked Sarah’s sweat-damp hair back from her forehead. Her eyes fluttered, focusing vaguely on him. "There you are," he murmured, his thumb tracing her swollen lower lip. "Welcome back." He glanced up at Daniel, his gaze unreadable. "She took it well."

Daniel just stared, unable to form words. Evelyn lowered her camera, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. She stepped closer, her gaze sweeping over Sarah’s trembling form. "Oh, she did indeed." She reached out, not touching Sarah, but tracing a finger in the air just above the glistening mess between her legs. "Look at that. Absolutely soaked. Both of you filled her up nicely." Her eyes flicked to George’s still-hard cock, glistening with Sarah’s saliva. "Plenty left in the tank, Georgie?"

George chuckled, low and dark. "Always." His hand slid down Sarah’s arm, his fingers brushing lightly over Daniel’s where they still rested on Sarah’s hip. "Plenty of night left too." His gaze held Daniel’s, a silent challenge hanging heavy in the humid, sex-scented air. Daniel felt a fresh, dangerous current spark beneath his exhaustion. Evelyn’s smile widened. The camera’s red recording light blinked steadily, a silent promise of more.

The camera’s red recording light blinked steadily, a silent promise of more. The humid air hung thick with sweat, sex, and the faint ozone tang of electronics. Sarah trembled, slumped against Daniel’s chest, her breath still ragged hitches, her thighs slick and sticky. Daniel stared blankly at the mess on his hands, the towel he’d grabbed hovering uselessly near Sarah’s hip. George leaned back against a workbench, watching them both with dark, satisfied eyes, his cock still thick and glistening.

The red light blinked. Evelyn lowered the camera. Its tripod legs scraped softly on the concrete floor. She stepped away from the viewfinder, her movements deliberate, unhurried. Her gaze swept over Sarah’s wrecked form, Daniel’s shell-shocked face, George’s lingering hardness. A slow, knowing smile curved her lips. "Well," she breathed, the word slicing through the heavy silence. "That was quite the opening act."

She didn’t look at George. Her focus was entirely on the younger couple. She walked towards them, heels clicking softly. Sarah flinched as Evelyn stopped inches away, her elegant perfume cutting through the musk. Evelyn’s hand, cool and dry, lifted Sarah’s chin. Sarah’s eyes, wide and dazed, met hers. "Look at you," Evelyn murmured, her thumb tracing the tear track on Sarah’s cheek. "Utterly undone. Beautifully ruined." Her thumb moved lower, brushing Sarah’s swollen, spit-slicked lower lip. "And so very, very wet."

Daniel stiffened, his arm tightening protectively around Sarah’s waist. "Evelyn," he started, his voice rough, strained. "She’s… she needs…"

"Needs?" Evelyn cut him off, her tone sharpening, though her smile remained. Her eyes flicked to Daniel, dismissive. "She needs exactly what she just got. What she asked for." She looked back at Sarah, her gaze intense. "Didn’t you, darling? You begged for more." Sarah whimpered, a tiny sound escaping her bruised lips. Evelyn’s smile widened. "See?"

Her hand left Sarah’s face. It drifted down, fingers trailing lightly over Sarah’s collarbone, the swell of her breast. Sarah shuddered violently. Evelyn’s touch wasn’t rough, but it was utterly possessive, clinical almost. Her fingers dipped lower, skimming Sarah’s trembling stomach, heading inexorably towards the glistening mess between her legs. Daniel made a strangled noise. "Don’t!"

Evelyn paused, her fingers hovering just above the dark, swollen curls. She looked at Daniel, her expression hardening. "Or what, Daniel?" Her voice was low, dangerous. "You’ll stop me? After letting George fill her mouth while you pounded her from behind?" She laughed, a short, brittle sound. "You lost the right to play the chivalrous husband about ten minutes ago, darling." Her gaze dropped back to Sarah’s core. "Look at her. She’s still pulsing. Still aching."

