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A Life in Marvel

Chapter 9

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The gym had been turned into something that almost looked classy. Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed the ceiling like someone had spent way too long on Pinterest. A cheap disco ball spun lazy circles of colored light across the bleachers, throwing red, blue, and gold flecks over everyone. The usual basketball-court smell of old rubber and sweat was mostly covered by fog-machine haze and too much body spray. “Midtown Masquerade” banners hung crooked on the walls, but nobody gave a shit. It was Homecoming. For one night the school felt like it mattered.

Morgan and Gwen stepped through the double doors arm-in-arm.

Her emerald dress was doing exactly what it was supposed to. Floor-length silk hugged every new line of her body like it had been poured on. The high neckline and long sleeves looked elegant from a distance, but up close the fabric clung to the firm swell of her tits, the flat plane of her stomach, and the powerful curve of her ass. Every step made the silk slide over her thighs with a soft whisper. Her blonde hair was twisted up, a few loose strands brushing her neck. She looked like she could walk straight onto a runway or snap a guy’s neck without breaking a sweat.

Morgan felt the room hit him all at once.

A wave of teenage want rolled over his senses—hot, messy, loud, and everywhere. Surface thoughts flickered through his head like bad radio static. Half the football team was locked on Gwen, sure, but it wasn’t just her.

Fuck, look at Liz in that blue dress. Those tits look even bigger up close. Bet they’d feel amazing wrapped around my cock.

Sarah’s ass in those tight black pants… I’ve wanted to bend her over since sophomore year.

God, MJ looks hot when she’s not scowling. Those long legs… I’d let her step on me.

Why the hell is Ned’s date smiling at him like that? She’s way out of his league. I’d treat her better.

Flash keeps staring at that freshman girl’s cleavage. He’s gonna pop a boner right here.

If I could get Cindy alone in the bathroom for five minutes…

Peter’s taller than I remembered. Kinda cute when he’s nervous.

That senior in the red top has the best ass in the grade. I’d eat it right here if I could.

Fuck, I want to watch my girlfriend make out with another girl tonight…

Jealousy spiked hard from a cluster of girls near the punch bowl. Gwen thinks she’s so special just because she filled out. Whatever. My ass is better. Another girl was thinking about her own boyfriend but picturing Morgan’s hands instead. Two guys in letterman jackets were low-key arguing over who could pull Liz away from Peter later. A junior girl was wet just watching her best friend dance close with some senior, imagining joining them. One of the chaperones was trying not to stare at a senior girl’s legs while remembering his own high-school days. The whole room was a stew of horniness, envy, and half-formed fantasies.

Morgan’s mouth curved. He leaned in close, lips brushing Gwen’s ear as they walked.

“Flash is staring at that freshman’s ass like he wants to die mad about it,” he murmured. “But the kid next to him is thinking about bending Sarah from chem over the bleachers and eating her out till she squirts on his letterman jacket. Girl in the red dress? She’s soaked watching her own girlfriend grind on that tall senior. Keeps picturing them both naked in the locker room. And that group by the speakers? Two of them are hard just thinking about Liz’s tits bouncing if she dances any harder.”

Gwen’s breath hitched, but she kept her smile in place. Her fingers tightened on his arm. “You’re terrible.”

“You love it.” He let his hand slide lower on her waist, thumb brushing the top of her ass through the silk. “Half the football team is jealous as fuck of me right now, but the other half is busy eye-fucking each other. That big guy in the gray suit just imagined railing his best friend in the bathroom while his date waits outside. And the girl in the silver top? She’s dripping thinking about making out with her lab partner later. Whole room’s horny tonight.”

They kept walking, Morgan feeding her a running commentary under his breath. “See the couple slow-dancing near the corner? He’s thinking about how tight her pussy felt last weekend. She’s wondering if his buddy would join next time. That freshman girl by the snacks? She’s never been touched but she’s soaked imagining Flash’s hands on her. Kid’s got no clue how many people want him tonight. Over by the drinks, that quiet girl is fantasizing about getting fucked by two guys at once. Her best friend is right next to her thinking the same thing. And that teacher near the door? He’s half-hard remembering what it felt like to get a handjob under the bleachers back in his day.”

Gwen shivered, pressing closer. The silk of her dress slid against his thigh. “Keep going.”

Morgan smirked. “Over by the trophy case, Ned’s date is thinking about sucking him off in his car later. She’s surprised how much she likes him. MJ’s pretending to be bored but she’s already wet thinking about later with us. And Liz… she’s trying to focus on Peter but keeps flashing back to how my cock felt stretching her last time. Room’s a fucking mess of want. That senior couple over there? He’s already got his hand under her dress, two fingers inside her while they pretend to dance. She’s trying not to moan too loud.”

Gwen’s breath was coming a little faster now. Her body was warm against his side, the silk doing nothing to hide how turned on she was getting from the running feed in his head. She squeezed his arm tighter, nails digging in just a bit.

They reached the group before Gwen could answer. Ned was practically vibrating next to the trophy case, pointing at the shiny gold monstrosity like it was the Holy Grail. “Look at it! National champions! We’re literally legends now. I already took seventeen pictures. Seventeen!”

MJ stood beside him in her sleek black dress, the fabric tight enough to show off her long toned legs and the subtle curve of her hips. Her dark hair was down, wavy and messy. She gave Morgan a slow, heated look that promised she’d been counting the hours. Flash leaned against the wall, trying to look cool in his rented suit, but his eyes kept darting at a freshman girl’s cleavage a few feet away. “Yeah, whatever. Parker probably realized he’d just drag the night down like he drags everything else—”

“Shut the fuck up, Flash,” Ned cut in, surprisingly sharp.

Gwen shot him a glare. “Not tonight.”

Morgan just smirked and said nothing. Flash’s mouth snapped closed.

Then Peter and Liz walked in.

Liz looked incredible. The deep blue dress clung to her full tits and narrow waist, the hem high enough to show smooth tanned thighs. Her hair was down in loose waves. But Morgan felt the tension rolling off Peter immediately. The kid’s shoulders were tight, jaw locked. Surface thoughts were a frantic mess about Toomes, a plane, Stark tech. Morgan caught the faint echo of heavy intent near the doors—Toomes watching from the parking lot.

Peter tried anyway. He forced a smile, waved at the group, let Liz tug him toward the dance floor. But his eyes kept flicking to his phone.

