Their Wonder Years: Season 1: Fall 1998
Copyright© 2025 by Tantrayaan
56: Euphoria
Coming of Age Sex Story: 56: Euphoria - Bharath always thought going to America would mean fast love, wild parties, and maybe a stewardess or two. What he got instead? A busted duffel bag, a crying baby on the plane, and dormmates he never thought could exist in real life. Thrown into the chaos of Georgia Tech’s freshman year, Bharath begins an unforgettable journey of awkward first crushes and culture shocks. A slow-burn, emotionally rich harem romance set in the nostalgic 90s - full of laughter, lust, and longing.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft mt/Fa Consensual Fiction Humor School Sharing Group Sex Harem Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory White Female Hispanic Female Indian Female
Sarah’s room looked like a bomb had gone off in a clothes store. Perfume bottles tipped over on the dresser, curling irons still faintly hissing, stockings dangling from the chair like lazy flags. The carpet was a battlefield of rejected skirts and tops.
Ayesha stood at the mirror in her sequined black crop top, the jewel at her navel sparkling with every nervous breath. The snug top pushed up her lush DDs, and her short skirt barely skimmed her thighs. Zara was beside her in a leather mini that clung to her hips, paired with a strappy tank that flashed sideboob whenever she adjusted it. Her chain belt glittered at her waist, drawing attention to her flat stomach. Both looked like they were dressed to commit sins, and both looked nervous as hell.
Behind them, on the bed, lay Sarah and Marisol in Bharath’s old t-shirts admiring the effort that their collective effort had put into getting the girls ready.
“Girl, if you yank that skirt one more time, it’s gonna climb back up just to spite you,” Sarah drawled, watching Zara tug again.
“Shut up,” Zara muttered, blushing. “I’m trying to find the perfect place where I’m not flashing the room but Bharath can see me anytime he wants to. I’m not wearing anything underneath - but I don’t want the whole world to know. I’m just nervous.”
“Oh, sweetheart, we do get it,” Marisol purred. “We feel like that every time we dress up for him. I just love the look on his face when he sees us at our sexiest. It never gets old.”
“Correction,” Sarah said. “I’m always at my sexiest. Even in these old t-shirts of his. Bharath loves me no matter what I wear - although he does prefer that I don’t wear anything around him.”
The girls giggled as Marisol smacked Sarah with a pillow. “Shut up bitch.”
“Yeah right. As if you’re not a slut for him. You’re his first, remember? I know all our secrets, remember? There is nothing you wouldn’t do for him.”
“Yeah that’s true,” said Marisol softly with a smile. “I will be whatever he wants me to be. Don’t worry so much, chicas. You know that he will love you even in a burlap sack. Looking like that though you will probably cause him to malfunction. You girls are looking fly as hell!”
Ayesha, steady but soft, asked, “We just ... we want to know. What he likes. We want him to have a night that he will never forget.”
That sobered the teasing. Sarah padded barefoot across the room, slid behind Zara, and looped her arms around her waist so their reflections lined up in the mirror.
“You wanna know what he likes?” Sarah murmured in her ear. “He likes this. Us. Together. The thing about Bharath is that he loves it when we are delirious with pleasure. When he’s with us his biggest pleasure or kink or yearning - whatever you want to call it - is to make sure that we are enjoying ourselves. Whether it is in bed or outside he just wants us to be happy all the time. Although in bed, he wants you to come until you can’t stand. He lives for us screaming, laughing, passing out from too many orgasms. That’s his thing.”
Marisol slipped behind Ayesha, hugging her from behind, sliding her hands under her top to cup her breasts. Ayesha gasped, her jewel glittering as her chest rose. “Like Sarah said, he lives for our pleasure,” Marisol whispered. “That’s why we do everything and anything he wants. Because at least that way we can feed his lust too. Otherwise the man wouldn’t care if he climaxed even once. Because he looks happiest when we lose it and we love it when we can make him lose it as well.”
