Chapter 1
The morning air hung heavy with the scent of dew-soaked grass and exhaust fumes as Missy stepped out of the modest apartment complex, her sneakers scuffing against the cracked pavement. At twenty, she was a striking figure: a petite Korean-American college sophomore with a dancer’s lithe frame, her skin a warm golden hue that caught the early sunlight. Her C-cup breasts, firm and pert, pressed subtly against the fitted white blouse of her college uniform, the fabric clinging to her curves. Her long, jet-black hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, swaying with each step, and her almond-shaped eyes, framed by thick lashes, flickered with a mix of resignation and quiet defiance. Her legs, toned from years of casual track, were accentuated by a pleated navy skirt that ended mid-thigh, revealing smooth, unblemished skin. She kept herself meticulously groomed, her intimate areas shaved bare, a habit she maintained more for herself than for anyone else, though she knew it pleased the men who had become her reluctant guardians.
Missy’s parents had left for Seoul six months ago, leaving her in the care of two male employees from their family’s small logistics business: Jae, a broad-shouldered Korean man in his late thirties with a perpetual five o’clock shadow, and Marcus, a lean, wiry Black man in his early forties with a disarming grin. They were her escorts to and from campus, her protectors in a city that felt too big without her family. But the arrangement had evolved into something else, something unspoken yet undeniable. Missy didn’t love it, didn’t hate it. It was just part of her life now, a rhythm she’d fallen into like the hum of the city around her.
The black SUV idled at the curb, its engine purring softly. Jae was behind the wheel, his dark eyes scanning her as she approached. Marcus lounged in the backseat, his long legs sprawled out, already eyeing her with that familiar glint. Missy sighed, adjusting her backpack, her fingers brushing the hem of her skirt. She slid into the backseat beside Marcus, the leather cool against her thighs.
“Morning, Missy,” Marcus drawled, his voice smooth as honey. “Lookin’ sharp as always.”
She rolled her eyes, settling into the seat. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Jae chuckled from the front, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “Always so eager to rush, huh? Relax. We’ve got time.”
The drive to campus was a twenty-minute stretch through the city’s sprawling streets, but they never made it straight there. Halfway through, Jae pulled into a secluded alley behind a shuttered warehouse, the SUV’s tires crunching over gravel. Missy’s stomach tightened, not from fear but from the monotony of it all. She knew the routine.
Marcus shifted closer, his hand resting on her thigh, fingers tracing lazy circles over her skin. “You know,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear, “you make this harder than it needs to be.”
She turned to him, her expression flat. “And you make it longer than it needs to be.”
He laughed, low and throaty, as Jae killed the engine and turned to face them. The alley was dim, the morning light barely filtering through the grimy buildings. The air inside the SUV grew thick, charged with anticipation. Missy unbuttoned her blouse with practiced efficiency, revealing a simple white bra that cradled her breasts, the faint outline of her nipples visible through the thin fabric. She shimmied her skirt up to her hips, exposing her smooth, bare mound, glistening faintly in the low light.
Marcus’s hands were on her first, calloused fingers sliding under her bra to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they hardened under his touch. She bit her lip, suppressing a shiver, her body responding despite her mind’s indifference. Jae climbed into the backseat, his bulk making the space feel smaller, his hands deftly unbuckling his belt. The sound of the zipper was sharp in the quiet, followed by the rustle of fabric as he freed himself, his erection already straining.
“On your knees,” Jae said, his voice low but firm. Missy complied, shifting to straddle Marcus’s lap in reverse, her back to his chest, her skirt bunched around her waist. She braced her hands on the front seats, her ponytail swaying as Marcus guided her hips down. His cock, thick and warm, pressed against her entrance, and she exhaled slowly as he eased inside her, the stretch familiar but still intense. Her walls gripped him tightly, slick from her body’s reluctant arousal, and he groaned, his hands gripping her hips.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Marcus muttered, his lips brushing her neck. He thrust up slowly, deliberately, each movement sending a ripple of sensation through her. Missy’s breath hitched, her fingers digging into the leather seats. She didn’t hate the feeling—the warmth, the fullness—but it wasn’t pleasure she chased. It was just… happening.
Jae knelt on the floorboard in front of her, his cock level with her face. “Open,” he said, and she did, her lips parting to take him in. His taste was musky, familiar, and she worked her tongue around him, hollowing her cheeks as he guided her head with a gentle but insistent grip. The SUV rocked slightly with their movements, the air growing humid, scented with sweat and sex.
