Chapter 37: The Sisters Push Mai In
The shower had become a sauna of steam and skin, the glass fogged and streaked with condensation that ran in rivulets down the tile. Rick had Rachel pinned against the back wall, her legs wrapped around his waist, his cock buried deep inside her with a rhythm that made the water sluice off their bodies in sheets. Rachel's head was thrown back, her mouth open in a silent scream, her fingers clawing at his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.
Felicity stood in the doorway, naked and dripping, and felt something hot and unfamiliar curl through her belly.
She'd been sent here by Mai—Dr. Harata, apparently—to check on the patients. But standing here now, watching Rick's ass flex with every thrust, watching the way Rachel's tits bounced against his chest, watching the steam rise off their joined bodies like they were something sacred and profane all at once, Felicity didn't feel like a nurse.
She felt like a woman who wanted to get fucked.
Rick's cock was impressive. She'd seen it before—that night at Mike and Casey's house, the night that had rearranged something fundamental in her brain—but seeing it now, slick and red and disappearing into Rachel's cunt over and over, made her mouth water. Rachel's thighs were trembling, her breath coming in sharp little gasps that echoed off the tile.
"Fuck," Rachel whimpered. "Fuck, Rick, don't stop—"
Felicity laughed, the sound surprising her. She stepped fully into the shower, letting the hot water soak her hair, and decided to lean into the absurdity of it all.
"Nurse Winkle here," she announced, pitching her voice into something clinical and officious. "I've been asked to conduct a follow-up examination. Dr. Harata's orders."
Rick's rhythm faltered. He turned his head, eyes wide, water streaming down his face. "Flick?"
"Don't stop on my account," she said, waving a hand. "This is a medical procedure. Very serious. We're treating a rare condition called... acute vaginal emptiness. Highly contagious. Fatal if left untreated."
Rachel let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-moan. "What?"
"It's true," Felicity said, stepping closer. Her heart was hammering, but she kept her voice steady, playful, the way she'd learned to be with Mandy and the others. "Symptoms include chronic horniness, excessive wetness, and an overwhelming need to be filled. I'm afraid you're both showing classic signs."
She reached out and ran her fingers through Rachel's soaked hair, then let her hand trail down to where Rick was still buried inside her. She could feel the stretch of Rachel's flesh, the heat of Rick's shaft, the slick slide of fluids mixing with the shower water.
"The treatment protocol," Felicity continued, "requires oral stimulation of the external genitalia, followed by... let's call it deep tissue massage."
Rick made a strangled noise. "Flick, what are you—"
"Shh." She pressed two fingers to his lips. "Doctors are talking."
She dropped to her knees.
The tile was warm beneath her, magically heated, and the water beat down on her shoulders as she positioned herself between Rick's legs and Rachel's. She could smell them—musk and salt and something electric—and she leaned in, dragging her tongue along the length of Rick's cock where it disappeared into Rachel's cunt.
Rachel screamed, her thighs clamping around Rick's hips.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—"
Felicity worked her tongue in slow, broad strokes, tasting both of them, lapping at Rachel's swollen clit and then dragging back up to Rick's shaft. She used her hands, too, one cupping Rick's balls, the other sliding up to press against Rachel's belly, feeling the way her muscles clenched with every stroke.
"This is the initial phase of treatment," Felicity narrated, her voice muffled against their skin. "Stimulation of the erogenous zones to promote blood flow. Very scientific."
Rick's hand came down on her head, not pushing, just resting there, his fingers tangling in her wet hair. "You're insane," he gasped. "You're all fucking insane."
"Says the man who's been fucking his sister's best friend in the shower for the past hour," Felicity shot back, then licked him again, long and slow, from base to tip.
Rachel came.
Her body convulsed, her inner walls clenching around Rick's cock, and she let out a wail that echoed off the walls. Felicity watched her face contort, watched the pleasure crash over her like a wave, and felt a surge of satisfaction that was almost predatory.
"Excellent progress," Felicity said, wiping her mouth. "The patient is responding well."
But Rick wasn't done. He pulled out of Rachel—she whimpered at the loss—and turned to Felicity, his eyes dark and wild. "You want to be a doctor? Fine. Let's see how you handle a house call."
He hauled her up by the arms, spinning her around so her back was against the tile. She gasped as the cold ceramic hit her spine, but then Rick's mouth was on hers, hungry and demanding, and she forgot to care.
He tasted like Rachel and sweat and the faint sweetness of whatever he'd had for breakfast. His hands were everywhere—her tits, her ass, her thighs—and then his fingers were between her legs, sliding through her slick folds, and she was moaning into his mouth like she'd been waiting for this her whole life.
"Since you're so concerned about vaginal emptiness," Rick murmured against her lips, "let's make sure you're not suffering."