Sarah nodded, gently rubbing her hands along Zara’s gorgeous midriff causing her to shiver and bite her lips. “Girl, that belly chain really makes your navel pop. We need to get those as well. After last night, we made him do what he did to you and we came hard. I think we have new kinks now.”
Marisol shivered, recalling how amazing Bharath’s hands and mouth felt on her navel. “Yeah, every damn thing feels so good with him. We just love everything he does with us. I haven’t found a single thing that I don’t want. Even when exploring me from behind. I can’t wait for him to not just use his fingers there anymore.”
Ayesha shuddered as Marisol squeezed her ass. “I’ve never done it there either. I’m glad. He will be my first and only.”
Marisol grinned slyly, dipping a finger into Ayesha causing her to gasp loudly, “Maybe that can be your kink baby, although with your body it’ll probably be like mine.”
Zara gasped as Sarah kept up with her exploration of her midriff, “What do you like most Sarah?”
Sarah pressed her lips to Zara’s ear making her tremble. “For me, it’s choking. I just live to choke on Bharath’s cock. I still haven’t been able to get all of him inside me yet, he’s just so thick, but I love it when it just fills my mouth while I gag on him. I love it even more when he holds me by hair and pushes me deeper on him.”
Sarah’s hand slid up Zara’s chest as she spoke, wrapping lightly around her throat, squeezing lightly, just resting there so Zara could feel the pulse jump under her skin. Zara gasped with pleasure.
“You like that baby? I knew I hadn’t experienced pleasure until his hands were on my throat like this, choking me while he kept slamming me until I saw stars, I felt like I could give him my life right there. And afterwards, when he gently kissed me all over and stroked my hair thanking me? I feel like I had been rebuilt.”
Zara almost climaxed as Sarah lightly choked her, she leaned back on Sarah and gasped, “I think I want to try that too. We saw that on Sacred Tuesday when we spied on you. You were lost to the world when he did that to you. I want to feel the same way. I feel like I can do anything for him. Will you teach me to take his thick cock in my mouth?”
“Of course baby,” cooed Sarah as she gently kissed her cheek. “I’ll even choke you if you want as he slams into you. After all, there are four of us for him to take care of now.”
Zara moaned and rubbed her thighs together as Sarah kissed her ears while she continued to choke her slightly.
Marisol kissed Ayesha’s temple as her hands kept exploring her breasts, reveling in the goosebumps she felt on Ayesha’s skin. “You love breast play don’t you? Just like me. My pet kink though is to get spanked by him. Hard. It makes me feel owned by him completely. He hates the word ‘own,’ but when his palm cracks across my ass, I feel like I’m his woman completely. Owned, claimed, and safe. It’s raw and brutal and holy.”
Marisol grinned at Ayesha, then lifted up her skirted ass and gave her a sharp smack that made Ayesha squeal. She leaned in, lips grazing her ear. “Like that chica ... you think you like that? Wait till Bharath gets his hands on you.”
Zara whimpered, thighs pressing together. Ayesha trembled, but she didn’t pull away from Marisol’s hands.
“And we never do him one-on-one,” Sarah added. “Not since I joined. He’s too much for one of us. Always together.”
“Always,” Marisol echoed. “Because we’re family. Not rivals. When he’s inside her, I’m hugging him from behind, whispering how gorgeous she looks. Then we switch. It’s not competition - it’s pride. He makes us proud of each other’s pleasure.”
Ayesha whispered, “That’s ... beautiful. I want you there when he’s fucking me. And Zara. And Sarah. And Mia. All of us together with our man. I told him that during the movie last night.”
Zara’s voice was hushed. “That’s ... so fucking hot. I remember Aish. He almost short circuited when you said that.”
Sarah chuckled. She slid her hands up under Zara’s tank, cupping her amazingly perky but bountiful C-cups. “And you ... You don’t need to worry about these beauties ... like ever. I don’t know why you even wear a bra. These are so amazing. So perky ... just like Mia and me. He’s going to lose his mind when he sees them.”