Marcus’s pace quickened, his thrusts deeper, hitting a spot inside her that made her gasp around Jae’s length. Her breasts bounced slightly with each thrust, her bra pushed up to expose them fully, nipples dark and erect. Jae’s hand slid down to pinch one, rolling it between his fingers, and she moaned involuntarily, the sound muffled. The sensation was a mix of pleasure and irritation—she didn’t want to enjoy this, but her body didn’t care.
“Careful, man,” Marcus said, his voice strained as he slowed his rhythm. “Don’t wanna knock her up. Condoms ain’t perfect.”
Jae snorted, his hips rocking gently as Missy’s lips slid over him. “She’s on the pill, right, Missy?”
She pulled back just enough to mutter, “Yeah,” before Jae guided her back down. The mention of pregnancy was a fleeting annoyance, a reminder of the risks she’d already calculated and dismissed. The pill was her safeguard, her control in a situation where she had little else.
Marcus’s hands tightened on her hips, his thrusts growing erratic. “Gonna come,” he warned, and before she could respond, he buried himself deep, his cock pulsing as he released inside her. The warmth of his cum filled her, a sticky heat that spread through her core. She clenched around him, her body reacting instinctively, milking every drop. He groaned, his head falling back against the seat, and Missy felt the familiar slickness as he softened inside her, a faint trickle seeping out to coat her inner thighs.
Jae wasn’t far behind. His grip on her hair tightened, and with a low grunt, he came, his release spilling into her mouth. She swallowed reflexively, the taste sharp and salty, then pulled back, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. A few drops had escaped, staining the collar of her blouse, a creamy white against the crisp fabric. She sighed, already mentally cataloging the laundry she’d need to do later.
They straightened up, the men tucking themselves away as Missy adjusted her clothes, the dampness between her legs a constant reminder. Her skirt was wrinkled, her blouse slightly askew, and she could feel Marcus’s cum still leaking out, soaking into her panties. The sensation was uncomfortable, sticky, but she’d grown used to it.
The rest of the drive to campus was silent, save for the hum of the engine. Missy stared out the window, her reflection faint in the glass. She didn’t feel violated, not exactly—just detached, like an actor playing a role she hadn’t auditioned for. The men dropped her off at the campus gates, and she walked to class, her thighs rubbing together, the residue of their encounter lingering.
Chapter 2
The day passed in a blur of lectures and notes, her mind only half-present. By the time she returned home, the sun was dipping low, casting the apartment in a warm orange glow. Jae and Marcus were already there, lounging in the living room, the TV droning in the background. The air smelled of takeout—greasy fried rice and soy sauce.
“Dinner first?” Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow.
Missy dropped her backpack by the door, kicking off her sneakers. “Whatever,” she said, her tone flat but not hostile. She headed to her room to change, but Jae caught her wrist, pulling her toward the couch.
“Not yet,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing. “We’ve got time.”
She sighed, letting herself be guided to the couch. This time, it was doggy style, her knees sinking into the worn cushions, her hands gripping the armrest. Jae took her from behind, his hands on her hips, his cock sliding into her with ease, her body still slick from the morning. The living room was warm, the air thick with the scent of their bodies and the faint hum of the city outside. Her skirt was hiked up again, her panties pulled to the side, and she felt the cool leather of the couch against her palms as Jae thrust into her, steady and deep.
Marcus watched from the recliner, his eyes dark with interest. “Look at that ass,” he murmured, leaning forward. “Fuckin’ perfect.”
Missy’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing, focusing on the rhythm, the way Jae’s movements sent ripples of sensation through her. Her breasts swayed beneath her, freed from her bra, and she felt the faint ache in her core, a mix of overstimulation and reluctant arousal. Jae’s pace quickened, his breaths coming in short bursts, and soon he was spilling inside her, his cum mixing with the remnants of Marcus’s from earlier. The warmth was overwhelming, a sticky flood that dripped down her thighs as he pulled out, leaving her panting.
She stayed there for a moment, her forehead resting on the armrest, her body slick with sweat and cum. Her panties were soaked, clinging to her skin, and she could feel the residue seeping into the fabric of her skirt. Marcus stood, already unbuckling his belt, ready for his turn, but Missy waved him off.