He didn't wait for a response. He just lifted her, one hand under each thigh, and pushed inside her in one slow, devastating stroke.
Felicity's head hit the tile. Her eyes rolled back.
He was thick. Thicker than she remembered, or maybe she'd just forgotten, or maybe the angle was different, or maybe—fuck, it didn't matter, because he was filling her completely, stretching her in ways that made her feel like she was being remade from the inside out.
"Jesus fucking Christ," she gasped.
"Shh," Rick said, echoing her earlier words. "Doctors are talking."
He fucked her against the wall with the same relentless rhythm he'd used on Rachel, and Felicity couldn't look away from his face—the concentration, the way his jaw clenched, the water dripping off his dark hair and onto her chest. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulled him deeper, and felt the orgasm building low in her belly like a threat.
Rachel was watching them, her fingers working between her own legs, her eyes glassy with renewed hunger. "Fuck her harder," she said. "Make her come. She needs it."
The clinical detachment was gone now. Felicity was just a body, just a mass of nerve endings and heat, and Rick was pounding into her with a ferocity that bordered on brutal. The tile was slick with steam, his grip on her thighs almost painful, and she was close, so close, her cunt clenching around him like a fist.
"I'm going to come," she choked out. "Rick, I'm going to—"
"Do it," he growled. "Come all over my cock."
And she did.
The orgasm hit her like a freight train, slamming through her body and leaving her shaking in its wake. She screamed—actually screamed—and Rick kept fucking her through it, drawing it out until she was nothing but a trembling mess in his arms.
Then Beth's voice cut through the steam.
"SHE LEFT ME HANGING!"
Felicity's post-orgasmic haze shattered. She turned her head, still impaled on Rick's cock, and saw Beth sprawled on the couch through the open bathroom door, naked and flushed, her fingers moving frantically between her legs.
Mandy was leaning against the kitchen counter, wearing nothing but Ben's oversized university t-shirt, a glass of water in her hand and a smirk on her face.
"She left me hanging," Beth repeated, her voice plaintive.
Mandy set down the glass. "Then let's go get her."
They crossed the room together, bare feet slapping on the hardwood, and Felicity had just enough time to register what was happening before Mandy and Beth appeared in the bathroom doorway.
Mai was still there, leaning against the frame, fully dressed, narrating the scene like a nature documentary. "And here we observe the female of the species in her natural habitat, engaging in elaborate mating rituals that serve no evolutionary purpose but are nonetheless—"
Mandy grabbed Mai's left arm. Beth grabbed her right.
"Wait," Mai said. "What are you—"
They hauled her through the door and shoved her into the shower, clothes and all.
Mai shrieked with laughter as the water soaked through her jeans and crop top, plastering the fabric to her skin. Rick and Rachel turned, startled, still tangled together. Felicity laughed so hard she had to brace herself against the tile.
Beth climbed in after Mai, naked and grinning, and pulled her into a kiss while the water soaked them both. Mai's protest died in her throat, replaced by a moan as Beth's hands found her tits through the wet cotton.
Mandy stood in the doorway, watching her sister and her friends and her brother. "Nurse Winkle," she said, "I think the patient needs a second opinion."
Felicity grinned and reached for Mai's soaked shirt.
"No second opinions," she said, tugging the fabric over Mai's head. "Just a consult."
Mai's tits spilled free, water streaming down her chest, her nipples hard and dark against her pale skin. She looked like a wet dream, like something out of a fever, and Felicity felt the heat reignite in her belly.
"Dr. Harata," Felicity said, "I'm afraid you're now the patient."
Mai's eyes sparkled with challenge. "Oh, am I?"
"Acute exposure to excessive clothing in a aquatic environment," Felicity said, unfastening Mai's jeans and peeling them down her legs. "Very serious condition. Requires immediate intervention."
She pushed Mai back against the shower wall, the water cascading over both of them, and kissed her.
Mai tasted like chlorine and salt and something bright and wild. Her hands came up to grip Felicity's hips, pulling her close, and Felicity could feel the heat of her cunt through the soaked cotton of her panties—the only scrap of clothing left on her body.
Rick was still inside Rachel, but he'd stopped moving, watching the scene unfold with a dazed expression. Rachel's fingers were still working her clit, her eyes fixed on Mai and Felicity with greedy fascination.
"Room for one more?" Beth asked, sliding up behind Felicity and pressing her tits against Felicity's back.
Felicity moaned. "Always."
Mandy was still in the doorway, but she was smiling now, that knowing smirk that drove Felicity crazy.
"You coming in?" Felicity asked.
Mandy shook her head. "Someone has to document this for science."
She pulled her phone from the pocket of Ben's shirt and held it up. "Say cheese."
Mai laughed, her head falling back against the tile. "You're not posting that."
"Depends on how good it looks."