Marisol pinched Ayesha’s nipples, grinning as Ayesha arched. “And these? Mira, these are goddess tits. He’ll mark them daily. We never let him skip with ours. Mia especially loves it when he marks her. Watch, when she comes over tomorrow, she’ll count how many we have and then insist that he gives her more marks than all of us. We just love it when we see the love bites on us. Even if he is not physically there and he’s always there with me.”
“I want that,” Ayesha whispered.
“Me too,” Zara admitted.
Sarah tugged her tee off, baring pale DDs covered in love bites. Zara and Ayesha gasped in astonishment. “See? These are proof of his claim over us. We just love it when he marks us. We demand it. Every. Damn. Day.”
Marisol stripped hers too, her heavier golden-brown breasts equally marked. She guided Ayesha’s hands to cup them. “Feel them. Do you want yours to look the same?”
Ayesha touched reverently. Zara’s hands were guided to Sarah’s chest, squeezing softly, face burning. “Yes. I want him to mark every part of my breasts too,” they whimpered, tracing the marks on Sarah and Marisol with love.
The mirror showed four tangled girls now, half dressed, hands sliding under skirts and tops. Sarah dipped her hand under Zara’s leather, pressing her soaked slit. Zara gasped, knees buckling. Sarah smirked. “Already wet for him.”
Marisol slipped under Ayesha’s skirt too, brushing past her panties. Ayesha whimpered as Marisol pulled her fingers out glistening. “She’s worse. Dripping.”
Ayesha covered her face, laughing breathlessly. “Oh my god.”
“Don’t be shy,” Marisol whispered as she licked her fingers. “That’s perfect. That’s family. Mmm ... Ayesha, you taste so good! Here Sarah - taste her. Doesn’t she taste divine? Bharath is going to love eating her out.”
“Mmmm ... Yeah ... Zara ain’t half bad either. Taste her Mari,” Sarah added, holding her fingers up for Marisol to suck on. Ayesha and Zara moaned seeing Sarah and Marisol taste them. “Feels natural, doesn’t it? Us touching you. Because we’re his women - your sister wives. We’re going to be family from here on. His women - who will do anything for him.”
Ayesha peeked out, cheeks flushed but smiling. “It ... it does feel natural.”
Zara whispered, “Like I’ve always belonged here.”
Sarah kissed her jaw. “Because you do.”
For a moment the air pulsed with something bigger than lust. Then Sarah grinned. “Okay but Mari squeals louder than me when he spanks her.”
“Bullshit!” Marisol smacked her ass. “You sound like a dying parrot when he chokes you.”
Ayesha and Zara burst into giggles.
“Fine,” Sarah laughed. “We’re all loud. He loves it. You two better find your signature moans tonight.”
“Mine’s not gonna be a parrot,” Zara giggled.
“Bet it’s a squeak,” Sarah teased.
“Bet it’s a sob,” Marisol countered.
Ayesha shook her head, smiling wide. “Whatever it is, it’ll be for him and him alone.”
The laughter quieted, leaving heat and truth hanging.
Marisol smirked. “I hope you guys have as good a night with him as we did with him on Halloween. For Sarah and I, that’s our best night with him so far.”
Zara blinked. “Halloween? Even better than Sacred Tuesday? But you guys came like ten times each! We counted!”
Marisol laughed, hugging Ayesha close. “Oh mi amor, that’s par for course with Bharath. You both are in for a real treat with him tonight.”
Sarah’s eyes gleamed as she recalled that night. “I can never forget that night Mari. First we danced together on the dance floor, grinding against him, making out and getting him to grope us all over. He was so aroused with the two of us sandwiching him all night. Everyone stared at us, but we didn’t care. Our bodies are always only for him and his pleasure. But we wanted more. So, we found a dark passage near the exit. The music was still pounding and people sometimes walked past but we didn’t care. The number of times he took us that night. Standing, In the air with our legs around him, bent over against the wall ... uhhh ... he just destroyed us. He took us so hard and it was so hot. I think both of us squirted multiple times that night. For a while we worried about getting caught. Then we stopped caring.”