Morgan leaned into Gwen again as they all settled in. “Peter’s barely holding it together. Half the room still wants Liz bad—guy behind us is imagining motorboating her tits. Another’s thinking about bending MJ over while she keeps that deadpan face. Flash is jealous of everyone and hard at the same time. Whole place is one bad song away from an orgy.”

Gwen laughed softly, squeezing his arm. Her body was already warm against him, the silk doing nothing to hide how turned on she was getting from the running feed in his head.

The music kicked up—something slow and bass-heavy with a deep thump that vibrated through the floorboards. Morgan tugged Gwen onto the dance floor first, his hand settling low on her back, right where the silk met the curve of her ass. Every slow sway pressed her body against his. He could feel the heat between her thighs, the faint slickness already soaking through her panties from the alley earlier and the walk here. The emerald dress slid against him like liquid, thin enough that he could trace the outline of her firm tits and the hard points of her nipples pressing into his chest.

The room kept feeding him thoughts, a constant flood of raw teenage desire crashing over his senses. A senior couple nearby was grinding closer than the chaperones would like, the guy’s hand sliding lower, thinking about slipping his fingers under her dress right there on the dance floor, fingers already twitching against her thigh. A group of girls by the wall were whispering about who they’d fuck if they could get away with it—names flying, bodies compared, fantasies getting dirtier by the second. “I’d let him bend me over the trophy case,” one said under her breath about a tall basketball player, imagining his hands on her ass. Another laughed and admitted she wanted to sit on her best friend’s face later, picturing tongues and fingers in the bathroom. Even a couple of the chaperones weren’t immune; one teacher was trying not to stare at a senior girl’s legs while remembering his own high-school days, half-hard in his slacks and hating himself for it. Two guys from the soccer team were eye-fucking each other across the punch bowl, both wondering who would make the first move tonight and how far they could go in the parking lot.

Morgan whispered it all to Gwen as they danced, voice low and filthy in her ear, turning the entire crowded gym into their private dirty little game. “That couple over there? He’s two seconds from fingering her in front of everyone. Those girls by the wall are trading fantasies about riding the same dude raw in the locker room. Teacher in the corner is trying not to cum in his pants thinking about that cheerleader’s thighs wrapped around his head. Soccer guys? One’s imagining sucking the other off behind the bleachers while the third watches.”

Gwen shivered against him, her breath catching. The silk of her dress slid over his thigh as they moved, her powerful ass flexing under his palm. “You’re awful.”

“You’re soaked,” he answered, hand flexing on her waist. He could feel it through the fabric—the heat, the slickness building between her legs, her nipples stiff against his chest. “Half the football team is jealous as fuck of me right now, but the other half is busy eye-fucking each other. That big guy in the gray suit just imagined railing his best friend in the bathroom while his date waits outside. And the girl in the silver top? She’s dripping thinking about making out with her lab partner later. Whole room’s horny tonight.”

They kept moving in slow circles, bodies pressed tight. Morgan’s hand stayed low, thumb stroking the top of her ass through the silk while he kept feeding her the room’s filth. “See the couple slow-dancing near the corner? He’s thinking about how tight her pussy felt last weekend. She’s wondering if his buddy would join next time. That freshman girl by the snacks? She’s never been touched but she’s soaked imagining Flash’s hands on her. Kid’s got no clue how many people want him tonight. Over by the drinks, that quiet girl is fantasizing about getting fucked by two guys at once. Her best friend is right next to her thinking the same thing.”

Gwen’s breath was coming faster now. She rolled her hips into his more deliberately, grinding her soaked heat against his thigh. The silk bunched slightly between them, the friction making her sigh softly. Morgan pulled her tighter, letting her feel how hard he was against her stomach.

Morgan’s hand flexed on Gwen’s waist. He caught the faint echo of heavy, ugly intent near the doors—Toomes himself, lurking just outside in the parking lot, watching. The man wasn’t here to chaperone.

Peter tried anyway. He forced a smile when he and Liz reached the group, waved awkwardly, and let her tug him toward the dance floor. But his eyes kept flicking to his phone every few seconds. The alert hit right as a slow song started—grainy security-cam footage of a familiar salvage truck near a private airstrip, Toomes’ crew loading crates marked with Stark Industries logos. Peter’s face went pale under the spinning lights.

He lasted maybe ten minutes.

Morgan watched from the dance floor as Peter pulled Liz aside near the bleachers. They stepped into the shadows by the folded chairs, low voices barely carrying over the music. Peter’s hands gestured apologetically, shoulders hunched.

“I’m sorry, Liz. I have to go. There’s… something happening with that salvage crew again. The one from D.C. They’re loading Stark tech onto a plane tonight. If I don’t stop it—” His voice cracked. “People could get hurt. I can’t just dance and pretend it’s fine.”

Liz touched his arm, her expression a mix of worry and something like relief. “I get it, Peter. Really. Go. Just… be careful, okay? Text me when it’s done so I know you’re not bleeding in an alley somewhere.”

Peter nodded, already half-turned toward the exit. “I will. I’m really sorry about tonight. You look amazing. I wanted—” He stopped, swallowed hard. “I wanted this to be normal for once.”

Liz gave him a quick, tight hug, her full tits pressing against his chest for a second. “It’s okay. Family stuff comes first. Save me a story for later.” She pulled back and forced a smile.

Peter slipped out the side door, suit jacket already half off like he couldn’t wait to change. The relief in Liz’s posture was immediate—shoulders dropping, a small exhale as she smoothed her blue dress down over her hips. She had plans later that didn’t involve babysitting guilt or pretending everything was fine while her dad’s boss plotted another score. Still, real concern lingered. Peter was a good guy. She didn’t want him hurt.

Ned looked around the group, confused. “Where’d he go?”

“Family thing,” Liz said, forcing a bright smile as she rejoined them. She stepped right up beside Morgan, close enough that her arm brushed his. “He’ll be fine. Said to save him a slice of cake or whatever.”

MJ raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. Flash opened his mouth—probably something about Parker bailing again—but caught the collective death glare from everyone and wisely stayed quiet, slinking back against the wall.

Morgan leaned down to Gwen, voice low. “Peter just chose the plane over the dance. Kid’s growing up. Toomes is still outside, watching. We’ll handle it quiet if it spills in here.”

Gwen nodded once, eyes sharp, spider-sense clearly prickling.

Liz turned toward Morgan then, her expression shifting. The forced brightness faded into something hotter, more direct. Her eyes lingered on his mouth, then dropped slowly down his body before coming back up. She stepped a little closer, voice soft enough that only he and Gwen could hear.

