Chapter 1

After my divorce I needed to move well away from my ex-wife, so I took the money I received after she bought out my share of the apartment and moved north, where I found a large 3-story Victorian terraced house for less than the money I got from 50% of the apartment we shared in London.

I decided the attic room on the top floor would be my writing room. I set up my teak, double pedestal Edwardian desk in front of the big attic window.

I was hoping the view across the hills in the distance would be inspiring.

That view turned out to be way more inspiring than I could have dreamed.

The first order of business though, was decorating.

The previous owner had been elderly and neglected the place. They’d also been a heavy smoker, so the walls and ceilings were yellowed and sticky from nicotine.

I washed all the walls and ceilings with sugar soap. Hard work, but it was satisfying to watch the yellow surfaces turning white.

Next, I ripped out the carpets, as I simply couldn’t get rid of the smell of the cigarette smoke and cat piss.

With the carpets up, I decided I liked the idea of bare wood floors, so I hired a floor sander and blitzed every room in the house, right up to the attic.

A week later the beauty of the oak boards was revealed.

Lastly, I painted the walls, each room a different colour, and each room had a contrasting feature wall. My bedroom was teal with a bold purple wall at the head of the bed. My office was sand with red. The kitchen will be yellow and blue once I’ve had the new kitchen units fitted.

With the house complete, I bought a stack of Muji exercise books, a fresh bottle of Waterman Serenity Blue ink and headed up to my new office.

With the first pad open, and my Waterman uncapped I sat and thought and...

Nothing.

I looked out of my big window, the sky was clear and blue, the trees in the distance stirred in the gentle breeze.

Still nothing.

I opened the window a little, maybe the sound of the birds would help.

No birds, but I heard laughter below.

As I looked down, I saw a couple of kids in the garden of the house that backed onto mine. They were lying on the grass, chatting and listening to music.

A boy and a girl, the boy was wearing shorts, the girl was wearing a bikini. I tried to estimate their ages, early teens I’d say, not more than 16.

I capped my pen, closed the book, and went down to make coffee.

While I waited for the coffee to brew, I looked out at my garden. I’d put a lot of work into the house, but I’d neglected the garden.

I’d never had a garden before, always living in apartments or houses with a yard at the back rather than a garden.

I looked at the overgrown lawn and dying plants and bushes. I was at a loss; I had no real idea of how to go about making a garden.

The garden behind looked well-tended.

I poured a mug of coffee, opened the back door, and headed through the knee-high grass to the fence at the bottom of garden.

“Excuse me,” I called through a gap in the fence, “I’m Jim, your new neighbour.”

The girl stood and moved closer to the fence, “hey Jim, we wondered who’d bought the house, it’s been a while since Mr Simms died. I walked past the other day; I love the colours in your lounge.”

“Thanks, I’m glad you like what I’ve done. I was just looking at your garden, it’s very nice.”

The girl peered through a gap in the fence, “mmm, you’re going for the back to nature look I see,” she said, grinning.

“That’s because I don’t know where to start.”

“Well, I’d start by taming the grass. Once that’s done, you’ll be able to see what else needs doing.”

I took a sip of my coffee and looked around. It was a decent sized space, about 30 feet wide and 100 feet long, somewhere I could relax in the evenings.

“We could help,” the girl offered, “I’m kind of bored just lying here anyway, hey, Zac, off your arse, we’ve got work to do.”

The girl moved away from the fence and dragged her brother to his feet. A moment later I heard a creaking sound and the kids appeared through my shed door.

“Hey Jim,” the girl said brightly as she stepped up to shake my hand, “I’m Willow, this is my twin brother, Zac.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you both,” I replied.

And I was, because Willow was a beauty. I’d peg her at 15 or 16; she was tall, blonde. tanned, slim with full, firm breasts. Zac was also tall and tanned, he had a decent 6-pack going on as well.

“I’ve just made a pot of coffee; do you want a mug while we talk about the garden?”

“Do you have anything cold?” Willow asked, Zac was clearly the strong silent type, I’d not heard him speak so far.

“I’ve some Coke in the fridge, it’s not diet though.”

“As long as it’s cold, I don’t care.”

We walked back through the long grass, Willow stepped into the kitchen, wiping her feet carefully on the mat. I like this girl, very respectful.

“Mmm, you’ve not decorated in here yet,” she said as I handed them both a can.

