"I’m gonna ask for your help again, Helen," I rasped against her lips, nipping the bottom one.
"Anyti, sir," she whispered breathless, eyes dark and promising, taking out her phone with shaky fingers.
We exchanged numbers quick—thumbs brushing, lingering a second too long.
One last kiss—deeper, hungrier—before she finally pulled away, hips swaying hypnotic as she walked down the hall, that satisfied, freshly-fucked glow all over her.
As she disappeared around the corner, Tiffany’s door was cracked open. She stepped out just in ti to catch Helen walking away—didn’t see the kiss, just the sexy maintenance MILF heading to the elevator, looking a little too satisfied for a simple job.
"Hey, Alex," Tiffany called, voice teasing, leaning against her doorfra. "Where have you been? I was looking for you yesterday."
"Hey, Tiffany," I said, closing my door behind and walking over casual. "Wasn’t ho—had so stuff to handle."
She eyed , jealousy flickering in her smile. "You get your shower fixed? I just saw Helen leave."
"Yeah, Lily sent her up. It’s fixed now," I said, shrugging like it was nothing. They all knew Helen—she handled maintenance for the whole building.
Tiffany smirked, stepping closer. "You know you could’ve showered at my place. I already gave you permission to co over whenever."
She was wearing a tight white shirt—way too small for those massive tits, fabric stretched thin, nipples poking faintly—and matching tight pajama pants that hugged every damn curve.
I’d only seen her in maxi dresses before, this was new—casual but lethal, the pants riding low on her hips, clinging tight to her thick thighs and making that fat, juicy ass look even curvier, juicier from every angle.
She caught checking her out, smile turning knowing and teasing. "Sothing you like?"
"Yeah," I said low, stepping in close, hand sliding to her waist, grabbing one thick cheek firm—feeling it yield soft under my fingers. I’d missed that ass.
"You coming on the trip, right?" she asked, pressing into my grip.
"Of course," I said, squeezing harder. "How could I not go when you’re going?" I ant it—every word.
She laughed soft, eyes darkening. "Why don’t you join us for breakfast? Brittany’s watching TV."
"Great idea," I said. "I’ll co over after a quick shower."
She nodded, biting her lip as she watched head back.
I closed my door, grinning. Today was a relaxing day—trip started tonight, long weekend with all the MILFs I loved ahead. It was gonna be really good.
Brushed my teeth quick, took a fast hot shower—finally working perfect—then threw on loose pants and a comfortable shirt. Casual, ready.
Her door was unlocked—she was waiting.
I stepped in.
Brittany was curled on the living room couch, watching so vampire drama—legs tucked under her, looking cute and guilty.
She was in tiny casual shorts showing off her thick thighs—perfect for grabbing—and just a cropped vest, thin enough that her nipples poked through clear. Commando, like always.
She looked up when I walked in—cheeks flushing deep red, rembering yesterday: how we’d fucked behind her mom’s back, how I’d taken her virgin ass.
She waved shy. I waved back, smirking, and sat right beside her—close, thigh brushing hers.
"Hey, what you watching?" I asked low, leaning in a little.
She shifted, thighs pressing together. "Just... Vampire Diaries," she murmured, voice soft, eyes flicking to then away, still blushing.
I didn’t waste ti—hand sliding casual to her bare thigh, squeezing the soft, thick flesh slow.
She liked it—biting her lip harder, glancing toward the kitchen where her mom was clattering plates. She grabbed the remote quick, turning the TV volu up a notch to cover any sounds.
Her skin was warm, smooth—thighs so plump under my fingers. She spread them just a fraction, inviting more.
"Hey," I whispered, squeezing higher. "Does your mom suspect we did sothing yesterday in the shower?"
"No," she breathed, excited, eyes sparkling with that naughty thrill. "She doesn’t know a single thing."
Fucking behind her mom’s back turned her on even more—I could feel it in the way her thigh trembled under my hand.
She glanced quick at the kitchen entrance, then tugged the strap of her cropped vest aside—exposing one perfect pink nipple, hard and begging, squeezing it lightly for while keeping watch.
I grinned dark, cock stirring in my shorts.
She scooted closer, hand sliding bold to my lap—rubbing my dick slow through the fabric, waking it up like she knew exactly how to care for it, fingers tracing the outline.
Noise from the kitchen—plates clinking—and we both froze, pulling back just enough.
Not the right ti. I could fuck her anyti on the beach trip. Breakfast first.
Tiffany called from the kitchen—"Food’s ready, you two!"
Brittany turned off the TV quick. We stood, heading to the dining table where Tiffany had set out toast, eggs, fresh fruit, and tea—simple but warm, the sll filling the room.
It was nice, eating together like this—casual chatter, Tiffany asking about my "busy day" yesterday with that knowing tease in her voice, Brittany blushing every ti our eyes t.
But the air was thick with secrets.
"So, Alex," Tiffany said, pouring tea with a teasing smile, "you were pretty busy yesterday. Everything okay?"
"Yeah, just college stuff," I said, taking a bite of toast, eting her eyes. She knew sothing—always did—but didn’t push.
Brittany stayed quiet at first, blushing every ti I glanced her way, poking at her fruit.
"The trip’s gonna be great," Tiffany said, changing the subject smooth. "Everyone’s excited. Too bad my husband can’t make it."
She sighed dramatic, but her eyes flicked to , lingering a second too long, that teasing spark unmistakable. "More fun for us, right?"
Brittany nodded quick. "It’ll be nice... relaxing by the beach."
Tiffany leaned forward, elbows on the table, pushing her tits together just enough to make the shirt strain. "Speaking of the beach... Alex," she said, voice dropping playful, "can you help decide which bikini I should wear? I’ve got a few options. You seem like you’d have... good taste."
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