“He tried,” she said, a small shrug. “But we both knew how this night was gonna go. Dad’s been… intense since D.C. Peter’s got that whole hero thing pulling at him. I told him to be safe.” Her gaze flicked to Morgan again, hotter this time. “Doesn’t mean the rest of my night has to be ruined, though.”

Morgan felt the want rolling off her—warm, eager, a little guilty but mostly relieved. Liz’s body language screamed it: the way she shifted her weight so her hip brushed his, the subtle arch in her back that pushed her full tits forward under the blue dress. She was already thinking about later, about the review room, about his hands on her again.

“You good?” Morgan asked quietly, letting his fingers brush the small of her back.

Liz nodded, biting her lower lip for a second. “Better now. He’s doing what he has to do. And I’ve got… other plans.” Her eyes met his again, dark and promising. “You still owe me that dance you teased about last week. The one where you said you’d tell me every filthy thing you’re thinking while we’re out here in front of everyone.”

Gwen smirked beside them, clearly enjoying the shift. “He’s been giving me the play-by-play already. Room’s filthy tonight.”

Liz laughed softly, but her cheeks flushed darker. She leaned in a little more, voice dropping. “Good. Because I’ve been wet since I saw you two walk in. That dress on Gwen… and you looking at me like that. Peter’s sweet, but he’s not—” She stopped, glanced around, then finished anyway. “He’s not you. Not right now.”

Gwen tugged Morgan onto the dance floor.

They moved together like they’d done it a hundred times. His hand settled low on her back, right where the silk met the curve of her ass. Every slow sway pressed her body against his. He could feel the heat between her thighs, the faint slickness already soaking through her panties from the alley earlier and the walk here. The emerald dress slid against him like liquid, thin enough that he could trace the outline of her firm tits and the hard points of her nipples.

“Half the room wants to fuck you right now,” he whispered against her ear, voice low. “Girl in the silver dress keeps staring at your tits and wondering if they bounce the same way when you ride cock.

Gwen’s breath caught. She rolled her hips into his, grinding slow and deliberate. The silk slid between them, teasing. Her powerful ass flexed under his palm as she pressed closer, letting him feel exactly how wet she was getting. “Keep talking,” she murmured, lips brushing his jaw. “Makes me wetter.”

His fingers flexed, palming the firm swell of her ass and pulling her tighter so she could feel exactly how hard he was. They danced like that for two full songs—her tits pressed flush to his chest, nipples hard through the thin fabric, his thigh occasionally slipping between hers so she could rock her soaked pussy against it. Every grind made the silk bunch and slide, the friction building. Gwen’s breathing grew heavier, little sighs escaping each time her clit dragged along his leg.

Morgan kept feeding her the room. “Flash is hard as a rock watching that freshman. Imagining bending her over the bleachers. That quiet girl by the wall? She’s soaked thinking about eating Liz out in the locker room later. Whole place is one bad decision away from someone getting fingered on the dance floor.”

Gwen shivered hard, grinding down firmer on his thigh. Her hand slid up his chest, nails digging in just a little. The heat between her legs was obvious now—wet enough that it was starting to slick the front of his pants where she rubbed.

When the song changed again, Liz cut in with a shy but hungry smile. Morgan switched partners smoothly, Gwen stepping back with a knowing look and a wet spot visible on the silk if you knew where to look.

Liz’s body was softer, curvier—full tits that swayed every time she moved, wide hips, thick thighs that filled out the blue dress perfectly. She pressed close right away, a little nervous but clearly turned on. Morgan’s hand settled on her lower back, thumb stroking the top of her ass.

“You feel good,” he said quietly. “Peter leave you all worked up?”

She laughed softly, cheeks pink. “A little. But I’ve got plans later.” Her hips rolled against him, bolder than expected. It wasn’t a polite sway—this was deliberate. Liz pushed her thick ass back into his hand, then rolled forward so her heavy tits dragged across his chest. The soft, heavy flesh molded against him with every slow grind, nipples stiff and obvious through the thin blue fabric. She worked her hips in a smooth, filthy circle, pressing her pussy right against the hard line of his cock through their clothes. The movement was slow and rhythmic, like she was already fucking him on the dance floor.

Morgan let his power brush her skin—feeling the quick spike of heat between her legs, the way her nipples tightened even more, the slick rush of wetness soaking her panties. “Good. Because I’ve been thinking about bending you over that review table since last week.”

Liz shivered, pressing closer. She arched her back a little, pushing her ass out so his hand could grip more of the soft, heavy cheek. Then she rolled her hips again—slower this time, grinding the heat of her cunt along his trapped cock in long, deliberate strokes. Her thick thighs squeezed together around his leg for a second, trapping it there while she rocked. Her big tits swayed heavily between them, brushing and dragging over his chest with every movement. She looked up at him through her lashes, lips parted, breathing a little faster.

“Been thinking about it too,” she whispered, voice husky. “How you stretch me. How wet I get when you talk dirty like this.” She rolled her hips again, firmer, letting the ridge of his cock press right against her clit through the layers. A tiny, needy sound slipped out of her as she did it. Her ass filled his palm perfectly—soft and heavy, jiggling slightly when she ground down harder.

They danced like that through the whole song—Liz working her curvy body against him like they were the only two people in the gym. She’d roll her hips in tight circles, then slide up and down along his cock, her thick thighs flexing. Her tits kept brushing and bouncing against his chest, nipples dragging teasingly. Every few seconds she’d press her pussy down harder, grinding with purpose, like she was chasing friction right there in front of everyone. Morgan’s hand stayed on her ass, squeezing and guiding her movements, feeling the soft flesh spill between his fingers.

“You’re dripping,” he murmured against her ear. “Can feel how soaked you are through the dress. Keep grinding like that and you’re gonna cum right here on the dance floor.”

Liz’s breath hitched. She rolled her hips again, slower and filthier, dragging her clit along his length. “Maybe I want to,” she breathed. Her cheeks were flushed dark, eyes glassy with want. She arched harder, pushing her tits more firmly into him, then dropped low for a second so her ass pressed fully back against his cock before sliding back up. The movement was pure heat—curvy, eager, and shameless in how she used her body.

The song ended too soon. Liz stayed pressed close for an extra beat, breathing against his neck, her hand sliding down his chest like she didn’t want to let go yet. Her thighs were trembling just a little from the constant grinding.