“Not a lot of point, I’m going to have a new kitchen fitted soon, I’ll decorate after this one’s been ripped out.”

“Ahh, smart move,” Willow replied, nodding. “Can I look round the house?”

“Of course you can.”

Willow grasped Zac’s hand as she left the room; interesting.

I followed behind, watching Willow’s arse as she walked was a mesmerising sight.

“You don’t have much furniture,” Willow mentioned as we descended from the upper floors.

“That’s because I left London with a couple of suitcases of clothes, my desk and laptop, she kept everything else.”

“Ahh, that’s sad. Still, it means you can make this house your own. There’s a great charity furniture store on the road out of town, I love exploring there, we could go one day, I could help you choose stuff.”

“That would be great. Do they deliver, my car isn’t really suitable for carrying furniture.”

“Which is your car?” Willow asked as she moved back to the lounge to look out on the street.

“The Mini over there,” I replied, pointing across the road.

“The yellow Mini is yours? I love that car!”

“So do I, it’s a lot of fun to drive.”

I went back to the kitchen, the kids followed. Pouring myself another coffee, I stood by the window looking forlornly at my overgrown garden.

“There’s an old lawnmower in the shed,” Zac said, making me jump a little, it’s the first time he’d spoken, “there’s some other tools in there as well. They’ll probably need some oiling, and the blades on the lawnmower will need sharpening. There’s some oil and a whetstone in my dad’s garage, I’ll nip over and get them.

“You’ll probably want to buy a new lawnmower, and a strimmer for along the path, there is a path under there somewhere,” he added, smiling, “but we’ll use what you’ve got to get the bulk cleared.”

Zac finished his can of coke and disappeared into my shed.

“Is there a backdoor out of my shed?” I asked Willow.

“Ahh, no. There’s a loose panel in the back wall, it swings out of the way, we used to use it to collect our lost balls, as Mr Simm refused to throw them back over the fence. We’ll fix the shed now though, as I bet you won’t be grumpy and keep our balls.”

I laughed at Willow’s reply, “no need to fix it,” I told her, “So you’ve a short cut to come through any time you like.”

“You mean you don’t mind us coming round?”

“Not at all. When I’ve got this garden fixed it’ll be a great place for drinks and a chat.”

Willow looked like she was about to hug me, she stopped when the shed door swung open and Zac emerged, dragging out an old rotary lawnmower, with a selection of tools under one arm.

We put down our drinks and dashed out to help.

Willow grabbed the tools; Zac upended the lawnmower.

“It’s old, I saw one of these on an antiques show on TV,” he laughed, “but I reckon we can fix it up.”

“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” I admitted.

“Our dad wouldn’t throw anything out,” Willow said, “Zac and I spent a lot of time watching him fix stuff when we were younger.”

“It’s in good shape, we just need to oil the gears, and sharpen the blades. It’s got a decent heavy roller on the back as well. You might not need to buy a new one if you don’t mind the hard work of pushing a manual mower.”

Willow picked up the can of spray oil and set about cleaning and lubricating various sets of shears, pruners and other tools I had no names for.

Meanwhile, Zac knelt before the lawnmower and started to sharpen the blades with the whetstone.

I brought more cans of coke.

Soon, Willow picked up a set of shears and started to trim some bushes along the sides of the garden. Before she’d done one side, Zac flipped the mower the right way up and gave it an experimental push. The blades turned nicely.

“This grass is way too long to cut with a mower,” he told me, “We need to strim it first. There’s no strimmer in the shed though. I’d borrow ours, but Mr Parker at number 40 is using it today.”

“I may as well buy one,” I replied, “if you show me what I need.”

“Willow, why don’t you go to the DIY store with Jim, I’ll take over with the pruning. Get a rake as well, and a few big garden waste sacks.”

Willow gave Zac her shears, “I’ll just nip home for a t-shirt, we don’t want to upset the old men in the shop with my bikini.”

Willow dashed home via my shed.

“She once got told off by the store manager,” Zac explained, “I think she was distracting the staff.”

“I can see how that would happen,” I replied.

“Yeah, she’s very pretty,” Zac said, without a hint of self-consciousness. I found this odd, most boys would never admit their sister was pretty.

This pair intrigued me.

Willow soon returned, she was now wearing a white Billie Eilish t-shirt, denim shorts and a pair of black Vans on her feet.

