In the Morning Afterglow

Content warning: this story depicts an MMF threesome between a cis woman, a trans man and a cis man. "Feminine" words are used to describe the trans man's genitalia. Fisting is described in this story. If this is not your thing please move on.

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Sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, casting warm streaks over the bed where Anna and Wolf lay entangled. Her hand rested lightly on his chest, fingers idly tracing the lines of muscle, rising and falling with his breath. He stirred slightly, and she smiled to herself, nuzzling in closer.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she whispered against his neck.

Wolf made a soft, contented noise in response, not quite ready to open his eyes yet. Anna's fingers wandered slowly, tenderly, like she was learning him all over again, massaging little knots in his shoulders, working her way down his spine. He melted under her touch, sighing deeper into the mattress, eyelids fluttering open just a little.

Her hand slipped lower, fingertips brushing the swell of his ass before dipping between his thighs, parting him just slightly. Her touch was slow, deliberate--nothing to chase, just the gentle attention of someone who wanted to make him feel worshipped. She slid a finger along his folds, slick from sleep and softness, and began massaging him there. Circling, teasing, pressing in a little, pulling back.

Wolf exhaled deeply, a low hum of pleasure vibrating in his throat. He rolled slightly toward her, letting her have access, not needing anything more than what she was giving.

"You're magic," he murmured.

Anna smiled and kissed his jaw. "Just enjoying the view."

She kept it slow, dragging it out like the morning itself--no pressure, no urgency. Just the wet, warm sounds of her fingers gliding against his cunt and the steady rhythm of their breathing.

Eventually, she slowed, letting her hand rest still against him. "You hungry?" she asked with a small smile, brushing hair back from his forehead.

Wolf blinked at her, dazed in the best way. "I could eat."

She smirked, pulling the sheets back and slipping out of bed. "I was thinking shower first. Then coffee. Then maybe that joint I saw in Tristan's kitchen drawer."

He groaned happily. "It's like you're reading my mind."

She turned, giving his ass a playful swat before heading to the bathroom. "Come on, dreamboat. Let's rinse off and make ourselves decent before we ruin Tristan's appetite."

Wolf watched her go, still basking in the afterglow of her touch, then swung his legs over the side of the bed with a sleepy grin.

The bathroom was warm with soft steam from the water Anna had already turned on. Morning light streamed in through the frosted window, casting blurred shadows on the tiles. She was standing beneath the spray when Wolf stepped in, his bare feet quiet on the cool floor.

Anna turned, her hair already wet and sticking in dark waves to her back. "There you are," she said softly, her smile radiant in the rising mist.

Wolf stepped into the shower, letting the water hit his shoulders, and they both sighed at the same time--Anna laughing gently as she reached for him. He leaned into her arms, his forehead resting against her collarbone. The water pattered around them as her hands moved slowly over his back, up his spine, over his shoulders. Just touch--no urgency, no heat--only the kind of intimacy that asked for nothing in return.

"Feels good," he murmured against her skin.

"I like touching you like this," she replied, reaching for the gentle body wash on the shelf. She poured some into her palms and began working it into his skin, circling over his chest, his arms, his hips.

Wolf closed his eyes and let himself be taken care of. Her hands moved with care, lathering him slowly, pausing at the curve of his waist, the line of his thighs. She washed him like it mattered, like it meant something.

He took the bottle from her when she was done, and without a word, returned the gesture. She tilted her chin up, her eyes soft, and let him touch her in the same way. His palms skimmed her curves, smoothing soap over the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the strong lines of her thighs. It wasn't sexual, not in the way it had been the night before. It was reverent. Simple. Human.

They rinsed off slowly, trading little smiles, glances, lazy touches.

"Do you feel more awake?" Anna asked, brushing his wet hair back and kissing his forehead.

"Yeah," Wolf said quietly, "but also like I could stay in here with you forever."

Anna chuckled and pinched his side gently. "We'll turn into prunes."

They stepped out together, wrapping themselves in towels, drying each other's skin like it was a shared ritual. When they were done, Anna reached for his hand and laced their fingers together.

"Let's find Tristan," she said, her voice warm. "I'm sure he's made something ridiculous for breakfast."

Wolf grinned. "As long as there's coffee."

They padded out of the bathroom hand in hand, the warmth of the shower still lingering between them.

The scent of dark roast coffee and sizzling butter rolled through the apartment, drifting lazily down the hallway. Morning light slanted in through the blinds, catching dust motes in its glow and warming the pale tile floor.

Tristan was already at the stove, barefoot in a pair of loose shorts, humming something upbeat while flipping pancakes like he was born doing it. A joint rested behind one ear, forgotten for now.

Anna padded in first, damp hair loose around her shoulders, wearing one of Wolf's tees knotted casually at the waist. She looked soft and flushed, like the afterglow still lingered on her skin. Wolf followed a moment later, sleep-ruffled and bare-chested, his body moving with that grounded, masculine ease that never seemed performative--just natural.

"You're up early for someone who swore they needed to recharge their soul after last night," Wolf murmured, voice still husky from sleep.

Tristan glanced over his shoulder, flipping a pancake with a bit too much flair. "I am recharging. With pancakes. And maybe a little ego boost."

Wolf snorted and walked past him, casually smacking Tristan's ass as he did. "More like ego inflation. You keep this up, you're gonna float away."

Tristan grinned and gave him a sharp slap in return. "You like it."

Wolf raised an eyebrow without turning around. "Didn't say I didn't."

Anna snickered as she grabbed mugs from the cabinet. "Should I leave you two alone?"

Tristan leaned in, whispering dramatically to her, "He's obsessed with me."

"Deeply," Wolf added dryly, reaching for the coffee pot. Their hands brushed. Anna didn't move hers right away, and when she did, her fingers lingered. She tucked her hair behind one ear, smiling in that quiet way she had--just for him.

"Morning," she said softly.

"Hey," Wolf replied, eyes locked on hers. The way he said it made it feel like he was still waking up, but only to her.

Tristan pretended to gag. "Ugh. The smolder. You two are unbearable."

Anna turned and stuck out her tongue at him before sliding onto a stool. "Says the man who narrated his own orgasm last night like it was a dramatic monologue."

"I am the drama," Tristan said, plating the last pancake. "And you're just mad I made Wolf whimper."

Wolf rolled his eyes but couldn't help the crooked grin. "You got one whimper. Maybe two."

"I counted three," Tristan replied, sliding a plate in front of him. "And I made breakfast, so don't test me."

Anna laughed, accepting her plate. She reached out and gently brushed a crumb from Tristan's cheek before flicking his nose. "You're so annoying."

He kissed the back of her hand, eyes warm. "You adore me."

"Unfortunately."