Then MJ stepped up, eyes dark and promising.

She moved different—taller, more deliberate. Long legs that seemed to go on forever, a tight ass that flexed noticeably with every step, and small but perky tits that the black dress showed off perfectly, nipples already tight against the fabric. Her dark hair swayed as she closed the distance. She locked eyes with Morgan, zero shame, zero hesitation. One hand settled on his shoulder, the other slid straight down his chest and stopped just above his belt, fingers brushing the edge like she was seconds from unzipping him right there.

“Been waiting for this part,” she said, voice low and dry but edged with heat.

Morgan’s hand settled on her hip, then lower, squeezing the firm curve of her ass through the dress. “You look like you’ve been thinking about later too.”

She smirked, stepping in so close her perky tits brushed his chest. “You have no idea.”

The music was still slow and heavy, bass rumbling through the floor. MJ started moving immediately, no shy warm-up. She slid one long leg between his thighs, pressing her thigh right up against his hard cock. Then she rolled her hips in a slow, filthy circle, grinding her pussy along the length of him through their clothes. The movement was precise and confident—her tight ass flexing as she pushed back, then rolled forward again, dragging her heat over him.

Morgan’s hand gripped her ass harder, fingers digging into the firm muscle. MJ responded by dropping lower for a second, bending her knees so her crotch rubbed directly over the thick ridge of his cock before sliding back up. Her perky tits dragged across his chest with the motion, nipples stiff and dragging teasingly. She kept that slow grind going, hips rolling in tight, deliberate figure-eights that let her clit ride along his shaft again and again.

“Fuck, you’re soaked already,” Morgan muttered against her ear.

MJ’s breath hitched. She smirked and pressed harder, thigh squeezing between his legs while her hips kept working. “Been wet since I watched you dance with the others. Seeing Liz grind on you like that… made me want to cut in sooner.” She rolled her hips again, slower this time, dragging her pussy up the full length of his cock and then back down, letting him feel every inch of the wet heat through the thin layers. Her long legs flexed, one thigh rubbing firmly against his balls while the other braced for balance.

They danced like they were already fucking. MJ’s body moved with purpose—tight ass pushing back into his grip, then rolling forward so her tits pressed flush to him. She’d grind in small, quick circles that rubbed her clit right on the head of his cock, then switch to long, dragging strokes that slid her soaked pussy along his entire length. Every few beats she’d drop low, bending her knees so her face was level with his chest for a second, ass pushed out, before rising again with a filthy roll that made her tits bounce lightly.

Morgan flexed his fingers on her ass, spreading one cheek slightly through the dress. MJ rewarded him by grinding down harder, her breath catching in her throat. “Keep doing that,” she whispered, voice rougher now. “Feels good when you grab me like you own it.” She rolled her hips again, faster, her tight ass flexing under his palm as she worked herself against his cock like they had all the time in the world.

The room around them faded. MJ’s long legs kept shifting, one thigh pressing and rubbing while the other braced. Her perky tits dragged and bounced against him with every grind. She tilted her head back slightly, lips parted, letting out tiny, breathy sounds every time her clit dragged over the head of his cock. The black dress rode up her thighs a little from how hard she was moving, showing more of that smooth skin.

“You’re gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep grinding like that,” Morgan said, voice low.

MJ’s eyes flashed. She smirked and did it again—dropping low, rolling her hips in a slow, filthy circle that pressed her soaked cunt right along his shaft, then sliding back up so her tits dragged over his chest. “Good. I want you aching for the room later.” Her hand on his shoulder tightened, nails digging in as she ground down harder, chasing more friction. Her tight ass flexed and rolled under his grip, muscles working as she rode the line of his cock through their clothes.

They stayed locked like that through the rest of the song—MJ’s long legs shifting, thigh rubbing his balls, hips rolling and grinding in waves that got filthier each time. Her perky tits kept bouncing and dragging, nipples stiff and sensitive. Sweat was starting to bead on her collarbone. She was breathing heavier now, little gasps escaping every time she hit the right spot.

A few moments after the song finished, Gwen’s head snapped up. Her spider-sense prickled hard, a sharp buzz at the back of her neck. Morgan felt it too through their connection—a sudden spike of heavy, ugly intent cutting through the thick cloud of teenage horniness. It stood out like a knife in soft flesh. Not Toomes himself, but one of his crew. The guy was inside now, near the side exit by the equipment storage, trying to look casual in a cheap suit that didn’t fit his build. Under his jacket something small hummed with leftover Chitauri energy, a faint green glow bleeding through the fabric. A leftover piece of the weapon tech, probably meant as a distraction or quick score while everyone was distracted by the dance.

MJ noticed the shift in Morgan’s posture immediately. She stepped back just enough, eyes sharp, but her hand stayed on his chest for a second longer, fingers brushing down toward his belt like a promise. “Later,” she murmured, voice still husky from the grinding. “Don’t take too long.”

Morgan nodded, already scanning the room. Gwen was already moving subtly toward the edge of the dance floor, her steps smooth and unhurried, like she was just heading for water. The dance had been pure heat, but the night wasn’t over yet.

They slipped away together without drawing eyes. The gym was packed and loud, lights flashing, bodies moving everywhere. No one noticed two students heading toward the side hall. Couples were grinding close, hands wandering under dresses, laughter mixing with the bass. The air was thick with sweat, perfume, and teenage want. Morgan’s senses were still buzzing from the dance—MJ’s tight grind, Liz’s heavy tits dragging against him, Gwen’s powerful ass flexing in his hands. His cock was still half-hard, pressing against his pants as they walked.

The guy was lingering by the emergency exit door, pretending to check his phone while his free hand hovered near the bulge under his jacket. He kept glancing back toward the dance floor, waiting for the right moment to cause chaos or slip something into the crowd. He looked nervous, shifting his weight, eyes darting. The device under his jacket gave off that faint, sickly hum of Chitauri energy—unstable, dangerous.

Gwen didn’t give him one.

She moved like the spider she was. One quick, silent leap onto the wall, fingers sticking effortlessly to the painted cinderblock. Then she dropped from the ceiling like a shadow directly behind him. No sound. No warning. Her hand came down in a precise chop to the side of his neck—enhanced strength behind it, but perfectly controlled. The guy crumpled instantly, knees buckling, body going limp before he could even gasp. Gwen caught him under the arms and lowered him quietly to the floor, propping him against the wall like he’d had too much punch. His head lolled, phone clattering beside him.

