~LENORA'S POV
"Dove."
Voices echoed from afar, muffled and distant like whispers carried on a far-off wind, yet their hands felt real, solid against my skin, gripping and pulling me deeper into the swirl of sensation.
Their faces remained shadowed, blurred edges that refused to sharpen no matter how hard I strained to see, but their differences were impossible to miss.
The one guiding me with steady, commanding pressure, the one holding me fiercely, growling low whenever I shifted, and the third tracing each curve with precise and deliberate care.
My first lover, dominant and unyielding, pinned my wrists above my head, his shadow pressing close with hot breath brushing my neck. His thick cock thrusting slow but deep, as if he knew exactly how to drive me wild without losing control.
The second, sharp and temperamental, hovered above me, his breath hot against my clit before his tongue flicked out. The cool metal of his piercing dragging across my swollen folds, lapping at me roughly, as the ball of the piercing pressed firm against my clit.
His grip was possessive, almost urgent, with fingers digging into my skin as he moved with erratic power, growls rumbling low, warning me and any other presence that I belonged to him.
My third lover knelt beside us with quiet precision, calm and calculating. Grappling my ankle tight and lifting my foot to his mouth. His lips wrapped around my big toe, sucking hard while his tongue swirled over the skin before moving to the next.
Every flick of his tongue, every slide of his hands, traced a path meant to draw out the fullest sensation without force. He followed the pattern of my body like a sculptor, outlining, flicking, teasing, every movement was exacting and calculated enough to make my senses scream.
I arched my back instinctively, wrapping my legs around the dominant one's waist, grinding into him as he guided me deeper, slow, controlled, commanding every movement.
"Oh my! Fuck!" I cried, lost in the collision of energies, the heat, the rhythm, the intensity of three different forces pressing against me.
The piercing on that tongue continued to circle my clit, sucking it between his lips with rough pulls. Pleasure spiked sharp and overwhelming, making my toes curled in the mouth still latched onto them.
My third lover left my feet, his hands slowly crept up, gripping my breast, fingers pinching my nipple making me gasp, with my mouth already in a silent 'o' shape.
He leaned down, latching his mouth onto the sensitive peak, sucking hard while his free hand slides between my thighs, opening my folds wider for both my first lover who was pounding into me relentlessly, and my second lover whose tongue was lapping my clit.
"Oh y-yes!" I cry out, the pleasure building as my first lover's pace quickens, his hips slamming against mine, hard.
In a blink of an eye, I was placed on my hands and knees, my first lover was beneath me, his cock sliding into my pussy as I lower myself onto him. He gripped my hips, guiding me down until he's fully sheathed, then bucks up to meet my rhythm.
"Dove." He moaned, hazy and low, vibrating through me as he cupped both my breasts which was swaying in his face, his mouth latching from one nipple to another with his teeth grazing the flesh.
My third lover stands in front of me, his erection bobbing near my face. I opened my mouth eagerly, and my tongue flicked out to lick the tip before sucking him in deep, hollowing my cheeks as I bob my head.
"Mmm!" I moan around his length, the vibration drawing a hazy groan from him.
My second lover positioned himself behind me, lifting my hips slightly. His cock pressed against my back, hard and insistent as it nudged between my ass cheeks.
He spat in my already stretched hole before pressing his cock inside, the tip breaching slow, then burying deep with a firm thrust that made me shudder.
The dual rhythm overwhelms me, cocks pistoning in and out, filling every inch of me. Saliva drips from my lips as I take my third lover deeper, gagging slightly but pushing on, lost in the intensity.
Every hole claimed, I tremble in their grasp, the sensations crashing together like waves as they move in unison, cocks driving deep, building the pressure until my muscles clench tight.
"Dove." My lover behind me moans into my ear and that pushes me over, as I shattered around them, orgasm ripping through me, pussy and ass pulsing around them as cum floods my mouth.
My body arched, clenching around the dominant one while quivering under the calculated teasing of the third and the possessive urgings of the second. Every nerve was alight, alive with a fire that had no name but was unmistakably theirs.
The other two kept going, their cocks in me swelled, thrusting erratic as they chased their release till they were both spilling inside me, their hands exploring my body roughly yet knowingly.
They were mine, these shadowy lovers, claiming me in this misty void, and I arched into their touch, my body alive with the fire they'd ignited time and again.
Exhausted, I collapsed onto all of them, trembling under the pressure, their shadows pressing into me from every side.
Their blurry forms began fading as the echoes softened to whispers then dissolving into silence.
And just as my muscles coiled tight in the peak of sensation, a voice, soft and certain, threaded through my mind—different from any I'd known,
"We are not done with you yet, Dove."