Her fingers finally touched Sarah’s slick, swollen folds. Sarah gasped, her hips jerking involuntarily. Evelyn’s touch was firm, exploring, parting her. "Oh, yes," Evelyn breathed, her eyes gleaming with predatory fascination. "Huge lips, just like I imagined. So plump. So… used." She slid a finger along Sarah’s slit, gathering wetness. Sarah whimpered again, a confusing mix of shame and unwanted sensation coiling low in her belly. Evelyn lifted her glistening finger, examining it in the harsh light. "See, Daniel? She’s not done. Not even close."

Evelyn turned her head, finally acknowledging George. "Georgie, be a dear. Hold her steady." George pushed off the workbench instantly, his large hands settling firmly on Sarah’s shoulders, pinning her against Daniel’s chest. Daniel instinctively wrapped his arms tighter around Sarah, a cage within a cage. "Good," Evelyn purred. She dropped gracefully to her knees on the concrete floor in front of Sarah. The move was shockingly fluid for her age.

Sarah’s eyes widened in fresh panic. "No," she whispered, trying to twist away, but George’s grip was immovable. Daniel froze, his breath catching, watching Evelyn kneel before his wife. Evelyn ignored Sarah’s plea. Her hands slid up Sarah’s inner thighs, pushing them wider apart despite Sarah’s weak resistance. She leaned in, her gaze fixed on Sarah’s exposed, glistening sex. The scent, thick and primal, filled the space between them.

"Look at this," Evelyn murmured, almost to herself. Her thumbs pressed against Sarah’s outer lips, spreading her wider, exposing the flushed, trembling inner flesh. Sarah cried out, a sound of pure, mortified exposure. Evelyn’s eyes drank it in. "Absolutely exquisite wreckage." She glanced up at Sarah’s terrified face, then deliberately turned her head towards Daniel. Her gaze locked onto his. "Watch him, Sarah," she commanded softly. "Watch your husband watch me taste you."

Evelyn lowered her head. Her tongue, surprisingly agile and warm, flicked out. It traced a slow, deliberate path along Sarah’s slick, swollen inner lips. Sarah gasped, her body arching against George’s restraining hands. Evelyn hummed appreciatively, the vibration sending a jolt through Sarah’s core. Her tongue delved deeper, exploring the sensitive folds, lapping at the mingled fluids coating Sarah’s skin. It was intimate, invasive, utterly consuming.

Daniel watched, transfixed. He saw the pink tip of Evelyn’s tongue pressing against his wife’s most intimate flesh, saw Sarah’s thighs tremble violently, saw the mixture of horror and helpless arousal contorting her face. A fresh wave of heat, potent and shameful, surged through him, hardening him again against Sarah’s backside. Evelyn pulled back slightly, her lips glistening. She looked directly at Daniel, a challenge in her eyes. "Salty," she stated, her voice husky. "Sweet. And utterly addictive." She leaned in again, her mouth closing firmly over Sarah’s engorged clit.

Sarah screamed. It wasn’t a sound of pain, but of shocking, overwhelming sensation. Her body bucked wildly, held fast only by George’s strength. Evelyn sucked, hard and rhythmic, her tongue working expertly. George chuckled above her, his thumbs digging into Sarah’s shoulders. "There she goes again," he rumbled. "Like a fucking firecracker."

Daniel felt Sarah convulse against him, her inner muscles clenching rhythmically around nothing. Her scream dissolved into choked, gasping sobs. Evelyn didn’t stop. She intensified her assault, one hand sliding down to plunge two fingers deep inside Sarah’s clutching heat. Sarah’s head thrashed, her cries muffled against Daniel’s chest. Evelyn worked her fingers in tandem with her mouth, relentless, efficient. Sarah’s orgasm ripped through her, shorter, sharper than the last, a brutal aftershock that left her limp and shuddering, tears streaming silently down her face.

Evelyn finally lifted her head. She licked her lips slowly, deliberately, her eyes never leaving Daniel’s horrified, fascinated stare. Sarah’s wetness glistened on her chin. She rose smoothly to her feet, ignoring Sarah’s broken whimpers. She stepped close to Daniel, so close he could smell Sarah on her breath. Her hand, still slick, reached down and wrapped firmly around his newly hardened cock. He gasped, jerking in her grasp.

