"Oh my…" Maggie whispered, her eyes locked onto the sack Steven raised before her.
Her steps moved involuntarily, as if drawn by an unseen force. She stretched out her hand, her fingers trembling slightly before grabbing hold of it.
She opened it and her eyes widened as a sharp gasp escaped her lips.
"That's… that's wonderful!" she screamed, a bright smile lighting up her face as her hands reached into the sack. Her voice rose again with another delighted scream.
"It's meat!"
She spun her head toward him, eyes shining with surprise.
"How did you… how did you get it like this? I mean, it's all cleaned and chopped up already! How—how did you—?"
Steven gave a small shrug, rubbing the back of his neck, feigning modesty.
"I… I was by the river." he said, voice casual, almost lazy.
"So I just took the liberty of preparing it enough for you. Thought, you know, seeing as we're low on decent meals, it might be a nice gift."
Her smile grew warmer, and she took a step forward, throwing her arms around him. The hug was soft, but her chest pressed against his with comforting heat. She held him for a moment longer than needed, and her voice came in a warm breath near his ear.
"Damn… yes, it's a wonderful gift."
She pulled back slightly, still close, her eyes twinkling.
"That's exactly what we needed," she said.
"Thank you, Steven. The whole household will appreciate this."
She offered him a grateful smile, and then turned, her steps quick and light. There was joy in the way she moved—pure joy. Just his presence had lit something in her. What he had brought them… it felt like a blessing.
Or at least that's what they thought.
Because what Steven had given wasn't just meat. It was an opportunity.
As Maggie busied herself in the kitchen, Steven stood where he was, eyes still fixed on her back. A mischievous smile crept up his face—chilling, sly, and deliberate.
He now had the chance to test out the system. The notebook. The tool that might grant him everything he wanted in his new found world.
***
Dinner went exactly as expected. Maggie prepared the meal and served it around the small wooden table.
The space was cramped but warm, and the household gathered—Steven, Maggie, Fiona, and Tonya.
They ate together, the aroma of the cooked meat filling the air, clinging to the low walls of the cottage. Conversations flowed as they shared stories about their day, laughing and gesturing as if the darkness outside had no place in here.
Steven listened, noting every word. Their rules, their customs, their magic.
Because women here were different.
Only women possessed magic.
Maggie had healing abilities.
Fiona wielded heavenly strength.
And Tonya… Tonya remained a mystery.
But even without knowing her abilities, one thing was clear— Tonya, Maggie and Fiona were both gifted. And he, a man… he was powerless. Futile.
But that didn't concern him.
Not tonight.
Because tonight, he had something else planned.
The sun dipped, casting a deep red shadow across the sky before vanishing. Nightfall descended, blanketing the village in silence. Each household retreated into their homes, candles blown out one by one.
Steven then, retired to his room, or rather, his shared room.
There were only two bedrooms in the house. With four people, they were paired up, and Steven had been placed with Fiona.
He stepped inside quietly. The room was dimly lit by moonlight slipping through the cracks of the wooden window. He approached the bed and lay down, his eyes shut—not sleeping, just waiting as his thoughts ran wild.
'All I have to do is just lie here.' he thought.
'This is just a test drive anyway. If it works, then I'll know this author's notebook is legit. If not…'
He puffed out a soft sigh, barely audible.
'Then I better start crafting the greatest explanation for what I'm about to do.'
Just then, the door creaked open.
Fiona stepped in.
She was wearing a thin nightdress. Soft, light clothes that clung slightly to her figure. Her curves were outlined by the pale moonlight, her large breasts shifting gently beneath the fabric as her protruding nipples gaped the thin cloth. Her eyes seemed dazed from sleep, or maybe something else, as she moved across the room.
A yawn escaped her lips.
She climbed onto the bed slowly, settling on her side and facing away from him. Her eyes closed, her chest rose and fell with each soft breath.
Then...there was silence.
Steven remained still for a moment, but his gaze drifted, unblinking.
She was right there.
His eyes trailed down her body.
And then they stopped.
Her ass.
It was full and round, perfectly shaped beneath the thin cloth, stretched toward him like an offering.
"Oh my…" he breathed internally. His heart thudded. His throat was dry.
"Am I really ready to do this?"
He remembered the notebook. Everything else had come to pass. Every strange thing, every word, every test.
"So this… shouldn't be any different," he thought.
"It has to work."
Still, he paused. He couldn't mess this up.
He adjusted himself quietly, rolling over to face her. Slowly, he inched closer. Every second felt like it stretched forever.
Closer.
Still no movement.
She was still facing away, her breathing calm.
He reached out, his hand moving gently.
Fingers hovered above her waist, trembling slightly. And then he stopped, just inches away.
His mind raced.
'Is she really asleep?' he thought.
'It's useless if she's asleep...should I wait? Or—'
Suddenly, Fiona shifted.
His hand froze in place.
She turned her head slightly, her eyes opening just a little. She didn't look surprised. Just calm. Drowsy.
Then, without a word, she reached back.
Her hand rested gently on his.
Steven's breath caught.
She was awake.
And she wasn't pushing him away.
In fact, her fingers curled slightly, pressing his hand closer to her waist. Then down.
His hand slid gently along her curves, feeling the warmth of her skin through the cloth.
"Damn…" he whispered silently, his eyes widening at the contact.
'Did she...Did she know.... And she didn't stop me.'
Fiona's breathing shifted. Still calm. Still slow. But there was a tension in the air now. A heat that hadn't been there before.
Steven moved closer, pressing his chest against her back. Yet, she didn't pull away.
He noticed how she slowly let the fabric fall across her waist. Then it draped lower—around her hips—softly sliding over his hand as it rested there.
Her curves were full, pronounced, and his palm instinctively moved, gently caressing along the arc of her hips. His touch was slow, deliberate, almost reverent. But still, Fiona didn't react. She remained silent.
He inched closer, his breath shallow, his heartbeat rising. At least now he was certain—or so he hoped—that she was his. Which meant he could finally feel what he had long yearned to touch. What he had craved.
His hand shifted slowly upward, fingers brushing softly over the smooth fabric until they reached her chest. And then—he felt it. Fiona's huge supple breast.
His hand molded carefully around it, fingers curving with a gentle grip, testing the softness he'd only imagined until now.
The fabric of the dress barely dulled the sensation. He could feel the supple weight of her tits in his palm, along with the warmth radiating through the thin cloth.
And without a second thought he took a single greedy squeeze of her breast, resulting in a deep sigh escaping from Fiona's lips as she gently adjusted herself closer to Steve.
'They're huge… so soft…'
It was more than he had imagined—more than he dared believe....and he was not ready to halt his pleasure.
***
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