They shared a look--years of friendship condensed into a heartbeat. It wasn't flirty, not really. Just deep and familiar and full of love.

Wolf watched it, amused. "You two are like an old married couple."

Anna shrugged. "He's the wife."

Tristan raised a brow. "Please. I'm the emotionally unavailable husband who gets custody of the dog in the breakup."

Wolf leaned back in his chair, sipping coffee, his thigh brushing Anna's under the table. She didn't move away. If anything, she angled slightly toward him. He noticed. Of course he did.

"You two always this exhausting in the morning?" he asked.

"Only when we're happy," Anna replied.

Tristan slid into the seat across from them, sipping his coffee like he was watching a private show. "And I have to say, watching you two flirt like teenagers is better than any porn I've seen lately."

"We're not flirting," Anna said, all innocent.

Wolf smiled into his mug. "No. Definitely not."

Tristan raised both brows. "Sure. That's why her foot's between your thighs right now."

Anna kicked him gently under the table.

"See?" he said, smug. "Violent affection. Classic sign of love."

They all laughed. Easy, loose, with the kind of warmth that stuck to the skin long after. Outside, the world was still waking up. But here, in this kitchen, it already felt like a good day.

Tristan's apartment was one of those rare places that felt like a lived-in sanctuary--half jungle, half den of delightful sin. The sliding doors to the garden were pushed all the way open, letting the warm morning air roll in. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of tall trees and overgrown herbs, dappling the worn floorboards and casting soft, shifting shadows across the space. A breeze brought in the faint scent of rosemary and damp soil, carrying birdsong and the occasional buzz of a bee.

They'd drifted from the kitchen to the sun-warmed couch like it was the most natural thing in the world, coffee mugs still in hand. The couch was oversized, sun-faded, and lived-in like everything else in Tristan's home, draped with blankets and mismatched cushions. Wolf had settled in the corner, legs spread in loose cotton fold pants that hung low on his hips--clearly nothing underneath. His chest was bare, still kissed by sleep and Anna's fingertips.

Anna curled up beside him, bare legs tucked up beneath her, the hem of his oversized t-shirt barely covering anything. One of her hands idly traced circles on his thigh, innocent enough... for now. Her head rested on his shoulder. She looked completely at peace.

Tristan was sprawled across the other end of the couch, one leg thrown over the armrest, his shorts riding up obscenely. Also commando. Naturally. He lit the joint and took a slow pull before passing it across to Anna.

"You really outdid yourself," Wolf said, exhaling coffee-scented breath as he leaned back. "This place is unreal."

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "You finally noticing? I've only been cultivating this particular aesthetic for years."

Anna blew smoke toward the ceiling and passed the joint to Wolf. "It's true. He's very proud of his curated chaos."

Wolf took a hit, eyes half-lidded as the smoke settled low in his lungs. "It's a vibe. Plants, sunlight, soft places to fuck..."

Tristan lifted his mug in salute. "All part of the design."

Anna grinned, turning slightly to drape a leg over Wolf's lap, settling into him like she belonged there. The fabric of her borrowed shirt slipped off one shoulder, revealing the curve of her neck and a spray of faint freckles that caught the sun.

Tristan noticed. Of course he did.

"So," he drawled, "is this the part where I get to sit back and watch the two of you fall in love in my living room?"

Anna didn't even look at him. "Only if you're quiet."

Wolf chuckled, eyes dropping to the smooth skin of her thigh resting against his. "He won't be."

Tristan grinned. "Not a chance."

The joint made another lazy circle. Time seemed to stretch, sweet and slow. Wolf's hand landed on Anna's calf, his thumb moving idly. She shifted her hips a little, the movement subtle, suggestive. He felt the press of her against his side. The tension was soft but building, humming in the space between touches.

Tristan stretched like a cat, letting his fingertips trail over the back of Anna's ankle as he passed her. "You two are magnetic."

"You're just jealous," Anna teased.

"I'm always jealous," Tristan replied with a mock sigh. "So much beauty, and none of it is mine."

Wolf gave him a sidelong glance. "Didn't seem like you were suffering last night."

Tristan smirked. "Touché."

Anna leaned closer to Wolf, her voice quieter now. "You okay?"

He nodded, leaning his head back and letting his eyes fall closed for a moment. "Yeah. Just... this is nice."

She smiled and tucked her face into his shoulder. "Yeah. It is."

Tristan got up to grab more coffee, and the moment he stepped out of the room, Anna shifted slightly, her hand sliding further up Wolf's thigh. Still slow. Still soft. But purposeful.

"We don't have to do anything," she whispered, brushing her lips against his shoulder. "I just like being close to you."

Wolf turned to look at her, his hand settling gently at the small of her back. "I like it too."

The breeze stirred the curtains. Somewhere outside, a wind chime sang.

Anna's fingertips curled lightly around the waistband of his pants, her thumb brushing the bare skin just beneath. She tilted her head up to meet his eyes.

"Want to take this slow?" she asked, the heat in her voice wrapped in tenderness.

Wolf smiled, brushing his nose against hers. "With you? Yeah. I really do."

Just then, Tristan returned, two steaming mugs in hand and a fresh joint tucked behind his ear.

"I missed something, didn't I?"

Anna leaned back with a smirk. "Nope. Just breathing."

Tristan handed out the mugs and plopped back onto the couch, taking in the two of them with a pleased sigh.

"God, I love mornings like this."

The late morning haze had settled in like a blanket--coffee half-finished, sunlight stretched long and lazy across the living room, the joint making its gentle rounds again. Anna shifted where she sat beside Wolf, her leg still draped over his. One of her hands traced aimless shapes along his thigh, just beneath the soft cotton of his pants.

Tristan had sunk into the adjacent armchair with a paperback cracked open on his lap, legs spread comfortably wide, the hem of his loose shorts threatening to reveal more than modesty allowed. He wasn't really reading--every so often his eyes flicked up over the pages, watching Anna and Wolf from beneath his lashes, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

Wolf passed him the joint, then leaned back with a soft sigh, his head resting against the back of the couch. The breeze drifted in again through the open doors, warm and sweet with the scent of green things growing.

Anna let her fingers ghost higher, brushing over the waistband of Wolf's pants, which had already started to slide lower on his hips. She tugged lightly at the fold--just enough to loosen it--and let the fabric part. The folds of soft cotton spread slightly, revealing the warm expanse of skin beneath, the gentle rise and fall of his breath.

Her hand remained light, just exploring, drawing idle lines along the skin just inside his hipbone.

"You're being a menace," Wolf murmured, not opening his eyes.

"I'm being tender," Anna whispered, kissing his shoulder. "You just happen to be extremely distracting."