"See?" Evelyn whispered, her voice a low, intimate rasp directly in his ear. Her hand began a slow, deliberate stroke. "You want it too." She squeezed, her thumb rubbing the leaking head. "You want to watch." Her other hand gestured vaguely towards Sarah, still trembling in George’s grip. "You want to own this." Her grip tightened, her pace quickening slightly. "Stop fighting it, Daniel." Her lips brushed his earlobe. "Let me show you how."

Chapter 8

The air in the garage tasted like stale carpet, sweat, and ozone from the humming lights. Sarah’s ragged breaths were the loudest sound besides the persistent buzz of the camera. Evelyn’s command, sharp as shattered glass, sliced through it all. 'Enough with the teasing—let’s make this unforgettable.'

Before Sarah could even register the words fully, Evelyn moved. She seized Daniel’s limp hand, the one still hovering near Sarah’s hip, slick with her wetness. With terrifying efficiency, she lifted it and pressed his palm flat against the base of Sarah’s throat. Her bony fingers clamped over Daniel’s knuckles, forcing them into position. "Choke her," Evelyn hissed, her voice low and commanding, her breath hot against Daniel’s ear. "While George takes her from behind. Show her who she belongs to."

Sarah’s eyes flew wide, whites showing all around the pupils. Fear, pure and cold, shot through her, momentarily overriding the confused haze of arousal. She felt the sudden, unfamiliar pressure on her windpipe, Daniel’s fingers stiff and unyielding under Evelyn’s guidance. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp, her hands flying up instinctively to grasp at his wrist. But then George was there.

He stepped close behind her, his large, solid frame radiating heat. His hands settled heavily on her hips, pulling her back flush against him. She felt the thick, blunt pressure of his erection grind against the swell of her ass, a brutal reminder of what had filled her mouth and throat only moments before. His presence was a wall, trapping her between Daniel’s tentative, terrifying grip and his own undeniable power.

"Daniel..." Sarah choked out, the sound thin and strangled against his palm. Her gaze locked onto his, searching for the husband she knew – the devout man who prayed before meals, who blushed at off-color jokes. Instead, she saw a storm of confusion, resistance warring with a dark, burgeoning hunger. Evelyn’s influence, George’s sheer physicality, Sarah’s own exposed, trembling need – it was eroding him.

"Tighter, Daniel," George rumbled from behind Sarah, his voice a vibration she felt through her bones. He shifted his stance, the thick head of his cock finding her slick, swollen entrance with unerring accuracy. The raw memory of being stretched and filled by him made her inner muscles flutter involuntarily. "She needs to feel it. Needs to know." He didn’t push in yet. He waited, letting the threat build.

Evelyn stepped back towards the camera, watching through the viewfinder. "Yes, Daniel," she purred, her voice amplified slightly by the microphone. "Show her. Claim her. Right here. Right now. While Georgie reminds her what she’s really for." The red recording light glowed steadily, a malevolent eye.

Daniel’s fingers tensed. Just a fraction. Sarah’s breath hitched. Her fingers scrabbled weakly against his forearm. "D-Dan... please..." It was a whimper, laced with panic and something else – a desperate plea tangled with unwilling, shameful arousal. The pressure, the helplessness, the sheer taboo of her husband’s hand on her throat while another man waited to take her... it sent conflicting currents sizzling through her nerves.

"Look at him, Sarah," George commanded softly, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. He gave a small, deliberate roll of his hips, the thick crown pressing insistently against her slick folds but not breaching. "Look at your husband while he decides what to do with you."

Sarah’s terrified gaze snapped back to Daniel’s face. She saw the conflict raging – the ingrained piety screaming sin, the possessive fury ignited by watching George, the raw, untapped desire Evelyn was ruthlessly exploiting. His jaw clenched. His knuckles whitened under the harsh lights as he fought against Evelyn’s command and his own darkening impulses.

A low, desperate sound escaped George. "Fuck it, Daniel. Choke your goddamn wife."

Something snapped. A dam broke behind Daniel’s eyes. The resistance fractured. His fingers clenched down, properly this time, pressing firmly into the vulnerable sides of Sarah’s throat. Not enough to cut off her air completely, but enough to send a bolt of sharp fear and dizzying lightheadedness through her. Her gasp was a thin, choked wheeze.