Zac gave her a few pointers for what to look for, then Willow took my hand as she skipped past, back to the house.

We’d only spoken for the first time a couple of hours ago, now she’s holding my hand.

This pair intrigued me, a lot.

In the big DIY store, Willow looked up at the signs hanging from the ceiling, “I always get lost in here,” she whispered.

Willow collected one of the flatbed trolleys and we set off towards the top left corner, which promised to hold the garden tools.

“Zac reckons he’s fixed your lawnmower,” she told me, “But if he hasn’t, he thinks you need something like this,” she added, slapping a big box.

I looked at the mower on the box, it looked similar to mine, but there was a small engine on the top, that should make the job easier, I thought.

Willow moved on, “Zac is so clever,” she mused, “he said that normally you’d be fine with one of these cordless strimmers, it’s got a big battery and would last about 20 minutes he reckoned, but that’s not enough to tackle your jungle. So, we’ll have to buy an electric one and a long extension lead, and he said we have to buy something called an RCD, it plugs into the wall, then we plug the trimmer into the RCD. He said that would cut the power immediately if we accidentally strim the mains cable.”

“Ahh, very sensible.”

A few moments later Willow had chosen a suitable strimmer, a pair of safety goggles, some gardening gloves, a 50-metre extension lead on a big drum, and an RCD plug.

“OK, we need to go to the garden centre bit now, for a rake, we can look at plants while we’re there.”

We spent about 20 minutes browsing the garden centre, Willow used her phone to photograph all the plants she liked and took notes about placement ideas.

At the far end of the garden centre, as we looked at some large ceramic planters, she suddenly turned to face me, she looked deep into my eyes, “we like you,” she said quickly as she wrapped her arms around me. Bringing her lips to mine, she kissed me.

I was shocked, so shocked it took me a moment or two to respond, when I did, Willow kept the kiss going until we heard footsteps in the next aisle.

We separated quickly, “mmm, that was nice,” Willow whispered, licking her lips as we walked back to where we’d left the trolley.

Amazingly, considering the daze I was in after that kiss, I remembered we needed a rake and chose one at random from the selection.

It was a bit of a 3D jigsaw fitting everything in the car, even with the back seats down, but we managed.

I’d spotted a supermarket on the drive to the DIY store, so I pulled in on the way back.

“To thank you for your help and company, I think I’ll cook you both dinner. What do you fancy?”

“Oh, that’s nice, I dunno what I fancy though, Zac’s the foodie, I’ll ask him.”

Willow pulled out her phone and fired off a rapid message as we walked into the store.

A moment later her phone pinged a few times as a series of messages came back.

“Oh, Zac says mum has just been round to tell him she’s got a meeting in Liverpool tomorrow, so she’s heading over tonight. We’re 15 though, she trusts us to not burn the house down or anything.”

“Where’s your dad, you mentioned him before.”

“Mmm ... he’s ... he’s elsewhere.”

“Ahh, sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

Willow squeezed my hand, “it’s OK, you weren’t to know,” she replied a little more brightly, before looking at her phone again, “Zac says anything chicken would be great.”

So, chicken it is then.

Searching for inspiration in the chicken cabinets I decided to make Hunters Chicken, chicken wrapped in bacon with a barbecue sauce, sprinkled with grated cheese. Not even remotely healthy, but super tasty.

I added a tub of ice cream and a couple of bottles of merlot to the basket and we were done.

Back home, Zac had been working hard, the bushes down both sides were trimmed right back, and there was now a big pile of branches at the bottom of the garden.

“Oh wow, it’s looking so much better already,” I told him, “Let me get you a beer ... are you allowed beer?”

“Mum’s not back until Thursday,” Willow said, “I think Zac can have a beer.”

“Thursday,” I replied, “today’s Monday, that’s a long meeting.”

“It’s more of a conference,” Zac told me, “Lots of meetings over a few days. Her colleague was supposed to go, but her daughter is poorly, so mum offered to go.”

“Will you be OK on your own for a few days?” I asked.

Willow sidled up to me, putting her arm around my waist, she rested her head on my shoulder, “we are now...”

Like I said, these kids intrigued me.

Zac unboxed the strimmer and skimmed the instructions, “looks good sis, this will do the job.”

He unwound the extension, plugged it into the RCD, donned the goggles and set to work.