Morgan was right there in the next heartbeat. He crouched, pulled the guy’s jacket open, and grabbed the device. It was small, ugly, palm-sized, still faintly glowing with that sickly Chitauri green. The core hummed unsteadily, like it was one jostle away from going active and turning the gym into a panic zone. Morgan turned it over once in his hand, feeling the wrongness of the alien tech through his fingertips—the faint buzz that made his skin crawl. Then he crushed the power core under his shoe. The faint feedback loop died with a soft crackle and a spark. The glow faded completely.

“Done,” Gwen whispered, already back on her feet. She brushed her hands off on her dress like nothing happened, cheeks still a little flushed from the dancing and the quick burst of adrenaline. Her emerald silk clung to her body, the fabric slightly rumpled from Morgan’s hands earlier. “No one noticed.”

Morgan pocketed the dead tech, the weight of it small and harmless now. “Good. Nice drop, by the way. Clean.”

Gwen gave him a quick, satisfied grin, the kind that said she was riding the adrenaline and the leftover heat from the dance floor. Her eyes flicked down to the bulge in his pants for a second, then back up. “Your turn next time. Let’s get back before they send a search party.”

They rejoined the dance like nothing had happened. The song was ending anyway, lights pulsing slower, casting long shadows across the gym floor. Morgan caught Liz and MJ’s eyes across the floor—both of them watching with that same hungry, knowing look. Liz’s cheeks were still pink, her blue dress clinging a little from how hard she’d been grinding earlier, the fabric outlining her full tits and wide hips. MJ’s black dress had ridden up her long legs just enough to show more thigh, her gaze dark and impatient, lips still slightly swollen from making out.

The night was winding down. Lights dimmed lower. Couples started drifting toward the exits, some laughing, some making out in corners, hands wandering under clothes. A few teachers were herding people toward the doors, but no one was in a rush to end it. The air still felt electric, charged with everything that had built up on the dance floor.

Morgan, Gwen, Liz, and MJ met near the punch table. No words were needed. The looks they shared said everything—the heat from the dances, the quick thrill of the takedown, the promise of what came next.

“Review room,” he said simply. “Usual spot. Now.”

The four of them slipped out together. The bass from the gym faded behind them as they headed down the quiet hallway toward the decathlon prep room they’d used a dozen times before. Their footsteps echoed softly. Liz walked close to Morgan, her hip brushing his with every step. MJ’s long legs carried her ahead a little, glancing back with a smirk. Gwen stayed right beside him, fingers occasionally brushing his arm, still buzzing from the quick takedown and the dancing.

The usual spot was at the end of the hall, past the lockers and around a corner no one really used at night. Morgan pushed the door open. The room was small and familiar—long table in the center, a few chairs pushed against the walls, whiteboard still covered in half-erased physics notes and strategy scribbles from last week’s practice. The lights were off except for the soft red glow from the emergency exit sign over the door. Enough to see everything they needed to see.

The door clicked shut behind them. Lock engaged with a solid thunk.

For a second they all just stood there, breathing the same charged air. The distant thump of the gym bass was barely audible now. Inside, the only sounds were their breathing and the faint rustle of dresses.

The room was small, familiar—long table in the center, a few chairs pushed against the walls, whiteboard still covered in half-erased physics notes from last week. The lights were off except for the soft red glow from the emergency exit sign over the door. Enough to see everything they needed to see.

Morgan turned to them. Gwen’s emerald dress, Liz’s blue one, MJ’s black. All three of them looking at him with the same heat.

“We’ve got time,” he said, voice low.

The tension snapped.

Morgan pulled Gwen in first, kissing her hard while his hands slid down the silk of her dress and grabbed two big handfuls of her ass. He squeezed the firm, powerful cheeks, fingers digging in as their tongues slid together, wet and hungry. Liz and MJ watched, breathing faster already, eyes dark with want.

Morgan broke the kiss, breathing rough, and looked at all three of them. “Clothes off. Keep the dresses if you want, but I want skin.”

Gwen reached back and unzipped herself. The emerald silk slid down her body like water, pooling at her feet. She was naked underneath except for a tiny black thong that was already soaked through, the dark wet spot obvious. Her tits were full and firm, nipples stiff and begging for attention. Her ass was round and powerful from all the training, thighs thick and toned. She stepped out of the dress and hooked her thumbs in the thong, sliding it slowly down her long legs. The fabric peeled away from her slick pussy with a wet sound.

“God, look at you,” Morgan murmured. “Already dripping for us.”

Liz went next, shimmying out of the blue dress with a little wiggle of her hips. Her body was softer, curvier—big, heavy tits that swayed heavily when she moved, wide hips, and a thick ass that jiggled slightly as she kicked the dress aside. Her nipples were darker, already hard and pointing straight out. “I’ve been wet since the dance,” she admitted, voice husky. “Watching you two… fuck, I need it.”

MJ stripped slower, letting the black dress drop inch by inch to reveal lean, athletic legs, a tight ass that flexed as she stepped free, and perky tits with small, sensitive nipples already tight. “Same,” MJ said, smirking. “Been thinking about this cock all night.”

All three of them stood there in just their heels and nothing else, looking at Morgan like they were starving.

He pulled his jacket off, then his shirt, tossing them onto a chair. His cock was already rock hard, straining against his pants. “Table first, Gwen.”

Gwen hopped up onto the long review table, legs spread wide. The wood was cool under her bare ass. Morgan stepped between her thighs, shoved them even wider, and rubbed the thick head of his cock up and down her soaked slit. She was dripping, slick coating his shaft instantly. “So fucking wet already,” he groaned. “This pussy is begging for it.”

He pushed in slow, stretching her open in one long stroke until his hips met her ass and his balls pressed against her. “Fuck,” Gwen groaned, head falling back. Her tits bounced as he started thrusting, steady and deep. The table creaked under them with every push. Morgan grabbed her hips and fucked her harder, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the small room. Smack-smack-smack. Her tits swayed heavily with every thrust, bouncing up and down in a hypnotic rhythm. He leaned down and sucked one stiff nipple into his mouth, biting just hard enough to make her moan louder, tongue flicking over the sensitive bud.

“Yes—fuck my pussy just like that,” Gwen gasped, one hand in his hair. “Suck my tits harder.”

Liz moved behind him, pressing her big soft tits against his back. The heavy, warm flesh molded to him as she reached around and rubbed Gwen’s clit in tight, slippery circles. “She’s so wet,” Liz whispered hotly in his ear. “I can hear how sloppy her cunt is for you.”

