*Strong Sexual content ahead*
The curtain inside was mostly shut—but there was a crack. Just wide enough for an eye to peer through.
Mike hesitated.
He knew it was wrong.
But his hands moved anyway.
He leaned forward, pressing one eye to the gap.
And what he saw froze him in place.
Inside the room, his mother lay on her back, bathed in the dim golden light of a bedside lamp. Her legs were hooked around his father's waist, her face flushed, mouth parted in a cry of pleasure. Her eyes were closed, lost completely in the moment. His father moved above her, slow and strong, his muscles tensed with every thrust.
Mike's breath caught in his throat.
He wasn't supposed to see this.
He shouldn't be watching.
But he couldn't stop.
His heartbeat roared in his ears. His hands trembled slightly, gripping the windowsill. He felt… awake. Aware of everything. The cold breeze, the pounding in his chest, the heat building between his legs.
"This is… real," he whispered.
His mother cried out again, louder now, her fingers curling into the sheets. His father groaned, the bed creaking harder with every motion.
Mike's fingers pressed tighter to the wood.
He felt like something inside him had snapped open—some locked part of him, now wide and hungry. And the book… the book had started it.
A gust of wind swept across the yard. The curtains inside fluttered slightly—almost revealing more. Mike leaned in closer, his breath fogging the glass.
Then a voice whispered in his ear.
But no one was there.
It was inside him.
"Desire is a form of magic too, Mike… Watch. Learn. Control."
His eyes widened.
His mother's voice echoed one more time—soft, drawn-out, filled with pure pleasure.
Inside, the flicker of candlelight danced across the walls, painting their shadows in soft, wavering strokes. Leon stood by the hearth, his broad shoulders tense, eyes tracing the curve of Selene's silhouette as she slipped off her shawl, letting it pool on the wooden floor.
"Selene," he murmured, voice low, rough with unspoken need. She turned, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, catching the light like a cascade of midnight. Her eyes, sharp and knowing, met his, a silent challenge sparking between them.
"Don't just stand there," she teased, stepping closer, her bare feet silent against the floorboards. The thin fabric of her dress clung to her, outlining the swell of her boobs, a sight that sent heat coiling through Leon's chest. He crossed the room in two strides, hands finding her waist, pulling her flush against him. Her breath hitched, a soft moan escaping her lips as his fingers traced the curve of her hips.
"You drive me mad," he whispered, lips brushing her ear. Selene's hands slid up his chest, nails grazing his skin through his shirt, igniting sparks that made his pulse race. She tilted her head, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was all fire and hunger, her tongue teasing his, drawing a groan from deep within him. The world narrowed to the heat of her body, the press of her boobs against him, soft and warm through the fabric.
They stumbled toward the bed, laughter mixing with their moans, a shared rhythm of want and familiarity. Selene tugged at his shirt, impatient, and he obliged, yanking it over his head. Her fingers roamed his bare skin, mapping scars and muscle with a reverence that made his heart stutter. "You're beautiful," she said, voice husky, and he felt the truth of it in her touch.
Leon's hands found the ties of her dress, loosening them with care, letting the fabric slip down to reveal her skin, luminous in the candlelight. He paused, drinking in the sight of her—boobs full and inviting, the gentle curve of her waist, the promise of her pussy hidden beneath the last scrap of cloth. "Gods, Selene," he breathed, reverence and desire tangling in his tone. She smirked, bold and unashamed, pulling him down onto the bed.
Their kisses grew frantic, moans mingling as they pressed closer, skin to skin. Selene arched beneath him, her thighs parting, a silent invitation that made his blood roar. His hand slid lower, teasing, finding her wet and ready, her pussy slick with need. She gasped, a moan tearing from her throat, fingers digging into his shoulders. "Leon," she pleaded, voice breaking, and he answered with slow, deliberate touches, savoring every shudder, every sound she made.
The bed creaked beneath them, a quiet counterpoint to their shared rhythm. Selene's hands roamed his back, urging him closer, her boobs pressed against his chest as she rocked against him. "More," she whispered, and he obliged, their bodies finding a pace that was both desperate and tender. Her moans grew louder, unrestrained, echoing in the small room, and he felt himself unraveling, lost in the heat of her, the taste of her lips, the way her pussy clenched around him, pulling him deeper.
They moved together, a dance of fire and shadow, each touch a promise, each moan a vow. Selene's breath came in short, sharp gasps, her body trembling as she neared the edge. "Leon," she cried, voice raw, and he held her tight, chasing his own release, their shared climax a burst of light behind his eyes. They collapsed together, breathless, laughter bubbling up as they clung to each other, sweat-slick and sated.
As their breathing slowed, Selene traced lazy circles on his chest, her boobs soft against his side. "We're not done yet," she murmured, a wicked glint in her eye. Leon grinned, already stirring, knowing the night was far from over.
The book in his hand pulsed faintly, its edges glowing with a soft golden light. He looked down at it, startled, then back up through the crack.
Mike stepped back.
He felt dizzy. Shaken. But more alive than he ever had.
The magic wasn't just in the words. It was feeding off moments like these-off emotion, taboo, lust.
He turned, clutching the book, and whispered, "I want more..."
As he slipped back inside, one thought followed him down the hallway:
This isn't the end. It's just the beginning.