As the grass cuttings gathered around his feet, Willow carefully raked them together, pulling them into a big pile in the corner. As the pile grew, she started to scoop the grass into one of the big garden waste sacks I’d bought. These sacks are biodegradable, so the grass will still rot down.

As they worked, I started on dinner. Once the chicken, bacon and sauce were in the oven I looked up, through the window I saw Willow’s bare back as she bent over to scoop up some grass. At first, I thought she’d just removed her t-shirt, then she stood, and I saw her whole back.

Shit, I had a topless 15-year-old in the garden.

Thank fuck the fences and bushes either side mean the garden isn’t easily overlooked.

I turned away from the window, willing myself to stop thinking about the possibility of seeing Willow’s breasts.

To take my mind off the twins, I started cutting potatoes to make chips. I’d bought a couple of blocks of beef dripping in the supermarket, the absolute best medium for cooking chips.

I heard chatter outside, hoping none of my neighbours had found a way to spy, I looked up nervously. Willow was talking to Zac, she was still topless, neither of them seemed concerned about this.

I tore my eyes away from Willow’s back, the lawn was much tidier, the grass now just reaching over Willow’s toes.

Discussion over, Willow unplugged the strimmer from the extension reel, she picked up the reel and started winding the cable in, walking backwards towards the house as she moved.

The dripping was fully melted, so I got back to work, dropping a single chip into the pan, it bubbled nicely, so I carefully dropped half the chips into the pan. I was going to double cook them, half cooking them at about 140°C, then later at 180°C.

“Hey Jim, the food smells great!”

I looked up and let out an involuntary gasp.

Willow was in the doorway.

She was still topless, and, oh shit, she was simply perfect.

“Is everything OK,” she asked.

“Everything is perfect,” I managed, “it’s just ... I don’t normally have half naked teenage girls in the kitchen, you know.”

“Well, that’s about to change,” she answered brightly as she unplugged the extension lead and RCD. “The shed is tatty, but it’s dry, so it’s OK to store the strimmer and stuff in there. Zac says he’s going to mow the lawn with the mower tomorrow, so we’ll pop back home for a shower. Err, do we have time to pop home for a shower?”

“The food will be about 30 minutes, is that long enough?”

“Mmm, maybe Zac can shower at home, I’ll shower here. That will save time, I’ll ask him to bring me some clean clothes.”

She nipped out, whispered something to Zac. When she returned, she kissed me quickly before running upstairs for a shower.

When both lots of chips had been cooked once, I placed them on a mesh tray to rest and took the chip pan off the heat.

Ahh, I thought, there’s only my towel out, so I dashed upstairs to grab Willow a fresh one from the cupboard. I knocked on the bathroom door.

“Come in!” Willow cried, “your shower is great! So powerful, it’s amazing!”

I averted my eyes as I carried a towel in.

“What are you doing?” she laughed, “you’ve already seen my boobs, you can look at them any time you like.”

“Mmm, it’s just, you’re only 15, I really shouldn’t be looking.”

“But I don’t mind, I love my boobs, they’re the best boobs in school, I’m so proud of them, I let Zac look as well.”

Willow pressed her wondrously full breasts against the shower screen, writhing and licking the glass.

As I stepped closer, she turned, pressing her bottom against the glass.

Oh my god, what an arse this girl has.

I was about to step right up to the shower when my kitchen timer sounded.

Shit.

“Dinner will be 15 minutes,” I told her, hopefully I didn’t sound as dejected as I felt just then.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Willow replied as she started washing her hair, “I’m starving.”

She was just flirting with me, flaunting her breasts a moment ago, now she’s calmly washing her hair and thinking about food.

Is she just teasing me, toying with my emotions.

Back in the kitchen, I turned the gas on under the chip pan and popped a bag of mixed veg in the microwave.

I looked up as I heard the shed squeak, Zac returning, he called me over.

“Hey Jim, I’ve got some garden chairs, they won’t fit through the shed. Do you mind catching them if I toss them over the fence.”

A minute later I had three plastic chairs lined up on my almost lawn.

“I thought, now your grass is shorter and neater, we could sit out in the garden for a bit later. I’ve brought a Bluetooth speaker, so Willow can torture you with her music.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I laughed as I dashed back in the kitchen to cook the chips.

