Author: Akiko

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“It was a mistake,” I said, and pushed myself up off the table. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

She didn’t argue. That was the worst part. She just stepped back, picked up the towel and handed it to me without meeting my eyes.

“Fine,” she said. “Okay.”

I dressed with my back to her, fumbling my shirt buttons, my cock still half hard and aching against my jeans. The room smelled of oil and something I’d just thrown away. I could feel her watching me in the mirror.

“For the record,” she said, as I reached for the door. Her voice was very calm, very flat. “I meant it at the wedding. I’ve meant it every day since. And you just told me it was a mistake.”

“Claire…”

“No. You had your chance. Twice now.” She folded her arms. “Tell Helen I said hi.”

I walked out through the reception, past the bamboo and the little bowl of mints, and sat in my car in the car park for ten minutes with my hands on the wheel.

My back felt great. Everything else felt terrible.

I drove home. Helen was on the sofa with her laptop. She asked how the massage was. I said fine. She didn’t look up.

That night I lay awake, cock throbbing under the duvet, thinking about Claire’s hands on my arse and the look on her face when I walked out.

I’d blown it. Completely.

Ending 3 of 16: The Shutdown. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I grabbed her wrist, pulled her down and kissed her.

She melted into it for a second, a hot, desperate second, her hand still wrapped around my cock, her tits pressing into my oily chest. She was half on the table, one knee up beside my hip, moaning into my mouth.

Then the door opened.

“Claire, have you got the spare hot stones, I’ve… oh. Oh, shit.”

Kelly. Twenties, blonde, holding an empty basket and staring at us like she’d walked into a car crash. Which, to be fair, she had.

Claire jumped off me so fast she nearly fell over. My cock was standing straight up, slick and purple, and there was no towel within reach. I grabbed the face cradle cover and held it over myself, which was about as effective as a postage stamp.

“It’s not…” Claire started.

“It really, really is,” Kelly said. She looked at me. Then down. Then back at Claire, eyebrows somewhere near her hairline. “Nice.”

“Kelly, I swear to God…”

“I didn’t see anything.” Kelly backed out. “But you owe me. Like, so many lunches.” The door clicked shut. Through it, faintly: “Oh my God.”

Claire stood there with her face in her hands.

“That’s my brother-in-law,” she groaned through her fingers. “She’s met Helen. She’s met Helen at my birthday.”

She threw my clothes at me. The session was over. My cock wasn’t.

I drove home with a hard-on and a sense of doom.

Ending 2 of 16: Caught by the Colleague. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I gripped the edges of the table until my knuckles went white. “Don’t stop. Please, Claire. Fucking please.”

“Shh.” But she didn’t stop. She found a rhythm, slow and tight, her oiled fist twisting over the head on every upstroke. The sound was obscene, wet and squelching, and she kept glancing at the door.

“Look at you,” she whispered. “Married man. Lying on my table with your cock in my hand. Begging.”

“Yes.”

“Helen’s husband.” She squeezed harder. “My big sister’s husband, leaking all over my fingers.”

That did it. Something about hearing her say it. My hips started bucking, fucking up into her fist, and she grabbed my balls with her other hand and rolled them in her palm.

“Come on,” she hissed. “Come for me. Quietly.”

I didn’t come quietly. I came with a strangled groan, shooting thick ropes up over my own stomach, my chest, one hitting my chin. She milked me through it, slow and firm, until I was twitching and oversensitive and gasping.

Then she let go, grabbed a towel, and dropped it on my chest.

“Clean yourself up,” she said, voice shaky. She washed her hands at the little sink for a very long time, back to me.

“Claire…”

“Don’t. Not now.” She turned around, flushed and wild-eyed. “That’s all you’re getting, Mark. That was already too much.”

She left. I lay there, spent and sticky and wanting so much more.

Ending 1 of 16: Hands Only. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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Nadia Okafor was thirty-two, the Year Six teacher with the red lipstick and the laugh that carried down corridors. She and Claire shared a classroom wall, a coffee habit, and one drunken Christmas kiss neither had ever mentioned.

Mark had heard about the kiss. ‘Invite her for dinner,’ he said. ‘Tell her the truth. If she says yes, you’re hers for the night.’