MJ watched from the side, one hand between her own legs, fingers circling her clit slowly, eyes locked on where Morgan’s cock disappeared into Gwen again and again. “Look at her take that dick,” MJ murmured. “So fucking greedy.”

Gwen came first—hard. Her pussy clenched around his cock like a fist, a hot rush of wetness soaking his balls and dripping down onto the table. She gasped and shook, thighs trembling around his waist, back arching so her tits pushed up toward the ceiling. “I’m cumming—fuck, I’m cumming on your cock!” she cried out. Morgan didn’t stop, just fucked her through it with deep, steady strokes until she was whimpering and twitching, pussy still fluttering around him.

He pulled out, cock shiny and throbbing, veins standing out. “Your turn, Liz. Bend over.”

Liz turned and braced her hands on the table, ass up. Her thick cheeks spread nicely as she arched her back, pussy glistening and ready. Morgan rubbed his cock between them, sliding the head up and down her slit, then pushed into her pussy in one smooth thrust. She was tighter than Gwen tonight, hotter, gripping him like she didn’t want to let go. “Oh god, you’re so big,” Liz moaned. “Stretch me—fuck me deep.”

He grabbed a handful of her thick ass and started pounding, watching the way her cheeks rippled and jiggled every time his hips smacked into her. Smack-smack-smack. The wet, filthy sounds of her pussy taking him filled the room—loud, squelching slaps mixed with her breathy moans.

“God, yes—harder,” Liz gasped. “Pound my pussy. I’ve been thinking about this all night.” Her heavy tits swung underneath her, nipples brushing the table with every thrust. Morgan reached around and grabbed one, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh while he fucked her, rolling the dark nipple between his fingers. Liz pushed back to meet him, ass rippling, pussy getting wetter with every deep stroke. “Don’t stop—fuck, I love how you fill me up.”

MJ couldn’t wait anymore. She climbed onto the table in front of Liz, spread her long legs wide, and pulled Liz’s face down between them. Liz started licking eagerly, tongue sliding over MJ’s clit and dipping inside her, moaning into her pussy while Morgan railed her from behind. MJ’s perky tits bounced as she rocked her hips against Liz’s mouth, one hand in Liz’s hair. “That’s it… just like that. Fuck, your tongue feels good. Eat my pussy while he fucks you.”

Morgan kept pounding Liz, hips slapping her thick ass, watching her cheeks ripple and jiggle. He reached forward and squeezed one of MJ’s perky tits, pinching the small nipple. “You look so hot getting your cunt licked,” he told MJ. The room was filled with wet sounds—cock sliding in and out of Liz’s dripping pussy, Liz’s tongue working MJ’s clit, skin slapping skin, and three sets of moans mixing together.

Liz came hard around his cock, pussy clamping down and gushing. She moaned loudly into MJ’s pussy, thighs shaking as her walls squeezed and fluttered. A hot rush of wetness soaked Morgan’s balls and dripped down onto the table. “I’m cumming again—fuck, don’t stop!” Morgan fucked her through it with deep, steady strokes, drawing out every spasm until Liz was whimpering and twitching, her thick ass still pushed back against him.

Morgan pulled out of Liz, cock glistening with her slick. He moved to MJ. He flipped her onto her back on the table, hooked her long legs over his shoulders, and sank back inside her in one smooth thrust. This angle let him hit deep, bottoming out with every stroke. MJ’s tight body took every inch, her pussy gripping him like a hot fist.

“Fuck yes,” MJ groaned, eyes rolling back. “So deep—god, you’re hitting everything.”

Her small perky tits jiggled with each thrust, nipples tight and bouncing. Gwen and Liz took turns sucking on her nipples and kissing her while Morgan fucked her steady and hard. Gwen leaned down and sucked one sensitive bud into her mouth, tongue flicking fast. “You look so good getting fucked like this,” Gwen murmured around her nipple. Liz kissed MJ deep, swallowing her moans, then pulled back just enough to whisper, “Your pussy is creaming all over his cock. I can hear how wet you are.”

“Harder,” MJ gasped between kisses. “Fuck me harder—make me feel it tomorrow.” Morgan obliged, hips slapping against her ass with wet smacks. MJ’s long legs shook in the air, heels still on, as he drove into her. The table creaked under them. MJ’s perky tits jiggled faster, the soft flesh moving with every powerful thrust. She moaned into Liz’s mouth, back arching, pussy getting wetter.

“Shit, you’re squeezing me so tight,” Morgan groaned, hips snapping forward. “This pussy is fucking greedy tonight.”

MJ came with a sharp cry, pussy fluttering hard around him, legs shaking in the air. “I’m cumming—fuck, don’t stop!” Her walls squeezed rhythmically, milking his cock as a fresh gush of wetness coated him. Morgan kept thrusting through it, drawing it out until she was gasping and trembling, whispering “so good… so fucking deep” over and over.

They moved again. Morgan sat in one of the sturdy chairs. Gwen straddled him reverse, facing away, and sank down onto his cock. Her powerful ass flexed as she rode him, cheeks rippling every time she dropped down. The firm, round globes clapped against his thighs with wet smacks. He spread her with both hands, thumbs pulling her cheeks apart so he could watch his thick cock disappear between them, stretching her pussy wide.

“Ride that dick,” Morgan growled, slapping her ass lightly. “Show me how bad you want it.”

Gwen moaned, bouncing harder. “It feels so good—fuck, I love how you fill me up.” Liz knelt between his legs and licked where they were joined, tongue sliding over his balls and Gwen’s clit in long, sloppy strokes. “Tastes like both of you,” Liz murmured, licking faster. MJ stood beside them, making out with Gwen, hands mauling her swaying tits, squeezing the full flesh and pinching her stiff nipples.

“These tits are perfect,” MJ breathed, rolling Gwen’s nipples. “Bounce them for me while you fuck him.”

Gwen’s second orgasm hit her like a wave. She slammed down hard, ass clapping against his thighs, pussy gushing around his cock. “I’m cumming—oh god, I’m cumming so hard on your cock!” Her powerful cheeks rippled and flexed as she ground in tight circles, milking him. Morgan groaned and held her down, grinding up into her, feeling her walls spasm.

They weren’t even close to finished.