Zac had a small backpack, he headed for the stairs, “fresh clothes for her ladyship,” he told me as he passed through.

I put cutlery and glasses out on the kitchen table as I waited for the twins to reappear.

My breath caught in my throat when they did reappear, Willow was an absolute vision. Somehow, she’d looked in my head, checked my definition of perfection and was now cosplaying it.

For reference, my definition of perfection is casual beauty. Not in your face, not flaunting; just someone who knows they’re gorgeous and isn’t afraid to let you know they know.

Willow had tied her shoulder length blonde hair into a pair of pig tails, she was make-up free. Zac had brought her a very tight Hollister crop top, as she turned, I could see the swell of her breasts on either side of her body ... yes, she knew exactly what she was doing to me, and so did Zac, he was smiling at my reaction, pleased with his clothing choices.

Below the crop top she was wearing a pair of denim shorts that were little bigger than panties.

How was I supposed to plate up a meal with Willow in the room looking like that?

Zac came to the rescue, offering to help. I passed him a pair of oven gloves and pointed him towards the oven.

“Like I said, she is very pretty,” he told me as he set the oven dish on the worktop.

“She really is,” I replied.

Willow opened and poured the merlot when we were all seated, she raised her glass, “to a new home, and new friends.”

“New home, and new friends,” Zac and I echoed.

“Have you had a housewarming party yet?” she asked before cutting into her chicken.

“No, I haven’t, I don’t know anyone up here, so I can’t really have a party.”

“You know us now, so we’ll call this your housewarming party.”

“Yes! That’s a great idea.”

“Why did you choose to live here?” Zac asked as we relaxed in the garden later.

“That’s a good question. I was born not too far from here, about 20 miles in that direction,” I replied, pointing back towards my house.

“You were born in the sea! Are you a mermaid?” Willow asked, giggling.

“OK, 20 miles in that direction,” I corrected myself, pointing towards their house, “anyway, I’m from the area, but I moved to London after I graduated. I got a job in a bank, got married, made a lot of money that I mostly wasted on accommodation and bad habits. Then I got divorced and decided to find somewhere I could buy outright for cash. This area, and this house, fit the bill.”

“And then you met us!” Willow exclaimed.

“Indeed, I did, the highlight of the year, definitely.”

“So, what do you plan to do now?” Zac asked, clearly the interrogator for the evening.

“I’ve no firm plans. I’ve enough money saved from my divorce and redundancy to not have to worry for a year or two. During that time, I’m going to try writing a book. I used to write a lot of stories when I was younger, so I’m hoping to get the creative juices flowing again.”

“Oooh, what kind of story are you going to write?”

“I’m thinking about a triller or something.”

“With a sexy heroine like me. Or maybe a handsome hero like Zac?”

“Something like that,” I offered, smiling.

“Well, if you need ideas, I’m your girl. I read a lot of books. Zac’s more of a PlayStation guy though, so he’ll be no help.”

“But Zac fixed my mower, so he’s already been a great help to me,” I replied as I poured the last of the wine in his glass.

“Oh, is that all the wine gone?” he asked.

“I’m afraid so, where’s the nearest Spar?”

“No need for a Spar,” Zac replied, “I’ll go and grab a couple of bottles from home.”

As he rushed off to their house, Willow brought her chair closer, so her knee was touching mine.

“Don’t you think Zac is handsome?” she asked, “I’ve seen you looking at him.”

“He’s a good-looking lad,” I allowed.

“I’m glad you can see that. So, tell me about the former Mrs Jim.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Her name would be a good place to start.”

“She’s called Rowena...”

“Oh wow, Ivanhoe’s babe. Was she fair, timid and gentle?”

So, Willow is well read.

“Ahh, no. She was blonde...”

“Like me!”

“Yes, like you. But timid? Definitely not. She knew what she wanted and made sure she got it. What she wanted at the end was someone other than me.”

“Aww, that’s sad. Just so you know, I’m fully prepared to hate her new man.”

“Thank you, that means a lot.”

Willow placed a hand on my lap, “Zac and me ... we don’t have a lot of friends. I think people find our closeness uncomfortable. Do we weird you out, Jim?”

“You intrigue me, but you don’t weird me out.”

Willow ran her hand over my knee, getting closer to my crotch with each stroke, she didn’t even stop when Zac returned with the wine.