Wolf chuckled under his breath, then reached for the tray on the table in front of them and lazily started to roll another joint. His fingers worked the paper and flower with practiced ease, even as Anna's touch skimmed lower, teasing the edge of his cunt with a feather-light stroke.

"You're both being extremely distracting," Tristan chimed in from behind his book, though his eyes didn't leave the page.

"You don't have to look," Wolf offered, licking the edge of the paper before sealing the joint.

Tristan peeked over his book. "Please. I live for this."

Anna grinned, still focused on Wolf. Her fingers dipped slightly lower, parting him gently, stroking slowly over the slick heat she found there. She kept it light, almost playful, like she was just exploring for her own curiosity, not even aiming toward anything more. Not yet.

Wolf sighed through his nose, blinking his eyes open. He lit the fresh joint, took a drag, and passed it toward Tristan without looking.

"You're gonna spoil me," he murmured, eyes flicking to Anna.

"That's kind of the point," she said, voice low, her fingers stroking in a slow rhythm that had him twitching slightly under her hand. His pants were still technically on, but only just--resting open around his thighs like they were an afterthought, his whole body warm and exposed to the touch of her affection.

Tristan reached over to grab the joint, flipping his book closed for now, though he kept it resting on his thigh. "You look good like this," he said to Wolf, voice lazy, admiring. "You always do when you're just letting it happen."

Wolf's gaze flicked over to him, amused. "Getting sentimental on me already?"

Tristan shrugged one bare shoulder. "Maybe. It's the joint. Or the view."

Anna ducked her head to kiss the side of Wolf's neck, her hand never stopping its slow exploration. She seemed content to just touch him like this, draw him open, keep him floating.

"You're wet already," she whispered, lips brushing his skin.

Wolf tilted his head back with a soft exhale. "You're not exactly being subtle."

"I'm not trying to be," she smiled, nuzzling him. "I just like the way you feel under my hands."

Wolf's body was a study in contrast--strong lines, steady breath, a lazy sprawl that belied the slow-building heat under his skin. He wasn't rushing anything. Neither was she. But he shifted slightly, letting his legs fall further apart, giving her more space to play.

Tristan made a soft, appreciative noise. "God, the two of you are fucking poetry."

"Read your book, voyeur," Wolf said with a grin.

Tristan grinned back, took a drag from the joint, and leaned back again, watching them over the curve of his mug. "Only if you give me another chapter."

Anna's fingers moved with reverent care, gliding through the slick heat of Wolf's cunt. She circled his clit with slow, deliberate strokes, then dipped her fingers lower, parting him just enough to feel the soft pulse of him under her touch. Her other hand rested on his thigh, steadying herself, like she was anchoring both of them in the moment.

Wolf leaned deeper into the couch cushions, completely at ease. The joint burned between his fingers, his breath slow and even as he exhaled a thin stream of smoke that curled upward through the sunlit air. His head lolled to the side, eyes half-lidded, lips parted in a quiet sigh.

"You feel so fucking good," Anna whispered, more to herself than anyone else. Her voice was breathy, full of awe and arousal. "I could touch you all day."

He didn't answer--just hummed low in his throat, hips giving the smallest roll into her hand. The lazy pace was perfect. The warmth of her palm against his inner thigh, the gentle strokes, the press of her fingers that never pushed too far. It was pure sensation, without any urgency, and he was sinking into it like honey.

Tristan sat sprawled in the armchair, shirtless now, a second joint between his fingers. He'd been quietly observing, one leg draped over the armrest, his other foot on the floor, lazily stroking his own thigh. His gaze flicked from Anna's face to Wolf's body, then back again.

"She really likes touching you," he said, voice smooth and low, the hint of a smirk at the edges.

Anna didn't look up. "I can't help it."

"You shouldn't help it." Tristan's tone deepened, slow and deliberate, drawing out each word like a thought he was tasting. "Spread him open for me a little more. Let me see what you're doing."

Anna's breath hitched, but she obeyed. She shifted slightly, using her fingers to part Wolf's lips and expose his cunt more fully to the sunlight--and to Tristan's hungry gaze. Her other hand continued its slow circles over his clit, now slick with arousal, glinting in the light.

Wolf didn't flinch or resist. He took another drag, exhaled. "Is this the part where you start giving us direction?" he asked, his voice a soft drawl.

Tristan grinned. "Maybe. You don't seem to mind."

"I don't," Wolf murmured. His hips rolled again, just slightly, like punctuation.

"Good." Tristan sat forward a bit, his eyes never leaving them. "Now take two fingers and push them inside him, slow. Let him feel you."

Anna's hand obeyed before her brain caught up. She slipped two fingers inside Wolf with practiced ease, her breath catching at how he clenched around her. Her eyes lifted briefly to Tristan's, then back down, as if she didn't want to miss a second of the way Wolf's body responded.

Wolf let out a soft groan, letting his legs fall open wider, one knee pressed against the couch back, the other hanging over the edge, hips tilted just right to give them both a perfect view.

Tristan leaned back again, slowly stroking the growing bulge in his shorts. "That's it," he murmured. "Show me how you fuck him. Go slow. Let him open up around you."

Anna curled her fingers gently, feeling the way Wolf arched into it, his breathing changing, his lips parting with the faintest gasp. She adjusted her angle, brushing over that tender, sweet spot inside him, watching the way his abs tensed in response.

Wolf's eyes fluttered shut again. "Fuck, Anna..."

"I love the way you sound," she whispered. "You're so easy to read."

"He's always been good at letting go," Tristan said, thumb now circling the head of his cock through his shorts. "Especially when he's high and you make him feel good. Keep going."

Anna's fingers were soaked, gliding in and out of Wolf with a pace that stayed slow, sensual, indulgent. Her other hand never left his clit, circling, pressing, keeping him simmering--never boiling over. Wolf's body lay open and relaxed, draped across the couch like some decadent offering, the thin fold of his pants pooled low on his hips, barely clinging to his thighs.

He took another drag from his joint, letting the smoke curl out of his mouth with a soft sigh, eyes nearly closed, mouth slack with pleasure.

Tristan watched from the armchair, his shorts doing nothing to hide the thick outline of his hard cock. The air between them was thick--smoke, heat, the faint scent of sex and sweat. The whole apartment felt like it was breathing slower with them.

"Anna," Tristan said, his voice low but clear.

She looked up, her fingers pausing instinctively.

"Spread him wider. I want to see all of him."

Anna let out a small breath and shifted, settling between Wolf's thighs. She pushed his knees open more, letting his legs fall wide. The last folds of his pants bunched around his knees, and she made no move to remove them--just enough to frame him, to hold him there.

"Good," Tristan said. "Now show me how open he is for you."