Chapter 3
“Enough,” she said, her voice firm but tired. “I need a shower.”
He chuckled but didn’t push, and she retreated to the bathroom, the tile cold under her feet. In the mirror, she saw herself: flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, her blouse stained and her skirt crumpled. She stripped, letting the clothes fall to the floor, and stepped into the shower, the hot water washing away the stickiness, the evidence of her day. But even as the water cascaded over her, she knew tomorrow would be the same. It wasn’t love, wasn’t hate—just life, as it was now.
The next morning dawned gray and heavy, the sky outside Missy’s window a slate of clouds that mirrored her mood. She woke to the faint buzz of her alarm, her body aching in places she’d grown accustomed to ignoring. The sheets beneath her were still faintly damp from last night’s encounter, the faint musky scent of Jae lingering despite her efforts to clean up. She rolled out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor, and stretched, her tank top riding up to reveal the smooth curve of her waist. Her C-cup breasts, still tender, pressed against the thin fabric, her nipples faintly visible as she moved. At twenty, her Korean-American features—high cheekbones, almond eyes, and golden skin—were striking even in the dim morning light, though the faint shadows under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion.
She glanced at herself in the mirror, her long black hair tangled from sleep, her lips slightly swollen from last night’s activities. Her intimate areas, shaved bare as always, felt sensitive as she slipped into fresh underwear, a simple black thong that clung to her hips. She chose a fitted gray sweater and tight jeans for the day, the denim hugging her toned legs and pert ass, a subtle defiance in dressing for herself rather than them. But she knew the outfit wouldn’t change the routine.
Downstairs, the apartment smelled of coffee and burnt toast. Marcus was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone, his long legs draped over the armrest. Jae was in the kitchen, pouring coffee into a chipped mug, his broad shoulders tense as he glanced her way. “Morning, princess,” Marcus called, his voice laced with that teasing edge she’d come to expect.
“Don’t call me that,” Missy snapped, grabbing an apple from the counter. She bit into it, the tart juice sharp on her tongue, grounding her for a moment. Jae handed her a thermos of coffee, his fingers brushing hers, and she pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes with a look that said *not now*.
The drive to campus started as usual, the SUV’s hum a familiar backdrop. Missy sat in the backseat, her backpack on her lap, staring out the window at the city waking up—vendors setting up carts, joggers weaving through early commuters. But the air in the car felt heavier today, charged with an unspoken tension. Marcus turned in his seat, his dark eyes glinting. “You were feisty last night,” he said, his grin sly. “Got me thinkin’ about round two.”
She sighed, her fingers tightening around the thermos. “Can we just get to school?”
Jae chuckled from the driver’s seat, but his eyes flicked to her in the rearview mirror, assessing. “Plenty of time,” he said, and her stomach sank as he took a familiar turn, pulling into a quiet lot behind an abandoned strip mall. The gravel crunched under the tires, the sound too loud in the morning stillness.
Missy’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t protest. What was the point? She unbuckled her seatbelt, her movements mechanical, and climbed into the back with Marcus, who was already unzipping his jeans. His cock sprang free, thick and ready, and she felt that familiar mix of resignation and reluctant arousal. She tugged her jeans down to her knees, revealing her black thong, the fabric already damp from her body’s traitorous response. Her sweater stayed on, clinging to her curves, her breasts straining against it as she positioned herself on all fours across the backseat.
Marcus didn’t waste time. He pulled her thong aside, his fingers brushing her bare, slick folds, and she shivered, her body betraying her with a soft gasp. “Always ready, huh?” he murmured, his voice low and smug. He entered her from behind, doggy style, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust deep, filling her with a single, smooth motion. The stretch was intense, her walls clenching around him, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan. The SUV rocked slightly, the windows fogging with their breath, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.
Jae watched from the front, his eyes dark with hunger. “Fuck, that’s a view,” he said, adjusting himself through his pants. Missy’s sweater rode up, exposing the small of her back, her skin glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. Her breasts swayed with each thrust, the fabric rubbing against her sensitive nipples, sending sparks of sensation through her. Marcus’s pace was relentless, his cock hitting deep, each thrust sending a jolt through her core. She hated how her body responded, the heat building despite her mind’s detachment, the slickness easing his movements.