Marisol’s voice dropped to a husky whisper. “The danger made it hotter. Knowing someone could see. Hungry eyes glanced our way - men who wanted us but could never have us. That made us wild. Because we belonged only to him.”
Sarah smirked at the memory. “We came louder than the bass. And he just smiled, covering us with his body, making us safe even while we risked it.”
Ayesha whimpered, thighs pressed together. Zara was breathing hard.
“You two,” Sarah grinned, “you’ll love it. I can see it. You’re exhibitionists, aren’t you? You’ll be begging for him to take you where someone might hear.”
“I want that ... so bad!” Ayesha admitted, flushed.
“Me too,” Zara whispered, squirming against Sarah’s hand still pressed under her skirt.
Marisol kissed Ayesha’s neck. “Promise us. Let him take you like that tonight. Tease him and give yourselves to him completely. Let the world know he’s your man.”
Ayesha gasped, trembling. “I promise.”
Zara moaned as Sarah’s finger dipped into her. “Me too. Tonight.”
The older girls grinned, approving, their fingers rolling nipples, squeezing asses, dipping shallow into wet holes just enough to test.
“See how ready you are?” Sarah whispered. “Your bodies already belong to him.”
Marisol licked her finger clean, smirking. “And now you belong to us too.”
Ayesha shuddered, whispering, “Why does it feel so good, thinking about him with you? With us all?”
Sarah smiled. “Because that’s the point. Watching him rail Mari while he’s spanking her ass or squeezing and biting her huge tits makes me lose my mind. Hugging him from behind while he’s inside her? That’s when you feel it - the lust, the power, the love. You’ll see.”
Zara squealed and arched her back into Sarah as Sarah’s fingers dipped into her ass experimentally.
Marisol nodded. “It’s why we love watching him with Mia too. Her squeals, her shaking - we feed off it. It makes us hotter. He doesn’t care if he even finishes, but we make sure he does. Because he loves when we lick it off each other. Suck out creampies. Snowball. And baby, he tastes delicious.”
Ayesha moaned softly. Zara shivered, her breath ragged.
“I want that,” Zara whispered. “To taste him on her. To kiss him into you.”
“Me too,” Ayesha added, eyes dark. “All of it.”
Sarah and Marisol beamed. “And you will.”
The room went quiet again, except for their breathing. Then Zara blurted, “I ... I don’t want our first time to be at the club anymore.”
Ayesha nodded, steady now. “Me too ... I want to come back here. With you. Together. We want you hugging him from behind as he claims us. We want you to tell him how he should destroy us. That’s how it should be.”
For once, Sarah and Marisol were speechless. Then Sarah’s eyes shone, and she pulled Zara into a crushing hug. “Oh my god. You have no idea how much that means.”
Marisol wrapped her arms around Ayesha from behind, kissing her cheek. “You’re ours already. Our sisters. Our family. Tonight we’ll make it real. We’ll be waiting for you, my loves.”
Sarah hugged Zara tight again, eyes shining. “To us. To him. To forever and ever with our man in this family.”
Their voices overlapped, trembling but fierce: “Forever.”
The cab smelled faintly of stale cigarettes and pine air freshener, the little tree dangling from the mirror swaying with every bump on Peachtree. The driver, an older man with a baseball cap pulled low, didn’t look back- he couldn’t. A scratched Plexiglas barrier separated him from the backseat, the small cash slot taped with duct tape.
Bharath had never seen anything like it. In Chennai, taxis were open, noisy, alive with conversation. Here, it felt like a cage. He leaned forward a little, knocking his knuckles against the plastic. “Why is this here?”