I jolted awake, a sharp inhale cutting through the heat still clinging to my skin. The fan spun lazily above me, damp sheets tangled around my legs as I tried to calm myself.
My dorm room greeted me, ordinary, pale, and familiar, but the tension lingered. I let out a tired sigh, before reaching for my phone on the nightstand.
The screen glowed softly in the dark.
1:03 a.m.
Too late to be awake. Too early to feel this exhausted.
I let the phone slip from my fingers and land back where it was, then stared up again, trying to calm the strange tension lurking in my chest.
I hugged the covers closer, telling myself it was just a dream. But the memory of their shadows, their differing pressures, the undeniable claim in every touch burned through me, and for a moment I could have sworn it lingered too long, as if something unseen had passed by.
You're half asleep, I told myself. That's all.
I turned onto my side, facing the wall, and squeezed my eyes shut. My body was heavy with exhaustion, as my thoughts slowed despite my uneasiness.
And then, just before sleep could claim me again, it returned, sliding into my thoughts uninvited and unmistakably not mine.
"We are not done with you, Dove."
~~~~~~~
"Happy birthday babe. Love, Jason."
Sent: 07:09am
"I'd be busy today, but we'd meet at the party tonight!"
Sent: 07:11am
"I promise l'll make it up to you. I love you!"
Sent: 07:11am
I stared at the text my boyfriend, Jason, had sent me. The phone screen dimmed, and my own reflection stared back, ghostlike. My chest tightened — not because of the words themselves, but because of what today was.
My birthday.
I tried to convince myself it was just another day, just another date on the calendar.
But my mum's voice already slithered through my thoughts, her words a familiar venom, reminding me of how my birth had ruined her life, all because of me - her one night mistake.
The memories flooded my mind, a never-ending reel of her coldness, her anger, her disappointment. I remembered the way she'd look at me, her eyes filled with a deep-seated loathing, as if I the bane of her existence.
I tossed my phone onto the bedside table, feeling a mix of dread and disappointment, waiting for the emotions to wash over me.
"You're up!" Skye, my roommate chirped, walking into the room, her bright smile a stark contrast to my dull morning.
She rummaged through her things before turning toward me with a white gift bag in hand, the tissue paper crinkling softly.
"I know you don't like your birthdays," she said, hesitating, "but I still wanted to get you something." Her eyes darting to the bag, then back to me, searching for any sign of reaction.
"Thank you," I appreciated, my fingers brushing against the soft fabric inside, before sending a quick thanks to Jason too.
I stood, the bed creaking beneath my weight, and shuffled toward the makeshift kitchen which smelled faintly of old oil and coffee grounds. And somehow, it was comfortingly familiar in a depressing way.
~~~~~~~
"I'm telling you, Len," Skye started with a mouth full of pancake, "The lady denied the whole scandal in front of everyone. She told Christine her husband looked like he had accidentally wandered onto Earth and no sane woman would want an alien for a lover."
I laughed, shaking my head. Honestly, it was more amusing than scandalous, because there were more jokes than actual drama, and that made it all the more entertaining.
It was Halloween morning, and our room smelled faintly of syrup and coffee which somehow feels like home.
The tiny space was scattered with textbooks, notebooks, and Skye's makeup kits. Skye, of course, was studying music, and she had a flair for turning even the dullest memory into a spectacle.
She lived for drama, and could turn a grocery list into a performance.
I chuckled and wiped a smear of honey from her lip with my thumb, then sucked the sticky sweetness off. "You're such a messy eater," I teased, glancing at her amused face, the faintest pink tinting her cheeks.
"Oh shit," she whispered, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks. "That... was hot." She grinned so wide it made me choke slightly on my orange juice. "I didn't know you were this..." She gestured vaguely. "Seductive."
"You're ridiculous," I said, rolling my eyes, though a warmth crept across my cheeks.
"Jason is one lucky guy," she said casually. "Not only do you make the best pancakes, but you're also the sexiest girl to ever walk the earth." She gave me a small smile as she continued to devour her pancakes.
I flopped onto my bed, pulled out a book, and decided to start the assignment that was due in a month.
"Girl, I'm telling you, you and Jason are perfect together. He's sweet, caring... and you're amazing."
I forced a smile, hiding the storm twisting in my stomach. "Thanks, Skye," I murmured, my fingers fidgeting with the pen in my hand.
Her gaze softened. "Hey, what's wrong? You're not stressing about Jason, are you?"
Her eyes searched mine, as if trying to uncover a secret.
I shrugged, feeling my cheeks heat. "It's just... we haven't... you know....." I trailed off, my eyes darting away from hers.
Skye's face morphed into understanding, her features relaxing into a gentle smile.
"Oh, Len, that's normal! Guys go through it sometimes. It's no big deal," she said, waving her hand dismissively, though her eyes lingered on me, searching.