Claire told her over the pasta, cheeks flaming. Nadia set down her wine glass and looked from Claire to Mark. ‘So she does anything you say?’

‘Anything,’ Mark said. ‘Within her limits.’

Nadia smiled slowly. ‘Then tell her to take her top off.’

‘Claire. Top off.’ She pulled it over her head, then her bra, and sat at her own dinner table with her tits bare while Nadia came round the table and stood behind her chair.

Warm hands cupped her breasts. Nadia pinched her nipples until Claire gasped, then kissed her neck, tongue hot. ‘I’ve thought about this every day since Christmas,’ she breathed. ‘Spread your legs.’

Claire obeyed. Nadia’s hand slid under her skirt, found her knickers soaked through, and rubbed her clit through the wet cotton until her hips were bucking against the chair.

Mark watched, cock straining in his jeans. ‘Your call now, Nadia. She’s yours.’

What happens next?

→ Nadia takes her to the bedroom, just the two of them

→ Nadia makes her eat her pussy at the table

→ Nadia brings out a strap-on and invites Mark in

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Harold Penrose was sixty-one, a widower with silver hair, forearms browned from his allotment, and a habit of watching Claire hang the washing. She had always pretended not to notice. Mark had noticed.

On Sunday morning Mark sent her out to the garden in a short summer dress, no bra, no knickers. ‘Ask him over for coffee,’ he said. ‘Then do whatever he wants. I’ll be at the kitchen window.’

Harold looked up from his roses as she leaned on the fence, the dress gaping. ‘Morning, Claire.’ His eyes dropped to her nipples, hard and dark through the cotton, and stayed there.

‘Mark says you’ve been admiring me,’ she said, voice shaking. ‘He says you can have me. If you’d like.’

The old man went very still. Then he glanced at the window, where Mark raised his mug in salute. Harold laughed, low and rough. ‘Forty years I was married, love. I know when a woman means it. Do you?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I’m soaking.’

He opened the gate. In his potting shed, smelling of earth and tomato leaves, he lifted her dress to her waist and looked at her bare pussy for a long time. Then he pushed one gnarled finger into her, slow and deep, and Claire grabbed the workbench and groaned.

‘Oh, you’re a dirty one,’ Harold murmured. ‘Now. What shall we do with you?’

What happens next?

→ Harold bends her over the workbench, right there

→ He takes her back to his house and his bed

→ Harold calls Mark out to the shed to watch

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Saturday’s poker game was Mark’s oldest friends: Jake, thirty-six and broad from rugby, and Tom, thirty-seven, quiet with clever hands. Claire served the drinks in a black slip and nothing underneath, exactly as instructed.

Halfway through the second hand, Mark laid his cards down. ‘Lads. Claire’s going to be the pot tonight. She’s agreed. Haven’t you, love?’

Her face burned. ‘Yes, Sir.’ Jake’s beer stopped halfway to his mouth. Tom just looked at her, slow and hungry.

‘Show them,’ Mark said. Claire lifted the slip over her head and stood in the lamplight, shaved and already glistening. Jake swore softly. ‘Fuck me, Mark. You lucky bastard.’

Mark guided her to the table and bent her over the green felt, chips scattering. He spread her cheeks with his thumbs so they could see her pussy, pink and dripping. ‘Touch her. She wants it.’

Tom went first. Two thick fingers slid into her, curling, and Claire moaned into the felt. Jake’s hand found her tits, rolling her nipples hard. She could hear Mark breathing behind her, could hear his zip.

‘Please,’ she whimpered. ‘Please, Sir, let them fuck me.’

Mark leaned down by her ear. ‘Good girl. Now we just decide how.’

What happens next?

→ Mark sends her upstairs with Jake alone

→ Both friends take her at once on the table

→ Mark joins in and makes it a three-man game

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Nadia reached into her handbag and pulled out a black harness and a thick purple dildo. Claire’s mouth fell open.

‘I came prepared,’ Nadia said. ‘Mark, sit on the sofa. Claire, on your knees. Get it wet for me.’

Nadia buckled it on and Claire knelt and sucked the silicone cock, slobbering on it, while Nadia held her head and fucked her mouth just like a man. Mark watched, stroking his cock, eyes blown wide.

