Chapter 22

The cabin woke slowly, the way houses do after nights that leave no secrets behind. Sunlight sliced through the blinds in thin gold bars, painting stripes across bare skin and tangled sheets. No one moved with purpose. Bodies shifted only when instinct demanded it—someone rolling closer to warmth, a hand drifting across a hip, a sigh that turned into a soft moan.

Across the hall in the third guest room, Willie woke to CeCe’s mouth on his cock. She was under the sheet, working him slow and wet, tongue tracing every vein like she was memorizing him. Jenna slept beside them, face tucked into Willie’s neck, one arm thrown across his chest. CeCe didn’t wake her. She simply kept sucking—long, luxurious pulls—until Willie’s hand found the back of her head and he came quietly down her throat. CeCe swallowed, kissed the tip, then crawled up to lie between them. Willie wrapped both women in his arms. They dozed again, sticky and content.

In the second room, Beth was awake first. She straddled TD’s thigh, rocking gently against the hard muscle, clit swollen and sensitive. TD stirred, eyes cracking open, and smiled sleepily. He slid a hand between them, two fingers curling inside her while his thumb brushed her clit. Beth rode his hand in silence, forehead against his shoulder, until she came in quiet shudders, biting her lip to keep from waking the house. TD kissed her temple. “Good morning.”

James was alone in the living room, coffee in hand, staring out at the lake. He’d slipped out early, needing some air after the intensity of the last two days. He didn’t mind the solitude; it gave him time to replay every moment from the weekend. His cock twitched at the memory of what transpired and at the anticipation of what was still to come.

Dr. Richard was on the deck already, naked, leaning on the railing with a mug of black coffee. The lake was mirror-still, mist rising off the surface. He heard soft footsteps—Holly, hair wild, skin marked with faint fingerprints and bite marks. She stepped up beside him, leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Morning, Principal.”

“Morning, trouble.”

They stood in silence for a while, watching the water. Holly’s hand found his, fingers threading together.

“Last night was...” She trailed off, searching for the word.

“Necessary,” he finished quietly.

She smiled against his arm. “Yeah.”

Inside, the cabin stirred gradually. No one rushed. Bodies moved toward the kitchen in ones and twos—coffee poured, fruit sliced, quiet laughter drifting through open doors. Some fucked again. Most didn’t. Everyone understood the day was long, and the best things come slow.

By early afternoon the heat had settled in—thick, humid, the kind that makes your skin feel electric. They migrated to the dock in a loose herd. The wood was sun-baked, almost too hot under bare feet. They spread blankets, opened cold bottles of water, and lay down in various states of recline—some on their backs, some on their stomachs, all naked, all glistening with sweat within minutes.

TD brought the oil—coconut-scented, warm from sitting in the sun. He started with CeCe, pouring a line down her spine, spreading it with long, firm strokes. She sighed, melting under his hands. James took Jenna—kneeling behind her, working the oil into her shoulders, down her back, over the curve of her ass. His thumbs dug into the muscles along her spine; she arched like a cat.

Debbie and Holly paired off naturally. Debbie poured oil across Holly’s breasts, watched it run in rivulets over her nipples, then rubbed it in with slow circles. Holly’s breath hitched when Debbie’s palms grazed her, thumbs brushing the hard peaks. Beth lay on her stomach beside Dr. Richard. He worked the oil into her back, her glutes, down her thighs—methodical, almost clinical, until his fingers slipped between her legs and she moaned into the blanket.

The touching turned sensual by degrees. Hands lingered. Breaths quickened. Oil-slick bodies slid against each other—CeCe rolling onto her back so TD could massage her breasts, Jenna turning over so James could oil her stomach, her thighs. Beth parted her legs for Dr. Richard; his fingers dipped inside her, slow and shallow, making her hips lift.

The morning stretched on and playful tossing turning to slow, sensual touching, laughter mixing with soft moans, the lake cool against heated skin.