“It’s got a screw top,” he told us, ignoring his sister’s hand on my lap, “so I don’t even need a corkscrew.”

He resumed his seat and poured three glasses.

“I was just about to tell Jim why we’re so close,” she told Zac before taking a sip, “mmm, I think I prefer Jim’s wine.”

“Yeah, but this one is free.”

“I’ll replace it tomorrow,” I told Zac.

“No need, there’s loads more, I don’t think she’ll miss these two.”

“Fair enough, but if she asks you, I’ll replace them. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

Willow gave my leg a gentle squeeze, “So, yeah. Me and Zac, we had to grow up fast. You see, mum and dad were away a lot. They belonged to this commune before we came along, they were like 35 or something when we were born, aging hippies our auntie called them. So, once we were in primary school, they resumed their commune work and left us alone in the evenings, then for a few days at a time when I was tall enough to reach the cooker.”

“About 3 years ago, mum returned alone,” Zac continued. “She doesn’t talk about him, and she doesn’t go away much anymore.”

“So, from when we were about 5 or 6, to a couple of years ago, we were alone a lot,” Willow resumed, “we learnt to cook, to wash our clothes, we walked to school ourselves, and we played together, at school, and at home. Especially at home, if you know what I mean.”

“I ... I don’t think I do,” I replied.

Willow motioned for Zac to move closer. I expected him to sit the other side of his sister, but he moved next to me, and placed his hand on my other leg.

“Girls, you see, we mature earlier than boys. I taught Zac how to make me happy. When Zac matured, I returned the favour. I could make him happy, but not truly happy, you know. I could make him cum with my hands or mouth, he ejaculated, but he didn’t experience orgasms the way I did. Also, he couldn’t do the thing I really needed him to ... do you know what I mean?”

“Again, I’m not sure I do.”

“He couldn’t fuck me, Jim. Every time he tried; he just went soft. It’s funny, we hear the rumours around school. Everyone, including some of the teachers, think we’re fucking each other, but we’re still virgins.”

“So,” Zac continued, bringing his hand to the top of my thigh, his fingers were touching Willow’s, their hands making a V below my, by now, very hard cock, “we’d very much like to fix that, if you’re willing.”

Mmm, for the last hour I’d had a fantasy running through my mind. That fantasy involved Zac and me fucking Willow.

Now it seemed the tables had turned, and the twins would be fucking me.

This unlocked a very old fantasy, a very, very old fantasy that predated my marriage.

At college, like a lot of people, I wasn’t totally sure of my sexuality. I dated girls and boys, but I never got past the kissing stage with boys. Once I’d got a girl into bed, the boys were forgotten.

Until today.

That door was about to be opened once more.

Willow stood, she took my hand, Zac took my other.

Numbly, I walked with the twins back into my house and up the stairs to my bedroom.

Willow knelt before me, she unfastened my belt and trousers, they dropped to the ground, she helped me step out of them before she removed my boxers.

I was waiting for her to take me in her mouth, but she moved back. Zac slipped into her place, he looked up into my eyes as he opened his mouth and took my engorged cock between his lips.

I let out a sigh as this wonderful boy worked my head with his mouth.

Willow was running her fingers through Zac’s short, blonde hair.

“This is his first time,” she whispered, “we’ve been looking for someone for a while. We couldn’t approach anyone from school, obviously, and nobody round here seemed right. Then you came along. We’ve been watching you for a while, Zac was attracted to you straight away, and luckily, I think you’re sexy as well.

“We didn’t want to rush you, so we waited for you to talk to us.”

I tried to speak, but Zac had robbed me of my voice, if this was his first blow job, he’d clearly been doing a lot of research.

“He learnt off me,” Willow said, as if she’d read my mind, “I filmed myself blowing him, I’ve a lot of films on my phone, I’ll show you some later.”

My vision started to blur as I neared my orgasm, Willow leant in close to her brother, kissing his ear as she whispered, “do you want him to cum in your mouth? It’s a rush when it happens, but it’s messy.”

I groaned as Zac pulled away, “maybe another time,” he whispered.

Willow pulled his lips to hers; she kissed him hard before she slipped into his place and took me in her mouth. It was immediately obvious she’d done this before, a lot, as she brought me back to the edge in seconds, then the minx kept me there, delaying my ejaculation as long as she could, enjoying herself as she kissed my head, licked me, took me deep before pulling back and letting me hang.