Runner's Prize
Copyright© 2026 by INtrinSicliValud
Chapter 3
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Young and driven to succeed, Tigh Raines has everything. A barren upscale apartment. His father, the company head, providing far too much advice. And a laser-like focus on the future, one that has no place for the rain-soaked beauty on an isolated park bench. She’s sobbing; he stops. Heat ensues.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual Romantic
When Daniella lifted her gaze, I was straining not to stare anywhere below her chin, where sodden dark lace beneath tissue-paper thin ivory clung to impressive swells. That and the tiny skirt hid little of her shapely curves. Although I’d restrained myself, Parker had received quite the eyeful.
Therefore, of course, she’d been correct. In that outfit, the doorman’s assumption about her occupation matched my own when I first spotted her on the bench. Plus, let’s be brutally honest, her thick accent. The sudden arch of her eyebrows as the elevator rose proclaimed she understood.
However, she stayed quiet and, after the elevator opened, followed me into the navy-carpeted hall. Motion-sensored bulbs came to life as we progressed and, in the distance, loomed the entrance to my apartment.
When I unlocked and pushed open the door, she stiffened and caught her breath. For a brief second, her eyes met mine, and again I thought she’d speak, but instead, she slipped past me. Yes, I caught a slight tremor in her movement and those shiny heels scratched right as she crossed the threshold, but she soon recovered, and they clicked across the white-tiled floor.
After letting the door drift closed with a muted thump, I stood watching her. A certain mesmerizing effect tugged at me. Not just the obvious: the beguiling motion of her sleek curves as my shirt dangled from a fist. No, she remained such a mystery.
Wide-eyed, she scanned the open floor plan. Expansive main area, large kitchen off to one side, then an empty dining room. While looking through the rain-streaked tall windows and glass doors leading to a balcony, she gasped. Just beyond the glass panels, whirling jets had hissed to life, sending wisps of steam skyward. Right on schedule, the timer had initiated, ready for my usual return from exercising.
“You, um, live here alone?” She left the view to face me.
“Yep.”
“Gay?”
I jolted, then shook my head. “Uh, no. Why?”
“Why?” She scanned me, then took a few shaky steps closer to the windows, shimmering with droplets. “How come a guy like you ... No, that’s not fair.”
While chewing her lips, she inspected the sparse living space. It held only a widescreen TV above a fireplace I hadn’t yet figured out how to use, and a single chestnut leather armchair beside a battered small table I’d brought from college. Like the rest of the place, white tile covered the floors, and the walls were a light gray. The only color came from the red and blue bands of a thick Native-American rug. I’d bought it cheap in a small shop just inside Mexico.
“Okay, Tigh fighter man.” Her brown eyes found me again. “But, um, you haven’t bought furniture?”
“Hmm, not home much.” I shrugged, tugging my feet free of the muddy sneakers. “Do a lot of traveling.” With a taut grin, I snatched my phone from a gray marble kitchen counter. “Here.”
For a while, she simply stared at my outstretched hand, then rolled her full lips and shook her head. After a soft chortle, she placed the soaked T-shirt over my forearm.
“I’m cold and wet, bebé.” At her smile, heat slipped up my cheeks again. “Can I dry my clothes? Maybe take a warm shower?” Before my brain mustered a response, she glanced out the windows. “It’s not gonna let up for a while. What’s the rush?”
“N-No, um, rush,” I mumbled, heart thumping.
At the very back of my spiraling mind, eyes wide and hand over his mouth, my ghostly dad stood shaking with both terror and frustration. But at the twinkling of her gaze, I lowered the phone to the counter, and after grasping the shirt, I gestured for an open doorway.
“Guest suite has a full bath. Uh, towels and robes. And, um, I think there’s soap and stuff.”
“You think?” She chuckled.
“Like I said. Not here much.”
When those shiny heels clicked towards the room and hands rose, gathering her dripping hair in a messy ponytail, the stretching of the almost invisible top had every nerve inside me jangling. At her sudden halt and swift pirouette, I gulped.
“Ah, bueno.” She glanced at my shorts, then smacked her lips. Yeah, my rod surged, pressing against the soaked material. “No, not gay. And I feel a bit better. But damn, those are some serious blue eyes you have, Tigh. Purr.” Before I processed the tumbling words, she pointed to another doorway across the apartment. “Is that your room?”
“Um, yes.”
“Does it have a bigger shower?” She winked. “Hmm, one we might share?”
“What!” I jerked a step backwards.
“Oh my, you are fun.” With a laugh, she let the sodden tresses splat to her back before clutching both arms over her chest. “I’m only teasing. It’s what I do.”
After that, she spun again and disappeared through the doorway. As I stood there, pulse thundering and knees shaking, the door thumped shut. It took a full minute before I whipped into motion, dashing into the kitchen. Somewhere behind one of the panels sat a washer and dryer.
“What she does?” I murmured after finding them at last. “Tease?”
When she hadn’t appeared for a while, I looked around. There wasn’t anything for her to steal, even if that was her goal. A toaster, well-used, again from my old dorm room. Overpriced juicer, courtesy of a hopeful sycophant, she could have.
Except, let’s face it, that was the final echo of my father’s warnings. Whatever her game, whatever lurked behind those wide brown eyes, suddenly playful, ill intent didn’t appear to be her motivation.
Might I have been naïve? Perhaps. Yet she swayed somewhere beyond that door, naked, under a steamy torrent of glittering droplets. So, boom, right back to the first mystery—her game. What was it?
A shiver raced over my skin. The answer wouldn’t be arriving anytime soon, and she’d been correct about one thing. With my teeth chattering, a warm shower should be my priority, and after a lengthy sigh, I stepped into my dark bedroom.
But I took my phone. And I locked the door. So not all dad’s warnings went unheeded.
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