“Gonna make a mess,” Marcus grunted, his grip tightening. She knew what he meant, and a flicker of annoyance crossed her face. “Don’t,” she said, her voice sharp, but he was already too far gone. With a low groan, he came, his cum flooding her, hot and thick, spilling out around his cock as he pulsed inside her. The warmth spread, sticky and overwhelming, dripping down her thighs as he pulled out, leaving her panting, her thong soaked and clinging to her skin. A few drops stained her jeans, a creamy white against the dark denim, and she cursed under her breath.
“Fuck’s sake, Marcus,” she muttered, sitting back and grabbing a tissue from her bag to wipe at the mess. The residue clung to her fingers, tacky and persistent, and she felt the weight of it—another mark, another reminder.
Jae climbed into the back, his erection straining against his pants. “My turn,” he said, his voice rough. Missy sighed, shifting to lie back across the seat, her legs spread, jeans still bunched around her knees. Jae didn’t bother undressing fully, just freed himself and positioned himself above her, missionary style. His cock slid into her easily, her body still slick with Marcus’s cum, and she gasped at the fullness, her hands gripping his shoulders. The car smelled of them now, musky and raw, the air humid and close.
Jae moved slower, more deliberate, his thrusts deep and steady, each one drawing a soft whimper from her lips. Her sweater was pushed up, exposing her breasts, the cool air teasing her nipples as they hardened. She felt the sticky mix of Marcus’s cum and her own arousal coating her inner thighs, the sensation both uncomfortable and strangely intimate. Jae’s hands roamed her body, one cupping her breast, thumb brushing her nipple, the other gripping her thigh, holding her open.
“You’re gonna get me pregnant one day,” she said, half-joking, half-serious, her voice breathy as he thrust deeper.
He smirked, his eyes locked on hers. “Pill’s got you covered, right?”
She didn't answer, just arched her back as he hit a spot that made her toes curl, her body chasing release despite her mind's protest. When he came, it was with a low grunt, his cum adding to the mess inside her, spilling out as he pulled away. The warmth was overwhelming, a sticky flood that soaked her thong further, dripping onto the leather seat. Her jeans were a lost cause now, the fabric stained and damp, and she felt the residue clinging to her skin, a constant reminder as she adjusted her clothes.
Chapter 4
By the time Missy got home that evening, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the apartment in the blue-gray light of dusk. She dropped her backpack by the door, the weight of the day settling into her shoulders. Her jeans were still damp from the morning, the stain from Marcus's cum dried into a faint crusty patch on the inner thigh, uncomfortable but something she'd gotten used to ignoring. She kicked off her sneakers and padded into the living room, where Marcus and Jae were sprawled on the couch, a basketball game playing on the TV, the commentary droning in the background.
"Hey," she said flatly, heading toward the kitchen. Her stomach growled, reminding her she'd skipped lunch.
"Yo, Missy," Marcus called, not looking away from the screen. "There's leftover pizza in the fridge. Still warm, probably."
She grabbed a slice, the cheese congealed but edible, and leaned against the counter, chewing mechanically. Jae glanced back at her, his eyes trailing over her body—the way her gray sweater clung to her breasts, the curve of her hips in the tight jeans. "Got homework?" he asked, his tone casual but loaded.
"Some," she said, taking another bite. "I'll do it later."
"Good," Marcus said, finally turning to look at her, his grin lazy. "'Cause we got time to kill."
Missy sighed, setting the pizza down. She knew the drill. No point in delaying. She walked over to the couch, her bare feet silent on the hardwood, and Marcus shifted, spreading his legs wider, making space. "C'mere," he said, patting his lap. She climbed onto the couch, her knees sinking into the worn cushions as she positioned herself over him, facing away, her back to his chest. Reverse cowgirl. He liked this one—gave him a good view of her ass, the way it moved as she rode him.
She tugged her jeans and thong down to her thighs, the fabric bunching awkwardly, and felt Marcus's hands on her hips, guiding her down. His cock was already hard, pressing against her entrance, still slick from the morning's mess. She lowered herself onto him, the stretch familiar, her walls gripping him as he filled her. "Fuck," he muttered, his hands squeezing her ass, spreading her cheeks slightly. "Still tight."
Jae stood, unbuckling his belt, and moved in front of her. She leaned forward slightly, her hands bracing on Marcus's thighs as Jae guided his cock to her lips. She opened, taking him in, the musky taste coating her tongue as she worked him, her head bobbing in rhythm with Marcus's thrusts from below. The couch creaked under their combined weight, the TV still blaring in the background, the game's crowd noise mixing with the wet sounds of their bodies.