Anna slid her fingers back inside, curling slightly, and with her other hand, she used her thumb to gently pull him open--exposing the way Wolf's cunt gripped and pulsed around her. The light from the open slider windows cast dappled shadows across his skin, his chest rising and falling slowly, mouth parted in a soft moan.

"He's so wet," Anna said softly, like she was confessing it.

"Of course he is," Tristan murmured. "He loves being watched."

Wolf groaned quietly, not protesting. His hips shifted slightly, instinctively pressing into the feeling of being displayed.

"Now show me his clit," Tristan said, his tone sharper now, more precise. "Make it pretty for me."

Anna obeyed without hesitation. She withdrew her fingers slowly, using both hands now--one to gently part his lips, the other to press up on the hood, exposing the slick, swollen head beneath. She held it there, glistening in the sunlight, framed between her fingers like a gift.

"There," she whispered, voice full of something reverent.

Tristan exhaled deeply, hand running slowly down his chest to the bulge in his shorts. "Fuck, look at you, Wolf. You're perfect."

Wolf let out a soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a chuckle. "You two are gonna kill me."

Anna leaned in and kissed his thigh, then let her lips brush up to the crease of his hip, never quite touching where he wanted. Her fingers stayed in place, holding him open for Tristan's gaze.

Tristan's voice dropped lower. "Now grab his clit, gently. Play with it--make him feel how exposed he is. Let him squirm for us."

Anna's fingers moved delicately, taking the exposed head between two fingers, rolling it just slightly, flicking it with soft precision. Wolf's breath stuttered, hips twitching despite himself. His hand twitched toward his own body, then dropped again, giving in.

"Good boy," Tristan murmured. "Don't touch. Just feel."

Anna was grinning now, caught somewhere between awe and arousal, drunk on the power of it. Her other hand crept back between Wolf's legs, fingers dipping inside again, gently working him open while her thumb kept teasing that swollen clit.

"You're dripping," she whispered, voice thick. "You like being shown off like this?"

Wolf's answer came in the form of a soft, helpless sound, his head falling back, eyes closed, body trembling on the edge but held there.

Tristan shifted in his chair, free hand now tugging his waistband lower. "You're going to stay like that for a while," he said, voice rough with control. "Open. Obedient. Fucking beautiful."

Tristan slid closer to them on the couch, his body loose and relaxed, but his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Anna," he said, voice low and deliberate, "stop touching him. I want you to watch now."

Anna looked up, breath catching slightly, her fingers still glistening from where they'd been teasing Wolf. She obediently pulled her hand back, resting it on her thigh, eyes flicking between the two men as Tristan pushed his shorts down and stepped out of them.

Tristan reached for Wolf with a slow, steady touch, coaxing him into position. Wolf shifted easily, pliant but entirely aware, trusting him. Tristan guided him until his back was flat against the couch, his legs resting on the backrest, knees bent wide open, hips tilted just right. Wolf's head hung slightly over the edge, chin tipped back, the line of his throat clean and exposed, but perfectly supported by the couch's plush curve. His pants had slipped entirely off in the motion, baring his cunt and thighs completely.

Anna sucked in a breath.

Tristan crouched next to Wolf, one large hand spreading his thighs wider, the other sliding between to part his folds and expose his swollen clit. "Look at this," he murmured to Anna, his thumb pressing down gently. "He gets wet just from being watched."

Wolf gave a low, appreciative groan, hips flexing forward ever so slightly.

Tristan grinned and reached higher, dragging his palm over Wolf's belly before cupping his jaw. "I told you he was a good boy," he said to Anna, his voice dipping into that teasing, commanding timbre. "But you haven't seen how pretty his throat looks when it takes my cock."

He ran his fingers over Wolf's lips, then tapped them lightly. Wolf opened without hesitation, mouth warm and willing.

Tristan looked back at Anna. "Sit right there. Watch him."

Anna shifted, her legs curling beneath her as she sat back on the couch, eyes fixed to the scene unfolding in front of her, flushed and panting without even being touched.

"Good," Tristan murmured, positioning himself carefully. "Let's give her a show."

Tristan eased forward with deliberate control, guiding his cock deeper into Wolf's open mouth, inch by slow inch, until the head passed the threshold of his throat. Wolf's eyes fluttered, body still and receptive, the curve of his throat flexing visibly as Tristan filled him completely.

A low sound escaped Anna's lips--awed, breathy.

Tristan held still once he was fully buried, one hand cradling Wolf's jaw, the other splayed possessively across his belly. "Feel that," he said, his voice a rough whisper to Anna. "Right here."

Anna shifted forward on her knees and reached out with delicate fingers, tracing along Wolf's neck until she felt the distinct shape pressing outward. Her hand trembled slightly as she leaned in and placed a soft, reverent kiss just above where Tristan's cock rested, her lips lingering on the taut skin.

"You're beautiful like this," she murmured, almost to herself.

Tristan smiled darkly, his fingers tightening. "Watch closely, baby," he said, beginning to move--slow strokes at first, letting Wolf adjust, then deeper, more insistent thrusts. Wolf took it all, throat flexing, eyes half-lidded with surrender.

After a moment, Anna spoke again, voice low with hunger. "Can I touch him?"

Tristan didn't stop moving, but his gaze slid to her, sharp and commanding. "You can't touch his clit," he said, voice low and steady. "And if you're going to put your fingers inside him, it has to be four. Not less. And he doesn't come. Understood?"

Anna swallowed hard, her eyes wide, turned-on. "Understood."

"Good girl," Tristan murmured, before turning his gaze back down to Wolf, possessive and proud. "His body's mine right now. You're just here to admire it."

Anna moved between Wolf's spread legs, reverent and hungry. She kissed up the inside of his thigh, slow and lingering, fingers gliding through his wet folds before pressing in--four at once, just like she was told. Wolf gasped around Tristan's cock, back arching, his throat flexing as he adjusted to the stretch.

"Oh god," Anna breathed, easing deeper, feeling him clench and open around her hand. "He's taking it so well."

"Of course he is," Tristan said, eyes gleaming. "Let him squeeze around you. But don't you dare make him come. Not yet."

Tristan slid slowly out of Wolf's throat, his cock wet and gleaming, and looked down at him with that cool, possessive gaze. He stroked a thumb over Wolf's parted lips, letting him breathe, just for a moment.

"Put your fingers in my ass," he said quietly, deliberately. "Stretch me open while you take me in your throat."

Wolf's eyes darkened, a low growl of arousal vibrating in his chest. "Yes, Daddy."

Tristan guided himself back in, slowly easing into Wolf's mouth, past his lips, over his tongue, all the way down until he felt the tight grip of Wolf's throat swallowing around him.