But it felt like a big deal. It felt like a huge, glaring neon sign screaming "YOU'RENOTENOUGH!"
Skye's words should have been comforting, but they only reminded me of the countless times I'd felt inadequate.
I thought back to our attempts at sex, the way Jason's face would screw up in frustration, the way he'd apologize profusely because he couldn't get his dick working.
I knew it wasn't his fault - I had tried with other guys before him, and they ended up going limp, or not getting an erection at all. I felt cursed, like my body was a wasteland that couldn't sustain a man's desire.
Skye's voice cut into my thoughts, her tone gentle, "Hey, Len, I'm here for you, okay? Whatever it is, we can work through it." Her hand reached out, covering mine with a comforting touch.
"Thanks." I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.
Just then, Skye's expression shifted, her eyes clouding with concern. "How's your mum doing?"
The question hit me harder than expected. My mother's hospital room flashed in my mind, sterile, pale walls, machines beeping steadily, the faint antiseptic smell.
Her pale, gaunt face haunted me. The Cancer, the mastectomy, and the years of bitterness she carried all blended into a toxic brew of guilt I couldn't shake.
"She's still the same..." I muttered, voice low.
Skye frowned, her concern gentle. "I'm sorry, Len. Do you want to talk about it?"
I swallowed hard, "It's... complicated," I admitted. "She still blames me, like somehow I caused all of this."
Skye's hand tightened over mine. "Len, that's not true. You're not to blame."
I nodded, but I couldn't forget my mum's glare, the way she blamed my pregnancy for her breast cancer, her tears barely held back as she cursed at me and threw her silverware across the room.
"It's okay, let's change topic." I quickly dismissed.
Just the thought of my mum was bad news. Talking about her would only make me feel guilty for absolutely no reason, especially after all the times she told me, 'I wish you were never born.' At one point, I even started thinking, I wish I was never born.
I pushed her out of my mind. The day was already bad enough, and thinking about her would only make it more dreadful and unbearable.
I spun around on my bed to face Skye and forced a smile. "Are you ready for the party tonight?" I asked. Her fingers paused mid-twist as she fumbled with her hair. I caught a fleeting glimpse of hesitation before she masked it with a bright smile.
"Yeah, I know we planned on dressing as she-devils....but I changed my mind last minute," she said, her voice a tad too casual. "I'm gonna be dressing as Harley Quinn." She whispered the last part out.
A tiny alarm bell rang in my head, but I brushed it off, attributing it to my own paranoia. I chuckled awkwardly, the sound hollow in the air.
"Hm, interesting." My eyes locked onto hers, searching for a hint of what was going on, but Skye's face was a carefully crafted mask.
"Jason's dressing as the Joker, you know?" I stated, trying to sound nonchalant, like it was just a casual tidbit of information.
Skye's eyes widened, "Oh, Len, I didn't know that. I can wear something else," she said, her voice lipped with a tinge of guilt.
I waved my hand dismissively, the gesture a bit too exaggerated. "Girl, do your thing. It's just a costume, no big deal." My shoulders lifted in a careless shrug, but my mind was already racing with possibilities.
Skye's gaze held mine, sharp and searching, as if trying to read my thoughts. "Still dressing as a she-devil?" she asked, her fingers tightening on her skirt for a moment before she moved toward the door.
"Yeah." I simply replied.
She hummed. "I'll be stepping out for a while... we'll meet in the evening before the party," she said, her voice tight, a forced cheerfulness barely hiding the edge beneath it.
I nodded and watched her leave the room, a weight of paranoia pressing down on my chest. I tried to convince myself it was nothing, but I couldn't.
The more I thought about it, the harder I struggled to shake the sense that something was off. Her sudden change of heart had more to do with Jason's costume than she was letting on. I pushed the thought aside, telling myself I was just being paranoid, that it was nothing.
Yeah... that's all it was.
I turned back to my assignment, trying to finish as much as I could before the party tonight, then I felt it. Something shifted in the air.
A presence. A shadow that hadn't been there before. I froze, my pulse pounding, wondering if my mind just hadn't fully woken up yet. The hairs on my arms stood on end, prickling as though the air itself were charged, and something was watching me... waiting.
The room seemed to hold its breath, the silence pressing in on me. I shook my head, unease crawling under my skin, as I realized that my thoughts were starting to sound like those of someone who belonged in a psych ward or an asylum.
I ignored the feeling, forcing a laugh as I tried to shake off the unease and focus on my assignment.
But,
The room felt heavier. Thicker.
My skin prickled.
The silence pressed in, alive.
I looked up.
Nothing.
Still, my heart raced.
My breath hitched.
Then,
The lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
And in the dark reflection of my laptop screen,
Something stood behind me.