Sex-Train Overload

Enzo lugs the last of the five identical boxes through the doorway of the suburban house, arms burning, shirt sticking to his back. Five women circle him in the living room like they’re deciding whether to pounce or pet. They call him sweet, tell him he’s working hard, and their eyes stay locked on his mouth. When the tape rips open on the first box, a black strap-on tumbles out onto the carpet. Four more identical cocks follow. The air snaps tight. One of them—Liv, already tugging her robe open—says they’re going to fuck each other and want him in the middle. Enzo’s pulse hammers at the base of his throat. He nods before his brain even finishes the sentence.