Chapter 64
Written by Bayzo Albion
I didn't hold back my affection. My hands slid along her back, savoring the warmth of her skin beneath the rising steam. She let out a soft, involuntary sound when my fingers traced lower, her breath catching as she shifted closer, settling onto my lap with a natural, instinctive certainty. The moment wrapped around us like heat — slow, intense, almost ceremonial.
The rhythm of our bodies wasn't hurried or crude; it flowed like a shared heartbeat. Water rippled gently around us, steam curling upward as if time itself had paused to watch. Every shiver, every whispered breath carried a deeper meaning — something raw yet strangely tender, a fleeting connection born in a place where all boundaries softened.
"You're… unbelievable…" she murmured, her voice thick with emotion as she moved closer still, her forehead brushing mine.
At that moment, her sister emerged from the water, joining the embrace with serene confidence. She leaned in, her lips brushing along the other's collarbone, tracing delicate patterns that made her tremble in my arms. It was a dance between them — fluid, wordless, harmonious.
"I'm just a man in paradise," I whispered, pulling them both against me, the warmth of their bodies blending with the heat of the bath. "Finally allowing myself things I once thought were forbidden."
The bathwater churned softly around us, as though the very springs were responding to the rising heat between our bodies. The twin in front of me moved with newfound confidence, drawing closer, her breath mingling with mine. Damp strands of hair clung to her neck, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that matched the pulse thrumming through the air. Her eyes—dark, fathomless—locked onto mine with a quiet hunger that needed no words.
The other sister emerged from the water behind me, pressing her warmth against my back. Her arms slipped around my chest in a slow, enveloping embrace, her breath brushing my ear like a trembling confession.
"You smell… intoxicating," she whispered. "Like life… strength… something I can't resist…"
Her lips traced gentle, lingering kisses along my neck and shoulder, each touch sending a heated shiver through my body. Her hands moved with bold curiosity, exploring the lines of my torso before meeting her sister's, their fingers intertwining in a seamless, unified motion.
The two of them moved with such perfect synchronicity that it felt impossible to distinguish one from the other—two presences merging into a single, enveloping warmth. Caught between them, I felt myself dissolving into the moment, losing track of where I ended and their shared closeness began.
The girl above me trembled, her breath catching in uneven waves. Her movements grew more urgent, her fingers tightening on my shoulders as if she were being swept toward an irresistible breaking point.
A soft cry escaped her lips—a raw, vulnerable sound—her body shuddering like a string pulled taut and finally released. She leaned into me, trembling, her forehead pressing against mine as the moment washed through her with overwhelming intensity.
I felt my own composure slipping, the tension inside me building to a sharp, consuming peak. The heat, the closeness, the way her pulse fluttered against my chest—it all overwhelmed the last threads of restraint. I held her tightly as the pressure broke, a surge of warmth and release flooding through me, leaving my legs weak and my breath unsteady.
She slumped against me, spent and quiet, her heartbeat syncing with mine. Warm hands—hers and her sister's—glided gently over my face, my neck, my chest. Their touch was soothing and reverent, like a ritual of gratitude and devotion. The three of us drifted together in the glowing calm that followed, the bathwater shimmering around us as if reflecting the fading echoes of our shared breath.
"Master…" one whispered softly, brushing her cheek against mine. "Paradise isn't enough for someone like you. You create paradise."
"Then let it last," I murmured, lifting the cup of wine to my lips. "Let this moment be eternal."
Silence settled—not empty, but full. Dense with warmth, breath, the soft hum of life. Steam curled around our bodies, mingling with the subtle scent of wine and skin. Everything outside us faded, leaving only the three of us—held together by shared heat and unspoken bonds.
I closed my eyes, letting myself drift. There was no before, no after—only this suspended, perfect "now," a moment so complete that even gods might envy it.
And if this place was truly my paradise, I was ready to embrace its sweetness without fear.
– – –
I didn't waste a single moment. Every spare second went into perfecting the cigarette. I'd turned it into a masterpiece, a wonder of the tobacco realm. It was no longer just a nicotine delivery system—it was breath alchemy. Each drag filled me with a cool menthol breeze, like a spring wind caressing my lungs, while the sweet mint flavor lingered on my tongue, fading into the air like invisible kisses.