Zara, pressed tight against his left side in her deep blue halter, laughed softly, her lips brushing his ear. “Because downtown Atlanta at night is not Chennai. Or Buckhead. There are places here even cops don’t drive into. Some neighborhoods? They’ll strip your car in minutes.”
Ayesha, tucked on his right, her short black skirt riding scandalously high, leaned forward to peer through the glass. “Cabbies get robbed. Shot. This barrier keeps them safe. You’ll see the streets near the club- half the buildings boarded up, half booming. It’s like two cities living on top of each other.”
Bharath nodded, curiosity in his eyes. “Back home, my father always warned me that America was dangerous. I thought he meant guns in schools. I didn’t expect ... this.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Zara said, her voice low and husky now. She guided his hand onto her bare thigh, then slid it upward until his fingertips brushed the hem of her skirt. “You’ll get used to a lot of things.”
His breath caught. She pressed his hand further, under the skirt, until he felt the warm, bare skin he hadn’t been expecting. No underwear. His heart thudded against his ribs.
Ayesha giggled, reaching down to grab his other hand. “Don’t leave me out.” She lifted his hand and pushed it beneath her crop top, guiding him straight to her breasts. His palm sank into the fullness of her curves, warm and pliant, her nipple hard against his thumb causing her to moan.
Bharath made a strangled sound, half gasp, half moan. “You ... you’re insane. Both of you.”
“We’re yours,” Ayesha corrected softly, pressing his fingers tighter around her breast. “And we’ve been waiting for you to touch us like this.”
Zara leaned in, her lips brushing his jaw. “Look at you. You can’t even breathe. And you haven’t seen what we’re wearing for you under the lights yet.”
He turned his head, met her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss. Her chain pressed cool against his chest as her tongue slid against his, and he groaned when Ayesha took the chance to nip at his earlobe. His hands flexed, one kneading Ayesha’s breast, the other sliding lower until Zara spread her thighs shamelessly for him.
The cab swayed with the road. Outside, neon blurred past. Inside, it was heat and sweat and the slick sound of breath.
Ayesha whispered, “Don’t be shy. Touch everything. We want you to know us before the music even starts.”
He obeyed. His fingers slipped between Zara’s thighs, finding her wet and ready. She gasped into his mouth, clutching his shirt in both fists. “Fuck ... Bharath ... I need you in me so bad!”
Ayesha giggled and ground her breast into his hand. “She’s already dripping for you.”
“So are you,” Zara shot back, breathless.
Ayesha lifted her skirt herself, baring the smooth line of her inner thigh. She caught his wrist and shoved his fingers down. “Feel me. Tell me I’m yours too.”
His hand slid over her, and she cried out softly, muffling it against his shoulder. She was just as wet, heat slicking his fingertips. His head spun. He had both of them spread for him, trembling under his hands, their perfume mixing with the leather of the taxi.
“God,” he whispered. “You’re breathtaking. Both of you.”
“We know,” Ayesha teased, her voice breaking on a moan as his fingers stroked her. “But say it again.”
“You’re ... you’re the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.” His voice cracked with sincerity. “And I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive this.”
Zara kissed his neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “You don’t survive it. You drown in it. You’re not so bad yourself mister. That haircut and this shirt just make me lose it. Aish we need to thank Camila and that guy Raul for this masterpiece.”
“You really like it so much?” asked Bharath wonderingly. “I’ve never really cared too much about this stuff. I never thought it mattered.”
“Oh jaanu ... You have no idea how gorgeous you look. That haircut frames your face so well and this t-shirt and jeans. Ungghhh ... you’re lucky you didn’t get jumped by any girl.”
“They better be worth it,” said Bharath grimly. “I spent 20 bucks for the haircut ... with tip ... can you imagine?! And the clothes were $120! That was highway robbery! No wonder these fashion houses make so much money. I could have bought 4 new games for that price!”