With his head tipped back and Tristan's cock deep in his throat, Wolf reached up, trailing his slick fingers lower, under Tristan's heavy balls, until he found his hole. He circled it gently, teasing, then slowly pressed one finger inside.

Tristan let out a breath, the motion of his hips stilling as he adjusted to the stretch.

Anna was still nestled between Wolf's spread thighs, her eyes wide with heat, watching the way Wolf obediently worked Tristan open while she kept four fingers inside his cunt, her thumb circling idly over his mound, not quite touching his clit.

"Good boy," she breathed, her voice full of awe and lust.

Wolf moaned around Tristan's cock, the sound deep and hungry.

"More," Tristan said, voice tight now. "Give me two."

Wolf obeyed, working the second finger in slowly, twisting gently, spreading Tristan open while taking every inch of his cock into his throat.

"Fuck, he's--" Anna started, but didn't finish. She bit her lip, flushed, eyes flicking from the bulge in Wolf's throat to the slick movement of his fingers inside Tristan.

Tristan groaned, his control starting to slip as Wolf expertly fucked his fingers into him, mouth swallowing around him like he was made for it.

"Look at him," Tristan said, his voice low, reverent. "Stretched open, stuffed full, and still serving like a good boy."

Wolf's body trembled slightly, every nerve alight, but he didn't stop. Not his mouth, not his fingers. This was his place, and he knew it.

And Anna? She just kept watching, working him between his legs, lips parted, breathing ragged, her own arousal practically dripping from her every movement.

Tristan gritted his teeth as Wolf's two fingers stretched him open, his hips stuttering forward into the warm tightness of Wolf's throat. "Another one," he ordered, voice rough. "Don't stop fucking me until I say so."

Wolf obeyed without hesitation, adding a third finger and twisting gently, pushing deeper, spreading him wider.

Tristan's breath hitched, his abs flexing as he rocked forward again, impaling himself on Wolf's fingers and down his throat in the same rhythm.

Anna was panting softly between Wolf's thighs, watching the obscene scene unfold above her -- the dominance, the obedience, the pure chemistry between them. Her own fingers still buried in Wolf's slick heat, four digits pressing up against that warm resistance without slipping past it. Yet.

"Four," Tristan growled, nearly gasping, pleasure fraying the edges of his control. "Stretch me to four, boy."

Wolf moaned around his cock, muffled and guttural, as he worked his pinky in, feeling Tristan clench around him before slowly yielding. Tristan's body trembled, his hips rocking, his throat tightening with a groan as he took all four fingers.

He pushed himself back on Wolf's hand, fucking it greedily. "Anna," he barked, voice low and urgent, "Plunge those fingers in. Hard. Fuck his cunt for me."

Anna's hand moved immediately, plunging in to the knuckle, the wet sounds of Wolf's pussy filling the room as she began thrusting, slow at first, then faster, in sync with the rhythm Tristan set with his own hips.

Wolf was vibrating under them both, used and filled, his throat bulging with cock, his pussy stretched open around Anna's pumping hand. His body was on fire, sensations colliding -- but he stayed right there, offering himself to them, loving every second.

"Fucking hell," Tristan growled, his voice cracking now as his control finally slipped. "You're perfect, both of you--fuck--"

He gripped Wolf's head, thrust in deep one last time, and groaned as he came, his load spilling straight down Wolf's throat. Wolf didn't flinch, didn't pull back -- just took it, swallowing around him as Tristan's cock twitched and pulsed between his lips.

Anna moaned softly at the sight, her hand still working inside Wolf's soaked cunt. She could feel how close he was, how his walls fluttered desperately around her knuckles.

But he hadn't been given permission to come. So he didn't.

Tristan slowly eased his cock out of Wolf's throat, still hard but satisfied for now. A line of saliva clung to the tip, glistening in the morning light. He exhaled a long breath, fingers brushing through Wolf's damp hair as he stepped back, stretching and rolling his shoulders with a lazy, contented hum.

Anna stayed between Wolf's thighs, her hand still resting inside him, not moving -- just holding him open, letting him breathe. She shifted her weight gently, the heel of her hand pressing against him as her free hand caressed his chest and thighs in soft, grounding strokes. Wolf was blissed out, eyes half-lidded, hands sliding along her arms, just riding the waves of sensation, of being held, being claimed and cared for.

"You feel incredible," Anna murmured, pressing a kiss to the soft curve of his belly. "I love feeling you like this."

Wolf's only reply was a dreamy exhale.

Anna glanced over toward the kitchen, where Tristan was casually naked and rooting through a cupboard for coffee beans. "Hey," she called out, her tone easy and warm.

He looked back at her, eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"

"Mind if I put my fist in him?" she asked, her tone still casual, but her eyes bright with need. "Just to hold it. Let him feel it."

Tristan smirked and leaned against the counter, grinding beans in slow circles. "If he's taking you that well, yeah. But don't move once you're in. Let him settle into it."

Anna smiled, already shifting, adjusting her wrist with careful pressure. "Got it."

Wolf moaned softly as she began to press in, curling her fingers in. He was soaked and open, his cunt fluttering around her, inviting her in -- and her fist slipped past the point of resistance with surprising ease. Her breath caught. He just took her. No hesitation. All warmth and surrender.

"You're unreal," she whispered, her voice almost reverent. She stayed still, her wrist resting against him, her whole hand encased in his heat.

Tristan walked back over, joint in one hand, coffee momentarily forgotten. He crouched beside them and looked down at Wolf, who was glowing, high and open, the haze of pleasure deepening the blue in his eyes. Tristan lit the joint and slid it between Wolf's lips, watching as he took a slow, grateful drag.

"Enjoy that," he said with a grin. "You've earned it."

Anna looked up at Tristan. "He's just... holding me," she said softly, still amazed. "Completely."

"He's finally learning how good it feels to be filled like that," Tristan murmured, brushing Wolf's hair back. "Just take it in, babe."

Wolf's hand found Anna's wrist, not to move her -- just to feel, feel his pussy close around her wrist. Almost to confirm she's really there and hold her there, like he didn't want her to go anywhere.

Tristan pressed a kiss to his temple, then wandered back to the kitchen, letting the scent of fresh coffee and lingering smoke fill the space. Outside, the breeze stirred the leaves in the garden, carrying in the scent of herbs and sun-warmed wood.

Everything was slow. Unhurried. Intimate. A morning of quiet sensation and connection -- three bodies orbiting one another, perfectly in sync.

Wolf lay back into the cushions, muscles slack, body open and completely at ease. Anna's fist remained snug and still inside him, cradled by the pulsing warmth of his cunt. The intensity of earlier had softened into something quieter, deeper -- not gone, but simmering beneath the surface like coals under ash.

