That night, after the awkward dinner had wound down—with Stiles still buzzing from her public orgasm, her naked body hastily covered by a thrown blanket—Eli cleared his throat, glancing at his father across the living room. The air was thick with unspoken tension, though Eli seemed blissfully unaware, chalking up Stiles’s “episode” to the mysterious fertility treatments. “Dad, it’s getting late. Why don’t you stay over? We have the guest room ready—save you the drive.”

Derek leaned back on the couch, his muscular frame relaxed, but his dark eyes flicked to Stiles with a hidden smirk. “Of course, son. I’d love to. Family sticks together, right?” His voice was smooth, laced with double meaning that only Stiles caught, making her plugged pussy clench under the blanket. She nodded weakly, her porcelain skin still flushed from earlier, her massive tits barely concealed.