They offered him the cup of cool water and the small flask of rice wine next. Maya held the cup steady while Sophie brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, both watching with soft, adoring eyes as Stan tipped his head back and drank.
The water slid down his throat in long, grateful gulps; the wine followed, warm and lightly sweet. He finished every drop under their attentive gazes, and the simple act of being cared for like this only deepened the heat already coiling low in his gut.
When the last swallow was gone, the girls rose together. They carried the tray to the far corner of the room and set it carefully on the floor, out of the way.
Then they returned to him, dropping to their knees between his spread thighs with graceful, practiced ease.
Sophie's fingers found his belt first. Maya helped. Leather whispered free of the buckle; the button and zipper followed. Together they tugged his pants and underwear down just far enough to free him.