"Yes!" Evelyn breathed, the camera whirring as it zoomed in on Daniel’s hand, Sarah’s straining neck. "Like that!"

George needed no further invitation. The instant Daniel’s grip tightened, he pushed. Hard.

Sarah’s cry was muffled, stolen by the pressure on her throat as George’s massive girth forced its way inside her, stretching her impossibly wide, deeper than Daniel ever could. The sudden, brutal invasion combined with the constriction made stars burst behind her eyes. She arched back against George, her body caught in a vice between his relentless penetration and Daniel’s controlling grip. Her fingernails dug into Daniel’s wrist, a silent plea or punishment, she didn't know.

Daniel watched, transfixed, as his wife’s face contorted. Her lips parted around a silent scream. The flush on her cheeks deepened. Tears welled and spilled over. He felt the frantic pulse of her carotid artery hammering against his thumb. And he felt the vibration of George’s deep groan rumble through Sarah’s body, pressed tight between them. She was trapped. Pinned. His.

He adjusted his grip, his thumb pressing more deliberately into the hollow above her collarbone, fascinated by the choked whimper it elicited. George began to move. Slow, powerful withdrawals followed by deep, grinding thrusts that pushed Sarah forward into Daniel’s hand with each forward drive. Sarah’s body jerked with every impact. Her eyes, wide and unfocused, remained locked on Daniel’s, reflecting his own escalating turmoil back at him.

"Harder," George grunted, his rhythm picking up speed, becoming less controlled. "Feel her take it, Daniel. Feel her shake while I fuck your wife." His large hands gripped Sarah’s hips like vices, lifting her slightly onto her toes to meet his thrusts with bruising force. The slick, rhythmic slap of skin on skin filled the garage, underscored by Sarah’s gasping, choked breaths and George’s rough grunts.

Evelyn circled them, capturing every angle: the obscene stretch of Sarah’s lips around George’s girth disappearing and reappearing; the white-knuckled intensity of Daniel’s grip on her throat; the tear tracks cutting through the flush on Sarah’s face; the predatory focus in George’s eyes. "Look at her, Daniel," Evelyn directed, her voice a sibilant whisper near the microphone. "See how beautiful she is? Utterly possessed. By you. By him. This is her truth. This ache. This surrender."

Sarah’s body was a live wire. The pressure on her throat, the overwhelming fullness stretching her core, the roughness of George’s handling, the sheer, shattering humiliation of being displayed this way – it fused into a terrifying crescendo of sensation. She felt another climax coiling, brutal and inevitable, deep in her belly. Her hips jerked erratically. A guttural, desperate moan vibrated against Daniel’s restricting palm.

"Feel that, Danny boy?" George rasped, pounding into her with relentless force, sweat dripping from his brow onto her back. "She’s gonna come again. While you choke her. While I own her cunt."

Daniel’s breath came fast and shallow. He saw the frantic flutter in Sarah’s throat under his hand. Saw the desperate, pleading look in her streaming eyes. Saw the way her inner muscles visibly clenched around George’s visible shaft with each deep stroke. The last vestige of his resistance crumbled into dust, replaced by a dark, possessive heat that mirrored George’s. His fingers tightened decisively, just as George slammed home with a particularly brutal thrust.

Sarah’s body went rigid. A silent scream tore through her, her back arching violently, her eyes rolling back. The orgasm detonated, wave after wave of shocking, almost painful intensity ripping through her, amplified by the lack of air and the unrelenting pressure inside and out. She convulsed, held upright only by the two men, her internal muscles spasming wildly around George’s invading thickness.

George roared, the sound primal. He buried himself to the hilt, his own release erupting in hot, pulsing jets deep within her clutching heat. His hips jerked erratically, grinding against her as he emptied himself.

Daniel watched it happen. Watched his wife shatter under his grip, impaled on another man. He felt the frantic pulse thrumming against his tightening fingers, saw the utter ruin on her face. And instead of horror, a fierce, dark satisfaction surged through him, hot and undeniable. It felt like power. Like possession. His grip didn’t loosen. It tightened further, a claiming.

