Still buried to the hilt inside her tight, pulsing heat, Liora stared straight into my eyes and asked in a soft but deadly serious voice:
"Do you know why I'm having sex with you right now?"
Her soaked pussy clenched hard around my throbbing cock as she waited, her heavy breasts rising and falling against my chest, nipples hard through the thin fabric.
"If you give the right answer," she continued, voice low and trembling with raw emotion, "I might even become your woman. Completely. Yours. But if you get it wrong… you have to forget about me forever."
Pleasure and panic slammed together in my skull. Every ripple of her inner walls made thinking impossible. My past-life brain—starved of women for years—short-circuited. I swallowed hard and blurted out the only thing my lust-drunk mind could grab:
"B-because… I have a big cock?"
The second the words left my mouth, disappointment crashed across Liora's beautiful face like ice water.
Her emerald eyes dimmed. The fire in them died.
She let out a quiet, heartbroken sigh that twisted something deep in my chest.
Then, without another word, she slowly lifted her hips.
My glistening cock slid out of her with a wet, obscene schlick, inch after thick inch dragging against her fluttering walls. Thick strands of her juices stretched between us before snapping, leaving my shaft shiny, twitching, and painfully empty in the cool morning air.
She stood up on shaky legs, calmly shook her skirt back into place, picked up her basket, and walked away into the forest without once looking back.
I just sat there against the tree trunk—pants still around my ankles, cock rock-hard and dripping with her nectar—heart hammering, mind spinning.
Completely clueless about what I'd just lost… or what the right answer was supposed to be.
---
I watched Liora disappear between the trees, her wide hips swaying with every step, the back of her skirt still carrying that faint dark patch from earlier. My mind was still reeling. My cock was still rock-hard, glistening with her juices, and aching like it had been betrayed by the universe itself.
Then a loud, obnoxiously familiar voice shattered the silence.
"Yo! Elaric!"
My best friend—Thorne Blackwood, same age as me and fellow orphan—came strolling down the path like he owned the forest. The idiot had the survival instincts of a drunk squirrel.
The moment he spotted Liora's retreating figure, his face split into a lecherous grin. He cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed at the top of his lungs:
"Damn, girl! You got some FAT ass!"
Liora stopped dead.
For one heartbeat the forest went silent.
SMACK!
Her hand cracked across his cheek so hard the sound echoed like a whip. Thorne spun a full 360 and face-planted straight into the dirt.
She didn't even glance back. Just kept walking like nothing happened.
A few minutes later, Thorne crawled to his feet, cursing and rubbing the bright red handprint on his face. Then he finally noticed me.
I was still sitting against the tree trunk—pants around my ankles, cock hanging out in the open air, shiny and painfully hard.
Thorne's eyes bulged.
"BROTHER!!!" he screamed, sprinting over and grabbing my shoulders with both hands. Real tears exploded from his eyes as he wailed like a dying animal. "Nooooo! I knew it! That evil widow raped you, didn't she?! My poor innocent brother! What am I supposed to do now?! Who's gonna marry you tomorrow?! We had plans!!"
Thick rivers of snot and tears streamed down his face. He was actually sobbing.
I stared at him for three full seconds.
Then I sighed, pulled my arm back, and delivered a perfect slap across his other cheek.
SMACK!
Thorne crashed face-first into the grass again, now sporting two matching red handprints. He looked up at me with big, watery, betrayed puppy eyes.
I stood up, calmly pulled my pants back on, and muttered, "Shut up and help me with the herbs."
Thorne immediately started nodding like a broken chicken, still sniffling. "Y-Yes, boss…"
---
Thorne wouldn't shut up the entire way back.
He poked my arm every ten seconds, sighed like a betrayed wife, and kept shooting me these dramatic side-eyes that screamed "you stole my future." It was like walking next to a cheap gold-digger who just found out her sugar daddy bought a new yacht for the maid.
I finally cracked and told him everything. The clearing. Liora. The way she sank down on me. The question. The brutal pull-out. The walk-away.
By the time I finished, Thorne's face crumpled like wet paper.
"You told me when we were kids that brothers share everything!" he wailed, fresh tears exploding down his cheeks. "Hoes before bros! HOES BEFORE BROS!!"
He dropped to his knees right there on the forest path and threw a full-blown tantrum—fists pounding the dirt, legs kicking, snot bubbles popping like fireworks. I had to physically drag him the last fifty meters while he sobbed like an abandoned bride.
Somehow, between his dramatic breakdowns and my constant "get up, you idiot," we still finished gathering every single herb on our list.
I finally couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed him by the shoulders, looked him dead in the eyes, and said:
"Alright, bro. Next time we fuck a girl, we share her. Happy?"
His crying stopped mid-sob.
He sniffled once, wiped his runny nose on his sleeve, and flashed me the biggest, dumbest, brightest grin I'd ever seen.
"Deal!" he cheered, instantly reborn. The matter was dropped like it had never existed.
We picked up our baskets and kept walking side-by-side toward the village pharmacy. Thorne was still hiccuping from all the tears, but now he was humming a cheerful little tune like the last ten minutes had been a fever dream.
In my past life I died from overwork.
In this one, I was apparently going to die from embarrassment.
---
We pushed open the door to the village pharmacy and stepped inside. The front room was completely empty — no customers, no one behind the counter.
"Let's wait," I muttered.
Thorne nodded and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, already looking bored out of his skull.
Thirty seconds later the idiot couldn't take it anymore. He crept over and quietly cracked open the door to the back storeroom.
The sight that slammed into us made both our brains blue-screen.
There, pressed against the shelves, Liora Thoren and the gorgeous red-haired MILF pharmacist were devouring each other like starving animals. Their mouths were locked in a sloppy, tongue-filled kiss — wet smacks and soft, needy moans echoing through the room. Liora's fingers were buried knuckle-deep inside the pharmacist's dripping pussy, thrusting in and out with wet, filthy squelches, while the pharmacist's hand was shoved between Liora's thighs doing the exact same thing.
Two curvy, beautiful MILFs finger-fucking each other right in front of us.
The lewd sounds filled the tiny space — slick, rhythmic, obscene.
The second they noticed us standing there like statues, Liora yanked back from the kiss with a gasp. Her cheeks were flushed crimson, lips shiny with spit. In the most awkward, embarrassed voice I'd ever heard from her, she mumbled:
"She… gave me the right answer."
My mind short-circuited harder than when I died at my desk in my past life.
Thorne and I just nodded dumbly, eyes glued to the glistening fingers still halfway inside each other, cocks already half-hard and twitching in our pants.
The pharmacist eventually pulled her slick fingers free with a wet schlick, stood up on shaky legs, and — still breathing hard and flushed — turned into full professional mode. She took our herb baskets, counted them in five seconds flat, and dropped one copper coin into each of our palms.
Then, without a word, she walked over and started shutting down the pharmacy — locking the front door, closing the shutters, killing the lanterns.
Thorne and I remained frozen like two brain-dead puppies.
Thorne finally found his voice, eyes sparkling with pure hope.
"Hey… at least let us watch!"