Next Morgan had Liz on her back on the table again, legs spread wide in a deep V. He fucked her in long, rolling strokes, hips circling as he drove deep. Her big, heavy tits bounced and slapped together with every thrust, the soft flesh jiggling and rippling. Gwen straddled Liz’s face, grinding her wet pussy against her mouth while Morgan pounded away. Liz licked eagerly, tongue sliding deep and flicking over Gwen’s clit.

“Eat her good,” Morgan told Liz, voice rough. “Make her cum on your tongue while I fuck this tight pussy.”

Liz moaned into Gwen’s cunt and doubled her efforts, sucking harder on her clit, tongue flicking fast and sloppy. “Mmmph—yes, give me that pussy,” she mumbled between licks. Gwen came again, thighs clamping around Liz’s head, hips jerking as she rode her face. “Fuck, Liz—your tongue is amazing,” Gwen gasped, tits bouncing wildly. Morgan felt Liz’s walls flutter and tighten around him as she came too, a hot rush soaking his cock and dripping down onto the table in messy streaks. Her thick thighs trembled in the wide V, ass rippling every time he bottomed out with a wet smack.

“Keep licking—don’t stop,” Gwen moaned, grinding down harder. “I’m gonna cum again on your face.”

The wet, filthy rhythm continued, bodies moving together in the dim room, skin slick with sweat, moans mixing with the creak of the table. Morgan kept thrusting into Liz, drawing out her orgasm until she was whimpering into Gwen’s pussy. He finally pulled out, cock shiny and throbbing, and stepped back.

MJ was waiting, eyes dark. Morgan moved to her and lifted one of her long legs, hooking it over his hip. He drove up into her against the wall. She was light and strong, taking him deep while her back pressed to the cinderblock. Her perky tits bounced right in front of his face—he sucked and bit at her nipples while he fucked her with short, powerful thrusts. Gwen and Liz dropped to their knees beside them, licking his balls and the base of his cock whenever he pulled back, tongues sliding everywhere, wet and eager.

“Deeper,” MJ gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. “Fuck my pussy like you mean it. I want to feel you tomorrow.”

Morgan kept thrusting through it, feeling her walls flutter and pulse. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned. “Gonna make this cunt cum again.”

MJ came hard, nails digging into his shoulders, a low broken moan spilling out of her. “Yes—right there, I’m cumming!” Her pussy squeezed him rhythmically, milking every inch as her long leg shook against his hip. Morgan kept thrusting through it, feeling her walls flutter and pulse.

Morgan sat back in the chair again. All three women climbed on. Gwen straddled his cock facing him, sinking down and starting to ride. Her powerful ass slapped his thighs with every bounce, cheeks rippling. Liz and MJ pressed in on either side, tits against his chest and face. He sucked on their nipples while Gwen bounced on him, her ass slapping his thighs in a steady rhythm. Then they switched—Liz took his cock for a few deep bounces, her thick ass jiggling as she rode, heavy tits swaying in his face. “Fuck, you’re so deep,” Liz moaned. MJ went next, her long legs braced on the chair arms as she sank down, tight pussy gripping him while her perky tits bounced. “Yes—fill me up,” MJ gasped. Then back to Gwen. Hands were everywhere—squeezing tits, grabbing asses, fingers rubbing clits. The chair creaked under all the movement.

The smell was thick now—sweaty skin, dripping pussy, the sharp tang of sex hanging heavy in the small room. Breasts swayed and slapped together with every movement. Asses rippled and jiggled under gripping hands. Wet, filthy sounds filled the space: schlick-schlick-schlick of cock sliding in and out of soaked pussy, skin slapping skin, breathy moans and gasps mixing together.

Gwen came again riding him reverse, grinding down hard and shaking. Her powerful ass flexed and rippled as she worked her pussy around his cock in tight, desperate circles. The firm cheeks clapped loudly against his thighs with every drop — clap-clap-clap — the wet sound echoing in the small room. She was soaked, her juices coating his balls and dripping down his thighs. Morgan felt his own orgasm building fast, a heavy pressure at the base of his spine. He grabbed her hips with both hands and thrust up into her, fucking her through it. Gwen moaned loud, back arching, tits bouncing heavily as her walls clamped down and milked him in strong, rhythmic pulses.

“Fuck… I’m cumming again,” she gasped, voice breaking. “Fill me up… please…”

Thick spurts of cum flooded her pussy, pulse after pulse filling her until it started leaking out around his shaft. Morgan groaned deep in his chest, hips jerking as he pumped her full. When she finally lifted off on shaky legs, it dripped down his cock in creamy white strands, mixing with her own wetness in messy, glistening strings that stretched and broke.

Liz and MJ immediately leaned in like they’d been waiting for it.

Liz licked up the underside of his cock first, tongue flat and slow, dragging from his balls all the way to the head. She moaned softly at the taste, eyes half-lidded. “Mmm… you two taste so fucking good together,” she murmured, voice husky. She swirled her tongue around the head, sucking gently on the sensitive tip to get every drop, then licked back down, cleaning the creamy mix from his shaft.

MJ went straight for Gwen’s messy pussy. She pushed Gwen’s thighs wider, buried her face between them, and sucked the cum that was still leaking out. Her tongue dipped inside, scooping it out with wet, obscene sounds. “God, she’s so full of you,” MJ groaned against Gwen’s folds, the vibration making Gwen twitch. “Tastes even better when it’s leaking out like this.”

Their tongues met on his shaft. Liz and MJ kissed sloppily around his cock, lips brushing, tongues sliding together in wet, filthy kisses. They shared the taste between them — creamy cum, Gwen’s slick, and the salty musk of his skin. Liz sucked one side of his cock while MJ licked the other, their mouths meeting at the head in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Strings of cum and spit connected their lips when they pulled apart for a breath.

“Share it with me,” Liz whispered, voice breathy. She leaned in and kissed MJ deeper, tongues tangling, swapping the mixed taste. A soft moan vibrated between them. MJ pulled back just enough to lick a thick strand of cum from the corner of Liz’s mouth, then dove back down to suck more from Gwen’s dripping pussy.

Gwen was still trembling, watching them with heavy-lidded eyes. “You two look so fucking hot cleaning him up,” she breathed, one hand in MJ’s hair, the other squeezing her own tit.

Liz smiled against Morgan’s cock, licking slower now, savoring. “He tastes better when he’s been inside you.” She sucked the head into her mouth again, hollowing her cheeks, then popped off with a wet sound and offered it to MJ. MJ took him deep for a moment, throat working, before they both licked down to his balls together. Their tongues slid over the sensitive skin, sucking gently, moaning softly as they cleaned every inch.