Across the room, Evelyn lowered the camera just enough to meet Daniel’s gaze over Sarah’s trembling shoulder. Her smile was wide, triumphant, and utterly terrifying. The red light blinked on, capturing the moment Daniel’s eyes met hers – no longer conflicted, but burning with a dark, newly awakened hunger.

Chapter 9

The red light blinked. A tiny, insistent eye in the dimness of the garage studio. Sarah saw it reflected in the black gloss of the camera lens aimed at her, a pinprick of accusation. Or was it fascination? She couldn’t tell anymore. Her world had narrowed to sensation, thick and overwhelming.

Daniel’s cock filled her mouth, a blunt pressure against her tongue, muffling the choked sounds tearing from her throat. The taste of him, salt and skin, was familiar, yet rendered strange by the context. Behind her, George moved with a slow, deliberate power, each thrust deeper, stretching her impossibly, forcing her body to yield. He wasn’t rough, exactly. Just… inexorable. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady against the dual invasion. The sheer fullness was staggering, pushing her towards a precipice she both craved and feared.

"Look at her, Daniel," Evelyn’s voice drifted from somewhere near the humming camera, smooth as velvet over gravel. She wasn’t filming anymore? Or was she? The live feed monitor flickered, showing their tangled figures – Sarah’s wide, panicked eyes staring straight into the lens, Daniel’s flushed face screwed up with concentration and something darker, George’s broad back flexing. "See how beautifully she takes it. How perfect she is like this. Owned. Fulfilled."

Sarah tried to shake her head, a feeble denial. Fulfilled? This was sin. Degradation. The garage air, thick with old carpet dust and the sharp tang of sweat, felt heavy in her lungs. Her huge labia, slick and swollen, throbbed with every beat of her heart, aching with a desire that shamed her. George sighed, a soft rumble she felt vibrate through her spine. He shifted his angle slightly, and Sarah gasped around Daniel, her back arching involuntarily. A jolt of pure, electric sensation tore through her, obliterating thought for a second.

"Yesss," Evelyn breathed. "That’s the spot, isn’t it, Georgie? Found her secret button." A low chuckle. "Now give it to her. Harder."

George obeyed. The slow, deep strokes became sharper, more demanding. Sarah cried out, the sound swallowed by Daniel. Her hands, which had been fluttering uselessly against Daniel’s thighs, found purchase, her nails digging in. He grunted, his own hips jerking forward reflexively, pushing himself deeper down her throat, triggering a gag reflex she fought desperately to suppress. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the red light, the monitor, everything except the raw, consuming feeling of being utterly claimed.

Daniel’s gaze, when she managed to focus through the tears, was locked on the monitor. Watching himself. Watching her. Seeing the way her body convulsed around George, the way her mouth stretched around him. His expression wasn’t disgust anymore. It was hunger. A possessive, almost feral intensity Sarah had never seen in her devout husband. He pulled back slightly, letting her gasp for air, saliva slicking her chin.

"You like watching?" Evelyn murmured, stepping closer now, just outside Sarah’s peripheral vision. Her perfume, something rich and spicy, cut through the musk. "Seeing your sweet wife take another man like she was made for it? Seeing how much more she can take?"

Daniel didn’t answer. His breathing was ragged. He looked down at Sarah, her lips swollen, her eyes pleading and dazed. He traced a thumb over her cheekbone, smearing a tear. The touch was surprisingly tender, incongruous against the brutal rhythm George was setting behind her. Sarah’s body was betraying her completely now, rocking back onto George’s thick cock, meeting his thrusts while her hips pushed weakly against Daniel’s thighs, seeking friction she couldn’t articulate.

"Touch her, Daniel," Evelyn commanded softly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that carried perfectly in the charged silence. "While George fills her up, make her come on his cock. Show her husband knows best."

Daniel hesitated, his hand hovering near Sarah’s stomach, trembling slightly. His eyes flickered with a storm of doubt and rising, undeniable arousal. The screen beside them pulsed with the image of his hesitation, magnifying it. George, sensing the shift, slowed his movements, a low hum of amusement vibrating against Sarah’s back. He seemed content to wait, to watch the young man unravel.

