Chapter 131 Chapter 131 The Wild Four
The bras come off.
Erika and Tish keep Nick pinned against the door, their hands already moving with purpose, stripping him of his sweats and boxers like they’ve been waiting for this exact moment. There’s no hesitation in them—just confidence, control. They drop to their knees in front of him, taking turns, mouths and hands working together in a rhythm that builds fast.
Gemma and I stay back by the chaise in his room—it faces the door perfectly, like a stage. We start kissing, slow at first, then deeper, more deliberate. I can feel the shift in the room, the way everything tightens, sharpens.
Nick doesn’t know where to look.
His eyes dart between Gemma and me, then back down to Erika and Tish. He’s overwhelmed, trying to take it all in, his breath already uneven.
Tish shifts lower, taking him deeper before moving to his balls, her mouth working slow and deliberate while Erika keeps him steady with her hand and lips. I catch the moment Tish slides her hand around his ass, her fingers pressing lightly.
Nick twitches.
“Not my ass,” he protests, his voice breaking slightly. “What the hell, Tish?”
“Let it happen, babe,” I say, smiling as I pull back from Gemma just enough to look at him. “You’ll like it.”
Nick shakes his head—but he’s grinning now, caught somewhere between nervous and completely turned on.
It doesn’t take long.
They push him right to the edge in seconds. His hands slam against the door as it hits him hard, his body going rigid, jerking as he comes harder than he expected.
Erika rises first, guiding him gently toward the bed. He steps out of what’s left of his clothes, slower now, catching his breath. He sits back, leaning into the mattress.
Tish climbs behind him, her arms wrapping around his chest, her lips brushing his neck. Erika steps in front of him, moving into a slow, controlled lap dance, her body rolling in front of him, keeping his focus locked.
Tish leans in, whispering in his ear.
Then she looks over.
“Gemma,” she says, voice steady, “take Elle’s panties off and put your fingers inside her.”
Gemma doesn’t hesitate.
She slides my thong down slowly, her fingers trailing over my skin in a way that already has my body reacting. She takes her time, teasing, building heat before she even touches where I need her.
Then she does.
Her fingers move between my legs, slow at first, learning my rhythm before pushing deeper inside me. I press into her without thinking, my body asking for more.
She leans over me, kissing me as her hand works inside me.
Gemma knows exactly what she’s doing.
Exactly how to take me there.
Her pace quickens, her fingers hitting that spot that makes everything tighten, my back arching as I lose control. I moan into her mouth, and she takes it, swallows it.
When I come down, I don’t wait.
I reach for her, sliding her underwear down with my teeth, slow, deliberate, keeping my eyes on Nick the entire time. Letting him see everything.
My mouth trails over her leg, placing soft, teasing kisses along her thighs. I drag it out, enjoying the way she reacts, the way the tension builds.
Nick is losing it.
I can see it in his face.
When my mouth finally meets her, I move slowly at first, tasting, exploring, my tongue sliding between her folds before pressing deeper.
Gemma bucks against me as my fingers follow, sliding inside her, working her from both angles. I feel her tighten around me, hear the way her breath catches as I suck on her clit.
“Fuck, Elle,” she gasps. “You do that better than Alek.”
I smile against her.
Somewhere, I hear Nick chuckle—low, strained.
I push her harder, controlling her movement, pressing her down until she breaks, until she lets go completely, squirting like a little fountain.
Then I pull back.
Nick is already moving again.
He bends Erika over Tish, their bodies tangled, mouths already working on each other. He rolls a condom on quickly and slides into Erika from behind.
Gemma shifts onto the bed beside them, bending forward.
Nick reaches out, spanking her.
Hard.
She pushes back into it, asking for more.
He gives it to her.
His hand trails forward, slipping between her legs while he moves behind Erika.
I sit back now.
And I watch.
My boyfriend.
My friends.
All of it happening at once.
I try not to focus on the changes in him—the weight he’s lost, the paleness of his skin—but it’s there. I see it, even now.
And still—
He’s Nick.
Still beautiful.
Still him.
The scorpion tattoo on his shoulder shifts with every movement.
He pulls out of Erika and moves into Tish, bracing himself with one arm, the other pressing against her chest. He looks up at me, then leans down, kissing her—but not her lips. Her face. Her cheek.
Gemma moves behind him, dropping to her knees.
I can’t see her, but I know what she’s doing. Her tongue, his asshole.
Nick’s eyes widen.
Then soften.
I wink at him.
“You guys are fucking crazy,” he says, a breathless laugh slipping out before a deeper sound follows.
He pulls out again, switching condoms, then moves behind Gemma, sliding into her. His hand comes down against her ass again—harder.
She pushes back into him.
Erika and Tish move beside me now, their lips brushing my neck from both sides. Erika’s hands move over my chest, slow and teasing.
Nick watches us.
Like if he looks away, we’ll disappear.
Then—
He stops.
Mid-thrust.
Gemma lets out a frustrated sound beneath him.
“Is it okay if I just…” he exhales, catching his breath. “If I just fuck my girlfriend? I’m getting tired.”
Everything freezes.
Just for a second.
The girls look at each other, then at us.
“Aww!” they all say at once.
“Did you just call Elle your girlfriend?” Gemma laughs. “That was the cutest thing ever.”
“Nothing about me is cute,” he says, grinning. “I’m a twenty-eight-year-old man.”
“You are cute,” I counter. “Everything you do is cute. The music, the lights, the way you touch me, the way you talk about me when you think I’m not listening.”
Nick glances around at the dim lights, the soft music still playing.
“Okay,” he admits. “Maybe I’m cute.”
He moves to the headboard and gestures for me.
I go to him.
Climbing into his lap, I lean back against him, letting his hands guide my hips as I start to move, slow, controlled.
Building.
Taking my time.
The girls settle on the chaise, watching.
I move over him, feeling his body respond, hearing the change in his breath.
The sound he makes—deep, raw—is different.
I feel him swell inside me.
“I can’t hold it,” he groans. “Fuck—”
He comes, gripping me tighter.
I start to move off him, but he catches my wrist.
“You didn’t finish?” he asks.
“It’s okay,” I say softly. “Let’s shower and get some sleep. I’m tired.”
It’s the truth.
I let him go into the bathroom alone.
The girls get dressed quietly now, the energy softer, heavier.