Then Nadia bent Claire over the sofa arm, right in front of her husband’s face, and slid the strap-on into her pussy.

Claire cried out. Nadia fucked her with deep, rolling hips, merciless, the dildo stretching her open while Nadia reached round to work her clit. ‘Look at your husband while I fuck you. Tell him who’s fucking his wife.’

‘You are,’ Claire sobbed. ‘Nadia’s fucking me, Sir, she’s fucking me so good…’

‘Mark,’ Nadia said. ‘Her mouth’s free.’

Mark stood and pushed his cock between Claire’s lips. Now she was spit-roasted between her husband and her colleague, the strap-on pounding her pussy, Mark’s cock in her throat, and she came so hard her knees buckled.

Nadia pulled out slowly, the strap-on glistening, and left it buckled on. She squirted lube on the dildo and pressed it against Claire’s arse.

‘Mark,’ she said sweetly, ‘lie down. I want her riding you while I take her arse. Both holes, her husband and her boss.’

Claire froze. ‘Boss?’

Nadia smiled. ‘Didn’t I mention? I got the headship. I start Monday.’

What happens next? More paths are coming soon.

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Nadia stepped back, hiked up her skirt and slipped off her knickers. She sat in Claire’s chair, legs spread over the armrests, and pointed at the floor.

‘Under the table, Mrs Whitmore. Dessert.’

Claire crawled down between her colleague’s thighs. Nadia’s pussy was swollen and wet, glistening in the candlelight. Claire licked her, tentative at first, then hungry as Nadia’s hand fisted her hair and pulled her face in tight.

‘Lick it properly. Tongue inside. That’s it, good girl.’ Nadia picked up her wine and sipped, chatting to Mark over Claire’s head as if nothing was happening. ‘She’s a natural. Did you know she’d be this good?’

‘I hoped,’ Mark said hoarsely.

Claire sucked Nadia’s clit, slurping loudly, two fingers sliding in her. Nadia’s thighs started to tremble. She stopped talking. She ground against Claire’s mouth, then came with a sharp cry, flooding her face.

‘Mark,’ Nadia panted. ‘Fuck your wife while she does it again.’

Mark was on the floor behind her before she’d finished the sentence. He shoved into Claire’s soaking pussy from behind and fucked her hard, pushing her face deeper into Nadia’s cunt with every thrust. Claire moaned, licked, sucked, came, and kept licking.

Afterwards Nadia slid down onto the floor with them, kissed Claire’s wet mouth, and tasted herself.

‘I’ve got a confession,’ she said. ‘My husband, Daniel, wants to watch too. He’s in the car outside. He’s been there all evening.’

What happens next? More paths are coming soon.

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‘Just us,’ Nadia said, taking Claire’s hand. ‘Mark, you can listen at the door.’

In the bedroom she stripped Claire completely, then herself. Nadia’s body was all curves, dark nipples, a neat strip of hair. They tumbled onto the bed kissing, tongues sliding, hands everywhere.

Nadia pushed Claire down and sucked her nipples one after the other, biting gently, until Claire was arching off the bed. Then she kissed down her belly and spread her thighs wide.

‘You’re dripping,’ Nadia whispered, and licked her slowly from arse to clit.

Claire had never been eaten by a woman. It was nothing like a man. Soft, precise, merciless. Nadia fluttered her tongue over her clit, then pushed three fingers inside and curled them until Claire felt herself gushing. She came squirting across Nadia’s face, crying out, and through the door she heard Mark groan.

‘Now me,’ Nadia said, and straddled Claire’s face.

Claire buried her tongue in her colleague’s pussy, tasting her for the first time, salty and sweet. Nadia rode her face, grinding hard, grabbing the headboard, swearing filthily until she came, thighs clamping Claire’s head.

They lay tangled, panting. Nadia stroked her hair and smiled a little wickedly.

‘Monday,’ she said. ‘Staff room, lunchtime. The door locks. And I’ll text Mark the instructions, not you.’

Claire’s heart pounded. Then her phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was Mark, from the other side of the door: ‘Yes.’

What happens next? More paths are coming soon.