Zara and Ayesha snorted when they heard Bharath complain about the cost. “Oh ... jaanu ... get used to spending more because now that we know what you look like with good clothes you’re never going back to those hideous t-shirts, hoodies and jeans again! We still need to get you new shoes!”
“Really? But they are so comfortable! And this pair of sneakers is good for everything. Running, working out, walking ... I paid almost 1000 rupees for them back home! Why would I need anything more?”
Zara laughed and kissed her adorable boyfriend, “Ok baby ... we won’t throw out your clothes. But you’re going to dress up for us like this again right?”
“If you like it ... sure,” he said blushing now.
Ayesha laughed, then gasped again as his fingers circled her clit. “Oh jaanu ... enough about clothes already. Keep doing what you’re doing now. Shit Z, he’s sooooo good already. Mari and Sarah weren’t lying. He knows exactly where to touch.”
Zara moaned as his other hand curled inside her, stroking just right. “He’s a savant. I can feel it. Nobody’s ever made me this close this fast. Oh jaanu ... I love that I’m never going to need another man in my life again.”
“Me neither,” Ayesha gasped, clinging to his arm. “Yours and only yours ... forever!”
He worked them both together, two hands, two rhythms, while their mouths took turns crashing into his. It was insane- half sex, half conversation, like the barrier gave them permission to lose their minds without shame.
Ayesha whimpered, grinding down on his hand. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Zara’s nails dug into his thigh as her hips bucked. “Oh my God, oh my God, I can’t...”
She shattered fast, sudden, like glass cracking under pressure. A wild cry tore into his mouth, her whole body jerking hard once, twice, then collapsing against him in a rush of heat and tremors.
He barely had time to hold her steady before Ayesha’s body took a different path - slower, trembling, her thighs clenching tight around his hand as if to trap him there. Her moans rose in broken waves, breath hitching, until she buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed out her release, shaking like she was unraveling from the inside out.
She cried out into his mouth as her body shook, climax ripping through her.
The taxi kept rolling. The driver hummed faintly to some radio station, oblivious.
Both girls slumped against him, gasping, hair sticking to their flushed faces. He started to pull his hands back, stunned at how responsive they were, but Zara caught his wrist and lifted his fingers to her mouth.
She sucked them clean with a greedy hum, tasting herself without hesitation. Then she pulled his hand free and pushed it toward Ayesha.
Ayesha’s lips parted, her tongue flicking out shyly at first ... then she closed her mouth around his fingers and moaned as if tasting Zara’s climax was its own kind of ecstasy.
They pulled back, eyes blazing. Zara smirked, “Everything Sarah and Mari do for you ... we’ll do too.”
Ayesha nodded, breathless but steady. “And more, if you want it. Anything, jaanu. We told you,” Ayesha panted, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “We’re yours.”
Zara was still trembling, her chain glittering against the low lights. She reached down and grabbed his hardness through his pants, squeezing firmly. “Now you.”
He groaned, head falling back. “No. That was only once so far. I still haven’t learned you guys yet. want you first. Both of you.”
“You already gave us first,” Ayesha teased, slipping her hand into his waistband. “Now let us give you something back.”
Her hand wrapped around him, slow and steady, while Zara leaned down and kissed him again, her other hand stroking his chest. Bharath leaned his head back and exhaled deeply, reveling in the sensation.
“He’s so thick Z. Can you imagine what it’s going to feel like inside you? How the hell does Sarah even fit the head of this monster in her mouth?”
“You’re going to pleasure till we pass out, aren’t you baby,” whimpered Zara as she kissed his jaw.
“I want you to feel so much pleasure that you’ll never even think of any other man again in your lives. You’re both mine. Only mine,” said Bharath determinedly. He hugged them both to him again and said confidently. “You are both going to lose your minds tonight.”