I smoked it slowly, savoring every instant, then ate the filter at the end. It melted on my tongue like cotton candy, but with a tart-sweet raspberry tang. A hint of sourness first, then velvety sweetness, and finally, complete dissolution—as if it had never existed. No ash, no litter. Just a clean, magical aftertaste.
"Phew, bro, what the hell are you doing?" a familiar voice cut in. My double materialized before me, his face twisted like he'd caught me in some act of depravity.
"I'm a considerate god," I drawled lazily, eyes fixed on the dissipating smoke curling toward the sky. "Over thirty percent of the world's trash is cigarette butts. They're a plague on beaches. I'm just sparing our world from that mess."
"Eating trash? That's... original," he snorted, rolling his eyes. "But hey, we're in paradise, where even shit could smell like vanilla. Whatever, I'm not here to judge."
He leaned in closer, dropping his voice as if afraid of eavesdroppers:
"I need money."
"Ha, look at you. Begging from yourself?" I chuckled. "Admit it, that's downright divine."
"I'm no shady investor," he jabbed a finger at his chest. "I'm *you*. So, I'm asking not out of greed, but self-care. You always said: if you want help, help yourself first."
"That sounded so philosophical, I'm actually moved," I said, raising my glass in a mock toast and taking a dramatic sip. "Fine, I'll give you money. It's not like we earn it through sweat and blood, right?"
"We don't earn it," his grin widened. "We attract it. With charisma... and a dash of lust."
"You still see yourself as my enemy?" I narrowed my eyes.
"Nah. More like... a rival in loving life."
"Doesn't matter to me. Enemies, friends—it's all semantics now. Boundaries blurred ages ago in this world," I replied. "So, what do you say? Help me make some cash?"
"This isn't work, bro. It's a dream," he said with effortless charm, as if describing an upcoming feast.
My double slipped into the bath without a word, the water closing over him in slow ripples. A moment later, one of the twins followed, diving beneath the surface with a quick flash of movement. Only drifting bubbles remained.
I stood waist-deep in the steaming water, wine glass in hand, the heat and haze blurring the edge between me and my double—between desire and something more arcane.
The twins moved around us like silent spirits, their forms half-hidden by steam. Hands brushed my skin—light, practiced, almost ritualistic. Nothing crude, nothing rushed. Just warmth, closeness, and a sense of being quietly claimed. Their touches overlapped, guiding my body with soft, synchronized gestures that felt more like a ceremony than affection.
"Paradise suits us," my double murmured lazily nearby, reclining as another pair of arms wrapped around him from behind.
I let myself sink into the moment. Steam curled upward. Water shivered around our bodies. The twins drew nearer, their movements fluid and wordless, their presence weaving around mine until I could no longer tell where one sensation ended and another began.
Nothing loud. Nothing obscene.
Just heat, closeness, and a strange, dreamlike unity that made the world outside dissolve into mist.
– – –
I felt myself sinking into pleasure, the way someone slips into water that's a little too warm—comforting at first, then disorienting once you realize the ground has vanished beneath your feet. My will loosened. My thoughts softened. Everything around me blurred into something dreamlike, dangerously pleasant, as if the world itself were inviting me to drift away and never return.
My double — or maybe the truer version of myself — was enjoying the twins with carefree abandon. Watching him, a sudden chill threaded through the haze. I felt myself forgetting… me. Forgetting what I was made of, where my edges ended, and where his began.
And an unsettling thought struck me:
if I let go completely, if I surrendered to this bliss… I might vanish.
Slip out of existence the same way people die in their sleep — quietly, painlessly, unknowingly.
I hurled the wine bottle aside.
The splash sounded like someone slapping sense back into me.
Smoking, drinking — all of it suddenly felt pointless. Like extra chains I'd willingly wrapped around my own mind.
My gaze drifted back to my double, and for the first time I realized how much I missed his cruel voice. The one that usually reminded me of every scar on my soul, every failure that shaped me, every truth I tried to outrun. That voice grounded me… hurt me… kept me real.
But then another thought slipped in, softer and far more dangerous:
Why cling to the life I had before?
Why clutch old wounds like treasured relics?
Why fear the loss of a self I never loved to begin with?
I've lived more than I expected.
I've felt more than I deserved.
And right now —
I regret nothing.