“More,” MJ murmured, pushing her face back between Gwen’s thighs. She licked and sucked noisily, tongue fucking into her to get the rest of Morgan’s load. When she pulled back, her lips were shiny and swollen. She kissed Liz again, letting her taste it straight from her tongue. “Swallow it with me.”

They made out sloppily right above his cock, tongues visible, cum swapping between their mouths. Soft, wet sounds filled the air — kissing, licking, moaning. A thin string of mixed fluids dripped from Liz’s chin onto Morgan’s thigh. MJ licked it up immediately, then went back for more on his cock.

“Fuck, you’re both so greedy,” Morgan groaned, voice rough. His cock twitched hard between their faces.

Liz looked up at him with shiny lips, smiling. “We have to make sure you’re nice and clean for the next one.” She gave his cock one last long, slow lick from base to tip, then kissed the head sweetly.

MJ wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning. “She’s still dripping. You really filled her up.”

They weren’t done.

Morgan bent Liz over the table again. She braced her hands on the wood, thick ass pushed out, back arched deep. He rubbed the head of his still-hard cock between her cheeks, teasing her tight hole, then pushed in slow. Liz moaned loud at the stretch, pushing back against him until he was buried deep in her ass. The soft, heavy cheeks jiggled with every inch he sank in. Once he bottomed out, he grabbed two big handfuls of her ass and started thrusting—steady at first, then harder. Her thick cheeks rippled and bounced under his hands, the flesh shaking with every slap of his hips. The tight heat around his cock was incredible, gripping him like a vice.

Gwen and MJ dropped down on either side of her. They played with Liz’s swinging tits, squeezing the heavy flesh, rolling and pinching her dark nipples until Liz was gasping and moaning. Gwen sucked one nipple hard, lips sealed tight, tongue flicking fast while her teeth grazed the sensitive bud. MJ licked the other, slow and wet, swirling around it before sucking it deep into her mouth. Liz’s ass clenched tighter around Morgan’s cock with every tug on her tits, the tight ring squeezing him rhythmically.

“Fuck… it’s so full,” Liz gasped, pushing back to meet every thrust. “Your cock in my ass feels so fucking good. Don’t stop—harder.” Her heavy tits swayed and slapped together under her, nipples glistening from mouths and spit. Morgan reached around and rubbed her clit in firm circles while he pounded her ass. The wet, filthy sounds grew louder—his hips slapping her thick cheeks, her pussy dripping steadily onto the floor.

Liz came again hard, ass clenching rhythmically around his cock, a fresh gush of wetness dripping down her thighs onto the floor. “I’m cumming—oh shit, I’m cumming so hard,” she moaned, voice breaking. She shook and pushed back desperately for more even as her orgasm ripped through her, thighs trembling, ass pulsing around him in strong waves.

Morgan kept thrusting through it, savoring the way her ass pulsed and squeezed him like it was trying to pull him deeper. “That’s it, squeeze my cock just like that,” he groaned, hips slapping louder against her jiggling cheeks. He only pulled out when she started to go limp, her thick ass still rippling and jiggling from the force of it, a thin string of her wetness connecting them for a second before breaking.

He switched to MJ’s ass next. He pressed her against the wall, lifted one of her long legs high, and hooked it over his hip. MJ stood on tiptoes, back arched, pushing her tight ass back against him. “Come on,” she breathed, voice rough. “Put it in my ass. I want it deep.” He rubbed his cock against her hole, then slid in slow. She took him deep, her long legs shaking as he bottomed out. The position let him fuck her with short, powerful thrusts, driving up into her. Her tight ass gripped him perfectly, cheeks flexing around his shaft.

“Fuck yes,” MJ moaned, nails digging into the wall. “Stretch me. I love how thick you feel back there.” Gwen knelt underneath them, licking MJ’s clit and Morgan’s balls with long, wet strokes every time he pulled back. MJ’s perky tits bounced right in front of Morgan’s face. He sucked hard on one nipple, then the other, biting gently while he fucked her ass. “Bite harder—yes, like that,” MJ gasped, her long legs trembling harder on tiptoes. Her moans got louder and more broken. “Gwen, don’t stop licking my clit. I’m so close already.”

Gwen’s tongue worked faster, licking everywhere they were joined, sucking on his balls and flicking MJ’s clit. MJ came hard, nails digging into his shoulders, a low broken moan spilling out of her. “I’m cumming—fuck, I’m cumming in my ass.” Her tight ass pulsed and squeezed around his cock in strong waves. Her long leg shook violently against his hip. She almost collapsed, knees buckling, but Morgan held her up, still buried deep, grinding through her orgasm until she was gasping and twitching, whispering “so full… so fucking full” over and over.

Finally he had Gwen again. He laid her on her back on the table and pushed her legs up toward her shoulders, folding her in half. He sank back into her pussy deep and hard. The table creaked loudly under them with every thrust. Gwen’s tits bounced wildly, full and firm, nipples stiff. He fucked her like that, deep and relentless, watching her face twist in pleasure. “You feel so good,” Gwen moaned, eyes rolling back. “Fuck me deeper—fill me up again.”

Then he pulled out at the last second and came across her tits and stomach in long, thick ropes. The cum splattered over her skin, dripping down the curves of her breasts and pooling on her stomach in warm, sticky puddles.

Liz and MJ immediately leaned in, licking every drop off her skin. Their tongues slid over Gwen’s nipples, across her stomach, sharing the cum in messy, open-mouthed kisses. “Mmm, he tastes so good on you,” Liz murmured, sucking a thick strand from Gwen’s nipple before kissing MJ so they could swap it. Soft moans and wet sucking sounds filled the room as they cleaned her thoroughly, tongues flicking and lips pressing together, making sure not a drop was wasted.

The four of them ended up in a sweaty, sticky pile on the table and chairs—breathing hard, bodies glistening with sweat and cum. Cum leaked slowly down thighs. Tits and asses were flushed red from hands, mouths, and slapping skin. The room smelled like pure sex—thick, musky, and completely filthy.

Morgan ran a hand down Gwen’s back, then over Liz’s thick ass, then along MJ’s thigh.

“Best Homecoming yet,” he said, voice rough.

Gwen laughed breathlessly. “We’re definitely doing this again.”

Liz just hummed happily, nuzzling into Morgan’s chest. MJ smirked, already looking like she was ready for round two.

Outside, the gym music was still playing, but in here the night was just getting started.

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