Felicity turned back to Mai, her fingers finding the waistband of her panties and tugging them down. Mai stepped out of them, now completely naked, and Felicity pressed her thigh between Mai's legs, feeling the slick heat of her cunt against her skin.
"You're soaked," Felicity murmured.
"Wonder why," Mai shot back.
Beth's hands found Felicity's tits from behind, cupping and squeezing, her thumbs circling Felicity's nipples until they ached. Rachel had moved closer, her fingers abandoning her own clit to reach for Mai's, and Rick was still hard, still buried in Rachel, watching everything with hungry eyes.
The shower was a tangle of limbs and water and heat, and Felicity felt like she was drowning in the best possible way.
Mai came first, her body arching off the wall, a string of curses falling from her lips in that crisp English accent. Felicity followed a moment later, triggered by the feel of Beth's fingers sliding into her from behind, and then Beth was coming too, her cry muffled against Felicity's shoulder.
Rachel and Rick finished together, Rachel's legs giving out as Rick emptied himself inside her with a guttural groan.
For a long moment, no one moved. Just the sound of the shower, the steam rising, the five of them breathing in ragged unison.
Then Mandy's voice cut through the silence.
"So," she said, still holding up her phone, "lunch?"
Mai laughed, wet and breathless. "I hate you."
"No, you don't."
Felicity turned to look at Mandy, water dripping from her hair, and felt something warm and complicated settle in her chest. This was her life now. This absurd, beautiful, filthy life she'd stumbled into.
"Lunch," she agreed. "But someone needs to order pancakes. I'm not cooking."
Beth snorted. "You never cook."
"I'm a nurse, not a chef."
"You're not a nurse either."
"I'm whatever the situation requires."
Rick was already reaching for a towel, his face flushed, his hair standing up in wet spikes. "I could make pancakes," he offered.
Everyone stared at him.
"What?" he said. "I own a bakery."
Rachel laughed, the sound bright and surprised. "Of course you do."
Mai was still pressed against the tile, her eyes half-closed, a lazy smile on her face. "I want pancakes with whipped cream and strawberries," she announced. "And bacon. Lots of bacon."
"Demanding," Mandy observed.
"What kind of patient would I be if I didn't have demands?"
Felicity turned off the water, and the sudden silence felt vast. She grabbed a towel, wrapped it around herself, and looked at the group of them—her friends, her lover, her best friend's brother, the woman they'd pulled out of a mystical void—and felt a surge of something that might have been joy.
"Alright," she said. "Pancakes. But first, someone needs to explain to me why Dr. Harata's medical license should ever be renewed."
Mai grinned. "Because my methods work."
"That's not how medicine works."
"It's how my medicine works."
Rachel was already climbing out of the shower, her legs still unsteady, reaching for a towel. "I don't care how it works," she said. "I just want more of it."
Rick caught her eye, and something passed between them—soft and tentative, like the first threads of something new.
Felicity saw it. Mandy saw it. Even Beth saw it, her sharp photographer's eye missing nothing.
But no one said anything. Not yet.
"Pancakes," Mandy said firmly. "Then we talk."
She turned and walked out of the bathroom, still wearing Ben's shirt, still holding her phone, and the rest of them followed, dripping and laughing and alive.
The kitchen smelled like butter and batter before Rick even finished mixing.
He stood at the counter with his back to the room, naked as the day he was born, his shoulders flexing as he whisked flour and eggs and milk into a smooth, pale ribbon. Water still clung to his skin in places, catching the morning light that slanted through the window over the sink. His ass was a study in contrasts—pale where his swim trunks usually sat, darker where the Miami sun had kissed him—and Felicity found herself staring at the way his muscles moved beneath his skin.
Mai had draped herself across the couch like a cat in a sunbeam, still dripping, completely nude, her wet hair fanned out over the cushion. She watched Rick with open appreciation, her tongue running over her bottom lip. "I could get used to this view," she said.
"You could get used to anything," Mandy replied, settling into the armchair with her glass of water.
"True. But this is a particularly good anything."
Rachel sat on the floor with her back against the couch, wrapped in a towel that barely covered anything, her knees drawn up to her chest. She hadn't stopped looking at Rick since they'd left the bathroom. Her eyes tracked his every movement—the way he cracked eggs one-handed, the way he poured batter into the hot pan, the way he flipped the pancakes with a flick of his wrist that made his whole body shift.
Beth was on the other end of the couch, also naked, also watching. Her camera sat on the coffee table, forgotten for once, her photographer's eye replaced by something simpler and hungrier.
Mandy noticed. Of course she noticed.
She noticed the way Beth's gaze lingered on Rick's back, on his thighs, on the curve of his spine. She noticed the way Rachel's breath hitched when Rick bent over to grab a spatula from the drawer. She noticed the way Felicity had shifted on the floor, her thighs pressed together, her fingers drumming against her knee.
