Chapter 4: Risk Day (Dad WFH)

Breakfast tasted like ash. Dad announced over coffee that he’d be working from home—big Zoom meetings all day in the upstairs office. My stomach plummeted. Lauren kept her face neutral, pouring orange juice like nothing was wrong, but her eyes flicked to mine for a split second with something dark and hungry. The moment his footsteps climbed the stairs and the office door clicked shut, the house shifted. Every creak of the floorboards felt loaded.

At one o’clock my phone vibrated on the kitchen counter while Dad was still in the next room. Lauren’s text: I need my workout NOW. Living room. Be naked when I get there.

I stripped right there on the rug, heart slamming so hard my ribs ached. Shorts and shirt in a pile. Cock already thickening from the sheer risk. She appeared at 2:30 carrying a glass of water like a prop, wearing the crotchless black leggings and gray sports bra. She moved close enough that I smelled the faint trace of her earlier tension.

“He’s on mute for the next hour,” she breathed, lips barely moving. “We’re doing this. I’m too wet to wait.”

Before I could answer she peeled the sports bra off in one smooth motion. Her breasts spilled free, nipples tight. She stepped behind me, pressed the warm, damp fabric over my eyes and knotted it tight at the back of my head. Darkness swallowed everything. The world narrowed to sound and touch. “You can only feel and hear me now. No peeking.”

Upstairs, Dad’s muffled voice carried through the ceiling—calm, professional, discussing quarterly projections. The contrast made my skin prickle.

She took my cock in her hand, warm and sure, and led me forward like a leash. My shins bumped the Peloton frame. I gripped the handlebars blindly, knuckles white. She climbed on facing me, one toned leg wrapping around my waist while the other hooked onto the pedal for leverage. The bike rocked the instant she settled. Her slit parted around me—no teasing, just raw, scorching heat as I sank deep in one slow push.