Marcus's pace was steady, his hips rocking up into her, each thrust sending a ripple through her body. Her breasts bounced slightly under her sweater, the fabric rubbing against her nipples, making them harden. She felt the slickness between her legs, a mix of her arousal and the residue from earlier, easing Marcus's movements. Jae's hand tangled in her hair, not rough but firm, guiding her as she sucked him, her cheeks hollowing with effort.
"Damn, look at that," Marcus said, his voice thick. "Takin' both of us like a champ."
She didn't respond, couldn't, her mouth full, her body caught in the rhythm they'd set. Her thighs burned slightly from the position, but she kept moving, her hips grinding down on Marcus, feeling him deep inside. Jae groaned, his grip tightening, and she knew he was close. Sure enough, a few moments later, he came, his release spilling into her mouth, warm and salty. She swallowed, pulling back to catch her breath, a thin strand of cum connecting her lips to his tip before breaking.
Marcus wasn't far behind. His thrusts grew erratic, deeper, and with a low grunt, he came, his cock pulsing inside her, filling her with another load. The warmth spread, familiar and sticky, and she felt it leaking out around him as he held her hips down, making sure every drop stayed inside. When he finally let her go, she lifted off, his cum immediately dripping down her thighs, soaking into her bunched jeans and thong.
"Shit," she muttered, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table to wipe at the mess. The fabric of her jeans was damp again, a fresh stain joining the dried one from earlier. She pulled her clothes back up, the sticky residue clinging to her skin, uncomfortable but manageable.
"Go clean up," Jae said, tucking himself back into his pants. "We'll order some food."
Missy nodded, heading to the bathroom. She stripped off her jeans and thong, tossing them into the hamper—another load of laundry to deal with. She wiped herself down with a damp cloth, the cool water soothing against her heated skin, but she didn't bother with a full shower yet. She pulled on a pair of loose shorts and a tank top, her body still humming faintly from the encounter, and returned to the living room.
The three of them ate dinner together—Chinese takeout this time, orange chicken and fried rice—while half-watching another game on TV. The conversation was mundane: Marcus complained about traffic, Jae mentioned a work issue with a shipment, Missy talked briefly about an upcoming exam. It was almost normal, if you ignored the cum still drying on her inner thighs, the faint ache between her legs.
After dinner, she retreated to her room to tackle her homework, spreading her textbooks and notes across her bed. She managed about an hour before Jae knocked on her door, pushing it open without waiting for an answer. "You done?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
"Almost," she said, not looking up from her laptop.
"Take a break," he said, stepping inside. She sighed, closing her laptop. She knew what he wanted.
He guided her to lie back on the bed, her textbooks pushed aside, and climbed on top of her. Missionary this time. He pulled her shorts and panties off, tossing them to the floor, and spread her legs, positioning himself between them. His cock slid into her easily, her body still slick from earlier, and she gasped softly at the fullness. He moved slowly at first, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his hands gripping her thighs to hold her open.
"You feel good," he murmured, his breath hot against her neck. She didn't reply, just let her body respond, her hips tilting to meet his thrusts. Her tank top was pushed up, exposing her breasts, and he leaned down to suck on one nipple, his tongue circling the sensitive peak. She bit her lip, suppressing a moan, her hands gripping the sheets.
Marcus appeared in the doorway, watching, his arms crossed. "Saving any for me?" he asked, grinning.
Jae chuckled, not slowing his pace. "Maybe. Depends how long she lasts."
But Missy was already tired, her body worn from the day. When Jae came, his release flooding her, she just lay there, feeling the warmth spread, his cum mixing with the remnants of Marcus's from earlier. He pulled out, and she felt it leak out, soaking into the sheets beneath her. Jae stepped back, pulling his pants up, and Marcus shook his head. "Nah, I'm good for tonight," he said. "She looks beat."
Missy didn't argue. She pulled her shorts back on, not bothering with panties, and shoved her textbooks onto the floor. The bed was damp beneath her, the sheets stained with cum and sweat, but she was too exhausted to care. She set her alarm for the next morning, the screen's glow harsh in the dim room, and turned off the light. Within minutes, she was asleep, her body still sticky, the cycle set to repeat tomorrow.