Ayesha and Zara whimpered looking at his resolute face. They recalled what he looked like when he was with the other girls. They knew that he could walk the talk. They continued to touch him, changing the subject so that they didn’t cancel their plans and head back home. Their voices were playful even as their hands worked him.
“How do you girls expect me to talk when you’re doing that to me?” moaned Bharath.
“You better get used to this jaan. This is the rest of your life from now on. Imagine when Mia joins us as well. She wants to catch up with Mari and Sarah. You’re never going to not have one or more of us with you. Even if you’re doing homework.”
“Facts. Get used to it. I’d say suck it up, but that’s what we’re there for.”
Ayesha giggled as Bharath rolled his eyes, “And you say my jokes are bad!” Then he groaned as Zara licked his shaft and looked up at him wickedly.
“Now answer me this. You said you don’t dance,” Zara murmured as she breathed into his neck.
“I don’t,” he admitted, hips twitching as both Zara and Ayesha stroked him.
“Good,” Ayesha said. “Eurodance doesn’t need talent. Just follow the beat. Move with us. We’ll make you look good.”
Zara nipped his ear. “And when you’re too stiff, just grab us like this- “ she guided his hand back under her skirt- “and nobody will notice.”
He groaned again, shuddering as Ayesha’s grip tightened.
They laughed breathlessly, still half-talking about music.
“Do you know Sash? Or 2 Unlimited? “ Ayesha asked, still pumping him slowly.
“I’ve heard them. 2 Unlimited was big in India sometime back,” he managed.
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed,” she said, grinning. “Well that means you know what to expect then.”
Zara chuckled darkly. “Until tonight, when Mari and Sarah join us to finish you off.”
He stared at them, overwhelmed, his body trembling under their hands. “You’re insane. I’m in love with both of you.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them. The girls froze, then melted, their eyes softening.
Zara kissed him gently this time, no hunger, just warmth. “We love you too. More than you can imagine.”
Ayesha nodded, resting her forehead against his. “We love you so much jaan. We hope to prove that to you everyday from now on.”
For a moment, the car felt quiet, almost holy, their hearts beating louder than the engine.
Then Ayesha grinned, wicked again, and stroked him harder. “But don’t think you get to finish before we make you lose your mind inside us.”
Zara smirked. “Tonight is ours. And we want you hard when we hit that floor.”
He groaned, shaking, fighting for control. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Not yet,” Ayesha whispered, kissing his lips softly. “Not until you’ve danced with us. Not until we’ve shown everyone that you’re ours.”
The cab turned onto a darker street. Despite the stimulation, Bharath glanced at the boarded windows, the empty corners, the shadows moving under streetlamps. “Is this what you meant? Dangerous parts?”
Zara nodded, serious again. “Yeah. Some of these blocks, even cops don’t even go to. The gangs own them. They run drugs, guns, girls ... anything you can think of. This city looks pretty on the surface, but it’s split down the middle.”
Ayesha traced her finger along his chest. “That’s why the barrier’s here. That’s why we know Andy - the manager - at Euphoria. We stay safe because we know where to go and who to trust.”
Bharath kissed the top of her head, still reeling from her earlier climax under his fingers. “And tonight ... you trust me?”
Zara kissed his cheek. “We do. With our bodies. With our lives.”
The cab pulled closer to the lights of downtown, the beat of bass from Euphoria already vibrating faintly in the air. The girls pulled their skirts down just enough to look respectable when the door opened, but Bharath could still smell them on his hands, feeling them pressed against him...
The taxi jerked to a stop in front of Euphoria. Neon lights pulsed along the brick facade, the bass so heavy it made the sidewalk tremble. A line of club-goers stretched down the block, heels clicking on the pavement, breath fogging the autumn night.
Zara smoothed her skirt as she stepped out first, heels clicking, her chain catching the neon glow. Ayesha followed, her navel jewel glittering. Bharath climbed out after them, tugging at his jacket, trying to look like he belonged.
“Damn,” he muttered, staring at the line. “We’ll never get in.”