His arousal had settled into a low hum, less urgent now, more a comfort than a craving. He exhaled slowly, letting his eyes flutter open to find Anna watching him with a small smile, her free hand gently brushing over his thigh, then circling idly over his skin.

"That's gotta be the prettiest view I've ever had," she murmured.

Wolf huffed a soft laugh, eyes crinkling. "You say that like you're not wrist-deep in me right now."

"Exactly," she said, grinning. "I've got the best seat in the house."

Their voices were low, playful -- still laced with heat, but wrapped in warmth, in intimacy. There was no rush to push further, no urgency. Just the pleasure of being, of feeling.

Wolf let his head roll to the side, gaze landing on the book Tristan had been reading earlier. He reached for it lazily, fingers brushing the cover.

"Mind if I...?" he asked, nodding toward it.

Anna shifted slightly, careful not to move inside him, and nodded. "Go ahead."

He opened the book and settled into reading, voice quiet as he began to narrate a few lines aloud -- just for her. His voice was smooth and steady, vibrating slightly around the still-burning joint he balanced between his fingers.

Anna's breath caught at how good he sounded like that, so effortlessly himself, confident and relaxed and full of care.

While he read, Anna let her other hand drift lower, grazing the curve of her own thigh, then dipping softly between her folds. Her touch was light, almost absent-minded, more a response to the connection than a need. She didn't chase anything -- just mirrored the quiet fullness they shared.

Her fingers circled lazily, her breath deepening as she let her forehead rest gently against the inside of his thigh, the two of them connected in every sense -- her hand nestled inside him, his voice reading to her, their bodies at ease but still so charged.

Outside, the wind rustled the garden, and somewhere in the kitchen, the coffee machine clicked to life.

And on the couch, time melted, just for a little while.

Tristan stood at the threshold of the living room for a long moment, just... watching. Admiring, really. There was something reverent in his gaze -- not just lust, but awe. The way Wolf lay reclined, utterly open and at peace, book in hand and voice calm as he read. The way Anna was draped across him, hand still buried inside, the two of them tied together in a soft, visceral kind of intimacy. It was like a painting -- one that breathed and pulsed and smiled.

Without saying a word, Tristan disappeared down the hall. When he returned, he was cradling one of Wolf's old analog cameras, a favorite -- worn leather strap, brushed metal body. He held it carefully, reverently, as if it were part of the moment itself.

Wolf noticed the movement first, raising a brow as he glanced up from the book.

Tristan grinned. "Don't mind me," he said quietly. "You two are fucking gorgeous right now."

Anna chuckled, still resting her cheek against Wolf's thigh. "You're gonna make us famous?"

"Private collection," he smirked. "Unless you beg me otherwise."

He lifted the camera and began clicking -- slow, intentional. The soft shutter sounds punctuated the room like the rhythm of a breath. First, a wide shot: the sprawl of bodies, the openness, the light filtering through the garden into the apartment like it too wanted to be part of the moment. Then closer: the curve of Wolf's stomach rising and falling with every inhale, the line of Anna's wrist disappearing into him, her other hand lazily stroking herself. He caught the glisten on her fingers, the soft parting of her lips, her trimmed labia slick and swollen with pleasure.

A close-up of where they were joined, Anna's knuckles barely visible past the folds of Wolf's cunt. Another of Wolf's mouth, slightly open as he read aloud, his voice steady despite the fullness he held.

Then a portrait -- Wolf, head turned, eyes half-lidded, a lazy, contented smile tugging at his mouth. The kind of expression that didn't come from being fucked or dominated, but from being seen and touched and loved exactly how he wanted.

Tristan lowered the camera for a second, just to breathe it all in again. "You two," he said softly, voice thick, "are ridiculous."

Wolf smirked, lifting the joint to his lips for a slow drag. "Jealous?"

"Extremely," Tristan grinned. "But mostly just impressed."

He stepped in for another shot -- Anna's hand grazing upward, brushing her clit in slow, unhurried circles. Her eyelids fluttered, her face still pressed to Wolf's skin. The camera clicked again.

Everything moved slowly. Sensually. The shutter, the breath, the subtle movements between Anna and Wolf. It wasn't about getting off, not yet. It was about documenting something sacred -- the feeling of being completely known, completely accepted, completely adored.

And Tristan caught it all, every heartbeat.

Wolf's hips began to roll in an unhurried rhythm, his body fully relaxed into the warmth of Anna's hand nestled deep inside him. Her fist remained still at first, simply held in place, letting him use her however he needed. He rocked onto her slowly, his pussy slick and eager, the stretch feeling like it belonged to him now--comforting, filling, intimate. Every subtle grind coaxed her knuckles just a little deeper, every withdrawal drawing out wet, glistening friction.

Anna let her cheek rest against the soft inside of his thigh, her face turned toward his center, watching him move with a kind of quiet awe. She didn't need to do anything but be there--be his anchor, his resistance, his pleasure. Her other hand gently stroked the outside of his hip and belly, lazy circles of affection to match the slow pulse of his grinding.

Tristan had gone still, transfixed by the way Wolf's body welcomed Anna's hand like it was made for it. He moved in closer, setting the camera aside with a reverent kind of care. Then he leaned down and pressed a warm, deep kiss to Wolf's clit--soft and slow, like a secret. Wolf's body twitched, a breath catching in his throat.

Tristan looked up at Anna, and she turned toward him just in time to catch his kiss--wet and familiar, like slipping into something they'd done a thousand times. They laughed softly into it, the bond between them warm and teasing, built on years of trust.

When they parted, Tristan shifted beside them, kneeling, watching as Wolf let Anna's hand slide out nearly to the base of her fingers before pulling him back in again. It was deliberate now--Wolf riding her slowly, the motion so sensual it almost ached. The drag of skin, the wet sound, the ease of it all--like his cunt was made to be filled and adored.

Tristan began to stroke himself slowly, just watching, his breath shallow. Anna glanced at him and leaned in, flicking her tongue gently over the head of his cock, then swirling it around, coating him with spit. He hissed through his teeth, one hand in her hair for just a moment, guiding her before letting go again.

They both watched Wolf, who was utterly absorbed in the feeling of Anna's hand stretching and filling him, his mouth parted, chest rising and falling with pleasure. He looked down once, their eyes meeting--Anna's hand deep inside him, Tristan's cock wet and pulsing inches away--and he moaned low in his throat, the sound pure want.

Anna started slowly pushing her hand in deeper on each thrust, stretching him a little further. She didn't force it. She let Wolf's body decide, and he did--letting her in, inviting her, groaning when her knuckles rubbed deeper, when her wrist kissed the edge of his opening. He started to ride her with purpose now, not chasing orgasm, just chasing fullness, sensation, connection.

