Chapter 3

I gasped, inhaling the thick scent of masculine hormones that seemed to send a signal straight to my body.

My limbs trembled uncontrollably, as if electric currents were shooting through my thighs.

"Why are the lights on? Is Jasmine home?" Sophia's weak voice drifted from the living room, her footsteps approaching.

Panic flashed across our faces. Derek stepped forward, shutting the door behind him.

"No, she's not. Probably forgot to turn them off."

"Oh? Why are you closing the door?"

"I need to use the bathroom."

Derek fended off Sophia's questioning, then shot me a glance. What was he looking at me for?

Flustered, I stared back in confusion—was he expecting me to pee right now?

He kept signaling with his eyes.

Sophia sounded skeptical outside. "Using the bathroom?"

As her footsteps drew nearer, I finally gave in to shame, covering my face like a child hiding from reality.

The sound of running water filled the bathroom.

Sophia paused at the door. Derek coughed awkwardly. "I'm peeing. Want to come in and check?"

She hesitated, then turned away. "Hurry up and get dressed when you're done. It'd be so awkward if Jasmine came back."

I don’t remember how the rest of that day passed.

Only that after Derek left, I stayed in the bathroom for a long time, gathering myself before sneaking back to my room.

But when I opened the door, Sophia stood there, arms crossed.

"So you were really in there..."

My heart lurched. Before I could explain, she waved me off. "I don’t mind. If I did, I’d have broken up with him the moment he said he was into you. What surprises me is that you stayed quiet."

Biting my lower lip in shame, I followed her gaze to the wet spot on the floor. Understanding flashed in her eyes.

Then she leaned in conspiratorially. "As your bestie, if you can’t hold out these next few days… I’ll lend you Derek?"

Her teasing made me relax instantly. I shoved her away. "Get lost! Since when are men borrowable?!"

Flushing crimson, I pushed past her and fled to my room.

I thought that would be the end of it.

But to my shock, after Sophia joked about "lending" Derek to me, my mind spiraled with fantasies of his body—how he’d driven her wild in the living room, the sheer size I’d glimpsed in the bathroom.

So much bigger than my husband. What would it feel like inside me?

In bed, I clenched my thighs, scalp burning. Closing my eyes, I saw Derek’s silhouette taunting me. Even my breaths carried traces of his lingering musk.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Exhausting myself with advanced ballet poses, I collapsed into sleep—only to dream of Derek bending me into a split position, taking me ruthlessly.

Even after one round, he wasn’t satisfied. Flipping me over, he tore my leotard, yanking my hips down until my rear arched high for his next assault.

I woke at dawn, trembling, soaked through my panties and sheets.

Gulping, I squeezed the blanket between my legs, chasing the phantom pleasure of my dream.

But even fantasizing about my husband left me hollow.

Morning came.

I dragged myself out of bed, drained.

While brushing my teeth, Sophia sidled up, half-complaining, half-boasting:

"Jasmine, Derek’s insane." She pointed to her lips. "See how swollen I am? How am I supposed to explain this at work?"

"But if I don’t let him, he’ll wreck me. It’s exhausting!"

Her faux complaints made me burn with envy. I sucked in a sharp breath, my tongue flicking the toothbrush bristles.

The mint did nothing to cool the fire inside.

If anything, the bristles’ scrape only stoked it.

Over the next few days—whether by Sophia’s design or Derek’s—he visited almost nightly.

Their marathon sessions kept me awake.

At first, it was just noise disrupting my sleep. But after accidentally passing their ajar door post-bathroom, my mind replayed the image of Sophia sprawled on the bed, eyes rolled back, lips trembling like she was high.

Alone in bed, I curled up listening to their symphony.

I considered calling my husband—apologizing, begging to return.

Yet in the two weeks since I left, he’d been living it up—bar-hopping with friends, ignoring my calls. My plans to reconcile kept postponing.

Tonight, Sophia and Derek started again.

But something was different.

Sophia’s moans crescendoed—sweet, sinful, euphoric.

My imagination ran wild. What positions were they trying?

That familiar pretty face, tongue lolling, eyes white.

She couldn’t know half the poses I did.

Clutching the blanket, I arched my hips, fantasizing about a powerful man behind me.

But my fingers were a poor substitute.

I craved the real thing—anyone, as long as they matched Derek’s… endowments.

As if heaven heard my plea, a loud thud came from next door. Bare feet slapped the floor as Sophia scrambled out, bursting into my room.

"Save me! Jasmine, help! He’s killing me!"

Her eyes glazed with lust and fear, she collapsed onto me.

I shrieked, trying to squirm free.

If anyone saw me in this position—

Why hadn’t I locked the door?

Too late. Sophia trembled atop me, her curves pressing through my thin nightgown.

Then I saw him—Derek filling the doorway, that monstrous sway between his legs.

Sophia shuddered in ecstasy. My emptiness peaked.

I stopped resisting.

Parting my thighs, I let her roll aside—and took her place.