Mandy looked at her brother. She could see what they saw—the easy confidence in his body, the way he moved like he was comfortable in his own skin, the dick that hung soft and thick between his legs, promising. He was attractive. She'd always known that, in the abstract way you know your sibling is objectively good-looking.
But watching her friends watch him, watching her sister watch him, watching Rachel—who had been trapped in a void for a year and was now experiencing everything with the intensity of someone who'd been starved—Mandy felt something twist in her chest.
Not jealousy. Not exactly.
Responsibility.
She sighed and set down her water glass.
"Alright," she said, standing up. "Time for the hard part."
She crossed the room, aware of the way Ben's shirt rode up her thighs, aware of the five pairs of eyes that tracked her movement. She stopped in front of Rachel, who looked up at her with those big, glassy eyes, still raw and open from everything that had happened.
"Hey," Mandy said softly. "Can we talk?"
Rachel blinked. "About what?"
"About Rick."
Rachel's expression flickered—something hopeful and fragile that made Mandy's chest ache. She crouched down, bringing herself to Rachel's level, and kept her voice gentle.
"He's spoken for," Mandy said. "Happily. Ridiculously. The kind of spoken for that makes other people feel inadequate."
Rachel's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"His girlfriend. Stacy. She's..." Mandy paused, trying to find the right words. "It's a long story. Time travel. She went to the future when she was eighteen, met him there when he was nineteen. Then he went to the past. Now they're together, in the present, and everyone who knows them just... knows. It's a beautiful story. The kind of story you can't compete with."
Rachel was quiet for a long moment. Then she laughed—a sharp, incredulous sound that seemed to surprise even her.
"What the fuck just happened in the shower then?" she asked. "If he's so happily spoken for, why did he—why did we—"
Beth leaned forward from the couch. "It's simple," she said. "Our parents taught us to share."
Rachel stared at her.
"Sharing," Rachel repeated.
"Sharing," Beth confirmed. "Toys, food, secrets. Bodies, sometimes. It's not a big deal in this family. Rick loves Stacy. Stacy knows Rick. They have an arrangement. It works for them."
Rachel considered this. Her fingers picked at the edge of her towel, her expression shifting from confusion to something more contemplative.
"So he's not... available," she said slowly.
"For a relationship?" Mandy shook her head. "No. But for—" She gestured vaguely at the bathroom. "That? That's different. That's just... fun. Release. A way to connect without expectation."
Rachel was quiet again. Then she laughed, softer this time, and something in her face relaxed.
"I was enjoying the fucking," she said. "I don't need a relationship right now. I don't even have my own address. I'm literally homeless. I've been... gone... for a year. The last thing I need is to fall for someone."
Mandy felt the tension in her shoulders ease. "Good. Because he's taken. And Stacy's terrifying in the best way."
"I heard that," Rick called from the kitchen.
"You were meant to."
Rachel shook her head, still laughing, and Mandy stood up, offering her a hand. Rachel took it, pulling herself to her feet, her towel slipping dangerously low.
"So what now?" Rachel asked.
"Now," Mandy said, "we eat pancakes. And then we figure out what to do with you."
Rachel nodded slowly. "Okay. That sounds... okay."
Rick was pouring batter into the pan, the sizzle filling the kitchen with a sound that was almost domestic. He glanced over his shoulder at his audience—Mai sprawled and nude on the couch, Felicity cross-legged on the floor with her tits out and her hair a wet tangle, Rachel standing in a towel that barely covered her ass, Beth leaning back with her legs spread and her cunt still glistening from the shower—and felt his cock twitch.
It grew. Slowly, inexorably, rising from soft to semi-hard to fully erect, until it stood out from his body like a flag.
Mai noticed first. Of course she did. "Well, well," she said, her voice a purr. "Looks like someone's not done yet."
Rick turned back to the stove, his face heating. "I'm making pancakes."
"You're making something," Felicity observed.
Beth snorted. "Rick puts the 'big' in 'big brother.'"
"That's disgusting," Mandy said.
"Accurate, though."
Rick flipped a pancake with more force than necessary. "I hate all of you."
"No, you don't," Mai said, rising from the couch with the fluid grace of someone who knew exactly what she was doing. She crossed the room, her hips swaying, and pressed herself against Rick's back, her tits flattening against his shoulder blades, her hand sliding around to grip his cock.
He sucked in a breath.
"Pancakes can wait," she murmured against his ear. "I'm still hungry."
Rachel watched from across the room, the towel forgotten on the floor, her body already responding to the sight of Mai's hand working Rick's shaft. Felicity had her fingers between her legs again. Beth was grinning like she'd won something.
Mandy sighed and reached for her water glass.
"Fifteen minutes," she said. "Then we eat. And then we talk. For real."
No one was listening.
Mai had already dropped to her knees.