As the night wore on, the energy softened. They finished the pizza, pulled out blankets, and dimd the lights for a movie. Marisol ended up on one side of Bharath, Sarah tucked against his other.
And to the girls’ silent agreent, Mia nestled in between his legs, resting her back against his chest despite Bharath’s protests. He tried to pushed her off him but was pinned under both Marisol and Sarah. He tried to protest but Sarah captured his mouth in a passionate kiss followed by Marisol. By the ti they finished kissing him, he forgot what he wanted to protest about. Still, he was stunned that both girls didn’t seem to mind Mia arranging herself on him like this. She had set her t-shirt such that she almost appeared topless - and yet his girls didn’t have a problem with that! They just continued to kiss him and cuddle into him as if Mia wasn’t even there. Bharath was both in heaven and hell at the sa ti.
As the opening credits rolled, the couch shifted and sighed under the weight of four entangled bodies and one slowly unraveling self-control.
Marisol was curled on his right, her hand already resting lightly on his chest, fingers absently tracing the thin fabric of his T-shirt. Sarah, warm and lithe on his left, snuggled into his shoulder like it was her personal pillow. Her legs were curled beneath her, one knee brushing the outer edge of his thigh. They’d done this countless tis. It should’ve felt normal by now.
It didn’t.
Not with Mia. He voiced his concern again.
“Wait, why is Mia-”
“She’s cold,” Sarah had said.
“You’re a nice heater,” Marisol added sweetly, patting his thigh.
“You’ll survive,” Mia whispered with a devilish grin.
He’d opened his mouth to try again - and Marisol had simply silenced him with a kiss.
“Shhh. Be a good couch boyfriend for my sister. Watch the movie. Don't worry, we'll protect you from Mia if needed.”
Bharath sat back confused and aroused in equal parts. Which red blooded straight man wouldn't want Mia like this… but this was wrong. He looked at Sarah and she just blew him a kiss as well.
This had to be a test on his fidelity to the girls.
Now, as the film flickered across the screen, Bharath was acutely aware of every milliter of contact.
Mia was… everywhere.
Her hips nestled between his thighs. Her body leaned into his chest. And her cleavage - impossible not to notice - was on full display, her long hair cascading to one side, framing the swell of her breasts like a spotlight. He tried to keep his gaze respectful. Noble. Upstanding.
He failed.
And then Mia shifted.
She rolled her hips just slightly, as if adjusting for comfort - but Bharath felt the deliberate slow press of her against him.
His breath hitched.
She’d felt it.
Of course she had.
The stiff betrayal in his bottoms was now pressing firmly against the base of her spine, and her body - soft and mischievous - molded into it like she was sculpted for the sole purpose of tornting him.
Mia didn’t say a word.
She just wiggled slightly, like she was trying to get even more comfortable. She delighted in feeling the thickness of his hard cock against her bottom.
Bharath tensed. He dared not move. Surely she could feel him. Why wasn’t she moving off him?
He almost pushed her off again, unable to process the stimulation but Marisol and Sarah were still pinning him down discussing the movie amongst themselves. The line was right there - bold and clear. But her body kept moving, and his breath caught. He wasn’t sure if he was chasing pleasure or just trying not to drown in it.
His arms, previously resting on either side of her, now clutched the throw blanket like a lifeline.
Sarah noticed first.
Her voice ca like a lazy tease. “You okay, baby?”
“I…” He cleared his throat. “I think Mia’s in the wrong spot. She may be uncomfortable and needs to get off. “
“She looks fine to ,” Sarah said, eyes glinting. “Mari?”
Marisol glanced lazily at her sister.
God, Mia looked radiant. Reckless.
Like her.
It made her breath catch - and not just from lust.
A twisted part of her wanted to see what would happen next. What Bharath would do if Mia pushed further.
What she would feel - watching her baby sister surrender the way she had.
Her thighs squeezed together involuntarily.
What the hell is wrong with …
Marisol yawned. “She’s adorable. And warm. And you’re kind of like our shared pillow-slash-furnace, so hush.”
Marisol’s voice was dreamy. Affectionate. Not jealous. Not even wary.
Was she complinting her sister’s body?
His eyes darted to Sarah, whose grin was unmistakably dirty - and sohow proud.
Mia groaned as if Bharath was goading her. “Stop complaining Bharath. You’re just a comfy pillow. Get used to it.”
“This is a dream,” he muttered to himself. “This is a fever dream.”
This wasn’t happening.
Not really.
He looked at Sarah for rescue, at Marisol for correction - but both were just lounging on him like nothing was wrong. Like it was normal for a nearly-naked Mia to mold herself against his lap like a living fantasy.
Why were they testing him? He had done nothing to deserve this!
His mind raced. Was this so twisted lesson in self-control? A performance of trust? Or worse - were they actually serious about Mia joining them? Surely not!
He bit down a groan.
Marisol didn’t even look. “Do you need to be excused, amor?”
Bharath hissed at Marisol, “I think she’s trying to seduce . Stop moving like that Mia!”
“Like this?” asked Mia doing it again making Bharath groan.
Marisol looked at Bharath, “She tries this with everyone amor. Stop flattering yourself.”
He didn’t respond. Couldn’t. His erection was pressing so hard against Mia it was embarrassing. His hands clenched into fists. He wanted to push her off and yet he wanted to pull her tighter to him as well. She felt so good on him.
He should stop this. Say sothing or push her off. Yes he was pinned down but he was stronger than them. He should be the noble man the girls always believed him to be. But this wasn’t lust anymore-it was a tide, warm and terrifying, eroding everything he thought he knew about boundaries. She was his apsara’s sister! His student. And yet… his traitorous body couldn’t do more - didn’t do more. He wanted Mia and didn’t want her at the sa ti.
He didn’t know which urge terrified him more.
“I hate all of you,” he whispered.
Sarah giggled and kissed his shoulder. “We know.”
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