Tristan moved a little closer, stroking his cock at the sight, his voice low. "You're fucking perfect like this," he murmured. "Taking her fist like it's nothing. God, look at you."

Anna kissed Wolf's thigh, then looked up at him. "Do you want more?" she asked softly, her voice almost reverent.

Wolf only moaned, his answer in the way he pushed down again, slick and open, swallowing her hand back in deep.

Tristan's eyes never left the scene unfolding in front of him--Anna's arm buried deep in Wolf's soaked, stretching cunt, Wolf grinding down in slow, steady waves, and the low, sweet sounds of pleasure humming between them. His hand found Anna's hair, fingers tangling gently but firmly at the nape of her neck.

"Open up," he said, voice low, just for her. His tone wasn't rough--there was something deeply familiar in it, like a melody they both knew by heart.

Anna lifted her gaze, lips parted in anticipation, and Tristan guided her head with measured control. He nudged the head of his cock against her mouth, watching her lips close around it as she slid down slowly. He didn't fuck into her--not yet. He held her there for a breath, then pulled her back just as slowly, guiding her again. A rhythm began, lazy and wet, her mouth working his cock while her hand stayed buried in Wolf's cunt, letting him ride her with the same deep slowness.

Wolf was still grinding down, his eyes half-lidded, breath coming heavier now as the dual sensation wrapped around him--Anna's fist stretching him open, and the visual of her lips wrapped around Tristan's cock just inches from his body.

Tristan moaned softly, letting his head fall back for a moment, then looked down again and cupped Anna's cheek as she sucked him, his voice thick. "You're such a fucking sight," he murmured. "You feel him clenching around you? Still wanting more?"

Anna hummed in response, her throat vibrating around him, and Tristan shivered at the sensation. He slipped from her mouth with a wet sound, glistening and hard. Then he knelt between Wolf's legs, stroking himself slowly, watching the way Wolf's cunt swallowed Anna's hand again.

"Hold him open for me," he said, glancing at her.

Anna obeyed without hesitation, drawing her hand out just enough to stretch him with her fingers, opening him up, slick and glistening, exposed and pulsing.

Tristan leaned in, rubbing the head of his cock slowly over the stretched opening, already gleaming with spit and arousal. "You're so wet," he said, more to Wolf than anyone else. "You want me in with her, don't you?"

Wolf's breath hitched, hips twitching, voice hoarse. "Yes. Please..."

Tristan pressed in slowly, guided by Anna's open hand, the two of them working together. The tight stretch welcomed him--Anna's knuckles still nestled just inside as Tristan slid the head of his cock past the threshold, groaning deep as he entered.

Wolf cried out, his body pulsing around both of them. It was full, impossibly so--Anna's hand and Tristan's cock both stretching him, slow and deliberate, feeding into the shared rhythm they were building. Anna kissed along the inside of Wolf's thigh again, and Tristan bent forward, planting kisses on Wolf's stomach, his chest, a line of warmth and care as his hips rocked gently in.

"Good boy," he whispered against his skin. "You take us so well."

Wolf whimpered, every breath catching in his throat as he felt them both--Anna's hand still nestled just inside him, and Tristan's thick cock pulsing deeper against that fullness. The stretch was overwhelming in the best way, his body trembling, his cunt clenching desperately around the invasion.

Anna's fingers curled slightly, her knuckles dragging across the soft inner walls of Wolf's pussy as she began to stroke Tristan inside him, slow and deliberate. She held Wolf open with one hand, and with the other she wrapped her fingers around the base of Tristan's cock, jerking him gently inside that hot, slick heat. Every movement made Wolf shiver, every motion driving them closer.

Wolf groaned, hips twitching, and Anna shifted her touch. Her fingers slid up, slick and practiced, finding his clit. She rubbed it slowly at first, barely a whisper of pressure--teasing, circling, watching the way his breath stuttered and his thighs trembled.

Tristan gritted his teeth, his cock throbbing inside the shared tightness of Wolf's cunt and Anna's grasp. "Fuck... that's good," he growled, one hand resting on Wolf's hip, the other buried in Anna's hair again, gently urging her forward until she kissed over Wolf's lower belly.

Anna's mouth was warm, her lips brushing over Wolf's skin as her fingers worked his clit with increasing intensity. "You're right on the edge, aren't you?" she murmured. "So close, baby."

Wolf couldn't answer--his voice caught in his throat, mouth open in a silent moan as his body arched. The pressure inside him was overwhelming: the fullness, the stretch, the ache of being opened so completely and held there.

Anna's fingers circled faster, firmer now, and with one final roll of his hips against their joined hands and bodies, the wave overtook him.

He came hard--his cunt spasming, clamping down around both Tristan's cock and Anna's hand. The orgasm ripped through him, full-body, unstoppable, his thighs shaking, his breath gone in the wave of it. His voice broke into small, gasping sounds as he rode it out, every nerve alight.

Tristan didn't move to come. He held still, groaning low, letting Wolf's orgasm milk him but keeping himself controlled, thick and aching inside him.

Anna smiled up at him, her hand still slick with motion, still stroking lightly at Wolf's clit as he came down in shivers and small moans. "You didn't come," she said softly to Tristan.

"Apparently it wasn't about me," Tristan murmured, his voice thick. "Look at him."

Anna did--Wolf's body glowing, relaxed, fucked open and soft in the aftermath. Her fingers stayed just barely inside him, not pressing, just resting there as he trembled and let himself be held.

"God, you're beautiful," she whispered.

Anna leaned in, brushing her lips gently over Wolf's, their kiss tender, lingering. His arms wrapped around her as she nestled against him, her body molded perfectly to his. She sighed against his mouth, a soft sound of satisfaction and closeness, then turned her head slightly to call over her shoulder.

"Tristan," she said with a smile, warm and inviting.

He was already moving toward them, eyes heavy with hunger and fondness. Anna shifted slowly, languid from earlier pleasure, and guided herself onto her side, still lying atop Wolf. Her hand reached behind, fingers curling around Tristan's thigh to pull him in. Wolf's arms were tight around her, chest to her back, his face nuzzling the slope of her shoulder.

As Tristan's cock brushed her lips, Anna opened for him eagerly, tongue flicking over his head before taking him in deep. She moaned around him, cheeks hollowing, one hand still resting against Wolf's hip like she needed to feel both of them at once.

Wolf held her as she sucked Tristan, his arms warm and grounding. He pressed tender kisses to her neck, her shoulder, the curve of her spine. The whole time, Anna was completely in his arms, and he could feel every soft moan and flex of her body as she worked Tristan's cock.

Tristan's hand came down gently to her jaw, fingers tilting her face up until her mouth slid off of him with a slick pop. His voice was low but firm. "On your back," he said. "Lie on him."