"Go on," Evelyn urged, a hint of sharpness entering her tone. "She’s burning up for it. Can’t you feel it? Or are you afraid?" She paused, letting the challenge hang. "Afraid she might like it too much? Might prefer it?"

That did it. A muscle jumped in Daniel’s jaw. His gaze hardened, shedding the last vestiges of indecision. His hand slid down, past the trembling curve of Sarah’s belly, through the wet tangle of curls. His fingers found her swollen, sensitive clit, slick with her arousal and George’s leaking precum. He didn’t fumble. He pressed. Hard. Circled. Expertly.

Sarah screamed. Or tried to. It came out as a shattered, guttural sob. The combined assault was devastating. George’s relentless invasion deep inside, stretching her impossibly, and Daniel’s fingers working her clit with a sudden, ruthless precision. Pleasure detonated through her, sharp and blinding, a white-hot supernova that erased guilt, erased thought, erased everything except the raw, convulsive release tearing through her body. Her internal muscles clenched violently around George, her back arched like a drawn bow, and her hips bucked wildly against Daniel’s relentless hand. Her huge labia pulsed against his touch, slick and demanding.

George groaned, a deep, satisfied sound that seemed to come from his bones. He pressed his forehead against her sweat-slicked back, his own rhythm faltering as her contractions pulled him towards his own climax. "Christ," he muttered, the word thick and unfamiliar on his lips.

Daniel watched, mesmerized, as Sarah shattered. He didn’t stop his fingers, drawing out the tremors, prolonging the agony-ecstasy etched onto her face. He glanced at the screen again, seeing the wild abandon, the utter surrender he’d wrought. A flush spread across his chest. His own cock, still slick from her mouth, pulsed heavily against his stomach.

Evelyn sighed, a sound of pure contentment. She stepped back towards the camera, adjusting the lens with a soft click. "Beautiful. Just… fucking beautiful." She gave a low laugh. "Now, George, finish it. Give her what she’s begging for. Fill her up proper."

George needed no further encouragement. He dropped his hands from Sarah’s hips, wrapping one powerful arm around her waist, pinning her against him. The other hand tangled roughly in her hair, pulling her head back against his shoulder. He drove into her with a final, brutal series of thrusts, burying himself to the hilt. Sarah felt the hot, thick pulse deep inside her as he came, a guttural groan tearing from his throat against her ear. The sensation, the sheer violation of it, sent another, smaller shockwave through her oversensitized flesh.

Daniel’s fingers stilled on her clit as he watched George finish. His own arousal was painfully obvious, but he seemed frozen, transfixed by the sight of his wife held captive by the older man’s release. The monitor showed the intimate detail: George’s grip in Sarah’s hair, the sweat-drenched line of his back, the way Sarah’s eyes fluttered closed, her lips parted on a silent gasp as she felt him spilling inside her.

The garage fell heavy with the sounds of ragged breathing, the hum of equipment, and the faint, rhythmic ticking from some unseen pipe. Evelyn lowered the camera, the red light finally winking out. She surveyed the scene: Sarah slumped against George, trembling and utterly spent, George slowly softening inside her, his breath warm on her neck, Daniel standing rigidly beside them, his hand still resting on Sarah’s thigh, his expression unreadable.

"Well," Evelyn said, breaking the silence, her voice bright and practical, cutting through the post-coital haze like a knife. "That’s a wrap for that angle. Someone grab Sarah a towel, she’s made quite the mess." She paused, her sharp eyes lingering on Daniel’s strained face. "Daniel, darling, you still look… pent up. Don’t worry. We’re far from done tonight. Sarah needs to learn how to thank George properly." A slow, knowing smile spread across her face. "With her mouth. While you watch. Think you can handle that?"

Daniel didn’t move. He stared at Evelyn, then down at Sarah, limp and glistening against George’s chest. He looked at his own hand, still damp from her. Then his gaze shifted back to the now-dark monitor screen, reflecting only the dim, messy aftermath. His throat worked. He didn’t say no.