Anna obeyed with a soft smile, rolling over until she was fully on top of Wolf now, facing upward. He shifted beneath her, adjusting to her weight, their bare skin sticking together deliciously. Her ass nestled perfectly between his thighs, the cleft of it pressing hot and snug right against his soaked, swollen clit.

Tristan knelt between Anna's open legs, watching as she wrapped them loosely around his waist. He didn't wait long. With one steady thrust, he filled her, her slick heat welcoming him in with a soft gasp.

She arched, her body pressing harder against Wolf's, and that new angle dragged the curve of her ass even deeper against Wolf's aching clit.

"Fuck--" Wolf whispered, hips instinctively rolling upward to grind against her. The pressure, the heat, her movements--everything was perfect. Every time Tristan thrust into her, Anna's body rocked against him, grinding his sensitive clit with just enough friction to make his breath hitch.

He clutched at her hips, holding her tighter. "Again," he murmured. "Do it again."

Tristan pulled back and pushed in deep. Anna cried out beneath the weight of his thrust, her whole body moving with it--and once more, her ass ground against Wolf's clit in that maddening, perfect rhythm.

Wolf's fingers gripped her thighs, his breath catching. "Harder, Tristan," he said, voice thick with need. "Don't stop--it feels good for me too."

That spurred Tristan on, his hips snapping forward with more force, still careful, but relentless. Anna whimpered and clung to Wolf's arms as he held her in place, every thrust sending her rocking between them, every movement pressing harder against Wolf's pussy.

Anna whimpered and clung to Wolf's arms as he held her in place, every thrust sending her rocking between them, every movement pressing harder against Wolf's pussy.

Wolf slid one hand between Anna's thighs, cupping her heat as Tristan drove into her. He knew her now--knew the curve of her folds, the exact spot where her clit pulsed and throbbed with tension. His fingers found it, and he circled gently at first, matching the rhythm of Tristan's thrusts. The moment Anna gasped and clenched, he pressed in more firmly, rubbing her clit in tight, practiced circles that made her hips buck down onto him.

Anna was trembling in their arms, stretched open around Tristan's cock, impaled and worshipped. "Wolf," she gasped, her voice cracking with need.

He kissed her temple, his voice a warm hum. "I've got you," he murmured. "Just feel it. Let it happen."

Her moans grew louder, broken and breathless, as his fingers worked faster, more insistent, dragging her right to the edge. Tristan's eyes were locked on the two of them--Anna trembling, Wolf beneath her, lips to her shoulder, fingers merciless on her clit while she ground his soaked cunt with her body. His own groans turned rougher, hips snapping harder, deeper, pushing Anna up the slope of pleasure.

"I can't--" she gasped, but her body was already shattering.

Wolf felt her come apart in his arms, muscles clenching around Tristan, thighs twitching around his hips, back arching against him. Her ass drove down hard against Wolf's clit with the force of it, and that was all he needed.

"Fuck," he cried out, pleasure spilling through him in waves as his clit throbbed under her. His whole body jolted with the shared rhythm of their pleasure, Tristan's cock buried inside her, Anna riding both of them, held tight in his arms.

"Harder," Wolf gasped, voice cracking on the word. "Tristan, fuck her harder--please--"

And Tristan did. Gripping Anna's hips, he drove deep, again and again, until Wolf was moaning through the aftershocks of his orgasm, Anna squirming and overstimulated in his lap, and Tristan's groan tore through the air.

He came with a shudder, buried to the hilt in Anna, his cock pulsing inside her as she clenched around him. Anna whimpered at the stretch and heat, fingers digging into Wolf's chest.

Then, silence. Just breath and heat.

Anna lay boneless against Wolf, Tristan still inside her, both of them panting.

Wolf's hand, still sticky with Anna's slick, caressed up her belly, then curled around her waist. He held her close, skin to skin, as the three of them lay tangled in warmth and bliss, bodies softening in the lull after the storm.

The room was thick with the scent of sex and skin and summer air drifting through the open doors to the garden. Their bodies had finally stilled, breath slowing, pulses syncing. Wolf lay on his back, one hand lazily resting on Anna's thigh where she was still curled over him. Tristan was sprawled beside them, eyes half-lidded, chest rising and falling.

Anna rolled onto her side and reached for the joint tin on the table. Her fingers worked deftly, the familiar ritual grounding her, even as her skin still buzzed with aftershocks. She lit the joint, took a long, easy drag, and passed it to Wolf, her lips curling into a slow, teasing smile.

"You know," she said, exhaling smoke toward the open window, "there's this party tonight. Queer club in the city. The friend group's going."

Wolf turned his head toward her, lips parted slightly as he exhaled his hit. "That sounds like a setup for trouble."

Tristan chuckled, reaching for the joint as it was passed his way. "Only the fun kind. Let's go."

Wolf stretched luxuriously beneath them, a small satisfied sound escaping him. "Only if we can all look irresponsible and underdressed."

Anna grinned. "That's the plan."

Their laughter and chatter followed them as they finally peeled themselves off the couch, gathering towels as they wandered toward the bathroom. The warm spray of the shower hit their skin like a slow exhale. They moved easily around each other, touching without urgency, trading kisses and soft smiles as they washed away the sweat and salt of their earlier tangle.

At the sink, Anna combed her fingers through her damp curls, glancing at Tristan's reflection in the mirror. "So," she said casually, "was that the first time we actually fucked?"

Tristan blinked, towel slung around his neck, water still beading down his chest. "I think it was."

Anna laughed, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "Damn. About time."

"Right?" Tristan smirked, stepping behind her to kiss her neck. "We really took our time getting there."

Wolf leaned against the doorframe, a toothbrush dangling from the corner of his mouth. "Wait, seriously? That was the first time?"

Tristan nodded, grinning at him. "Apparently."

Wolf made a faux-shocked face. "Wow. And here I thought I was the only virgin in the room."

Wolf made a faux-scandalized noise and pressed a hand to his chest. "Am I being replaced already?"

Tristan winked at him in the mirror. "You'll survive."

Anna laughed, turning to kiss Wolf gently on the cheek. "You'll always be my favorite boy."

Their eyes met, warm and buzzing with unspoken things. The kind of feeling that lingered like heat long after the flame had passed.

"Alright," Anna said, swatting Wolf lightly on the ass. "Let's get dressed."

Anna snorted and threw her towel at him, which he dodged effortlessly. "You're everyone's favorite slut now," she teased.

Wolf gave a dramatic bow. "A role I accept with grace."

Their voices mixed with the hum of the fan and the rush of running water, everything soft-edged and light. They were loose-limbed and glowing, getting dressed in shared laughter and flirtation, the night still stretched ahead like a promise.