I ended the call, tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. Fucking Sarah. Her sarcasm made me want to strangle the steering wheel. But she was right—her time would come. I'd make sure of it.

Another red light. I turned right, glancing at the empty passenger seat where Minne had sat earlier. She'd mentioned a cosplayer friend—Emma. Nala had brought her up too. If I could track Emma down, maybe she'd know more about Minne. Or, long shot, something about Guy.

"Move it, man…" I muttered as the light flipped green. "I've got panties to deliver…"

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I parked the car at the curb, rain still pattering on the windshield. A taxi pulled up behind me. Penelope hopped out, paid the driver, and shook water from her hair.

I climbed out too.

She spotted me, eyes flicking from the car to my face. "Evan." She walked over. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm… uh, here to give Mendy her panties."

"Oh." A grin. "Right. You didn't do anything weird with them, did you?"

"Jesus, Penelope…"

"Just checking." She smirked. "Come on."

We headed to the door. Penelope knocked. Mendy opened it seconds later—ponytail, light makeup, tank top and shorts. She looked… lighter. Brighter. Richard behind bars had worked wonders.

She smiled, stepped aside. "Welcome, you two."

"Hey," I said. "I won't come in. Just dropping—"

"Please," Mendy cut in. "Come in."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

Penelope breezed past, smacking Mendy's ass playfully. "You look better, girlie."

"I am!" Mendy chirped. "God, that idiot's finally locked up!"

I stepped inside, exhaled, and dug into my pocket. Pulled out the crumpled green panties. Mendy snatched them fast, hiding them behind her back.

"I'm… super embarrassed, you have no idea," she muttered.

"Y-yeah," I said. "Sorry for making you uncomfortable."

"I want ice cream," Penelope announced, heading to the kitchen, clothes dripping.

"It's freezing outside," Mendy called, moving to the living room.

"Yep."

"How about you, Evan?" Mendy asked. "Want an ice cream?"

"I, uh… no, I need to wash my hands. I touched your… erm, thing."

"OH! My god, sure, sure. Yes!" She covered her face—panties still in hand—then realized and hid them again.

I chuckled nervously. "Y-yeah."

"Bathroom's that way. Door's open."

"Thanks."

I slipped inside, scrubbed my hands under hot water, stared at my reflection. Splashed my face. Dried with a towel.

"Get it together."

When I came out, Mendy emerged from her room—hands free. Panties stashed.

We settled in the living room. Penelope flicked on the TV, some random sitcom laugh track filling the air.

"So," Penelope said, spooning ice cream straight from the tub. "How's the penthouse life?"

"Big," I said. "Too big. Still getting lost… wait, how did you know I live in a penthouse?"

"I was in the police station with you, remember? You told them your address."

"Oh…"

Mendy laughed. "Penthouse. Wow. Better than a shoebox."

"True," I said. "How's freedom feel?"

"Like breathing," Mendy said, curling her legs under her. "No more looking over my shoulder."

"Yeah… I could never know he was… like that."

"No one could've," Mendy said. "Ugh, let's not talk about him please."

"Deal," Penelope said. "So, Evan, I didn't know you were rich. Penthouse, fancy car. Damn. Thought you worked at a gas station."

"Life… happened. Now I'm here." I smiled.

"Ooh. Mysterious."

Penelope crossed her legs. My eyes drifted—those fake tits, massive, straining her t-shirt like two watermelons. I wanted to bury my face between them. The fabric did nothing to hide the swell.

I snapped my gaze to the TV. Rain hammered the windows, sitcom laughter filling the room.

"You guys hungry?" Mendy asked.

"I just ate," I said.

"Like a wolf," Penelope said. "What do you have?"

"Spaghetti," Mendy said.

"Nice," Penelope clapped.

"Stay for dinner," Mendy said, looking at me.

"Wish I could, but I can't. Promised someone else."

"Ah, okay," she smiled.

"This weather's shit," Penelope said, peering out. "Storm's not letting up."

"Tell me about it," Mendy sighed. "Supposed to clear tomorrow, but who knows."

"Yeah," I nodded. "It sucks."

Mendy's phone rang. She grabbed it. "It's Mom. Sorry, guys, gotta take this."

She slipped into her room.

Penelope exhaled, then caught my eyes on her chest.

"Okay, hero, come here. You can only touch them."

"Huh?"

"I know you've been staring. I'm not blind. Touch them. Call it thanks, for Richard, for being there for Mendy."

"I didn't do it for thanks. I was cleaning my mess."

"Oh, come on, white knight." She lifted her t-shirt slowly, the fabric dragging over the swell of her chest until it bunched under her chin. Her bra was black lace, stretched to its limit, the underwire digging into soft skin. "Touch before Mendy's back."

I gulped, stood, and walked over. She rose too, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off her body. My fingers shook as I hooked them under the lace cups and eased them down. The bra snapped free, and her tits spilled out—heavy, round, impossibly firm. Pink areolas the size of silver dollars, nipples long and stiff, begging for attention.

Hypnotized, I cupped them, palms barely covering half. They were warm, the silicone giving just enough to feel real. I squeezed gently, thumbs brushing the peaks. She let out a soft moan, arching into my hands.

Then I buried my face between them, nose pressed into the deep valley, inhaling vanilla and skin. My tongue darted out, licking a slow stripe up one slope. She shuddered, fingers threading my hair, pulling me closer.

"Oh," Penelope laughed, breathy. "Didn't expect that."

"Sorry—" I pulled back, arms dropping, face burning. "I… don't know what happened."

She didn't cover up. Just stood there, tits still out, nipples glistening from my mouth. "Liked them, huh?" she purred, voice low and smoky. "Couldn't help yourself, could you? Poor baby—got all hypnotized by these big, fake tits. Bet you've been dreaming about burying your face in them since the first time you saw me."

I swallowed hard, cock throbbing painfully against my jeans. "Penelope—"

"Shh." She stepped closer, perfume flooding my head. "Don't apologize. I felt how hard you got. That little twitch when your face was right here—" She cupped her breasts, lifted them, squeezed. "—between these. You were practically drooling."

She leaned down, lips near my ear, one hand sliding to the back of my neck, nails scraping lightly. "Bet you're imagining it right now. My tits in your mouth. Sucking on these fat nipples till I'm moaning your name. Or maybe you want me to wrap them around your cock? Slide up and down, nice and slow, till you're begging to cum all over them."

"Fuck," I breathed, hands clenching the couch.

She chuckled, dark and filthy. "Yeah. Fuck. That's what you want, isn't it? To grab these tits and just lose it." She gave them a little bounce, the motion making them jiggle. "Go ahead. Look. Touch again. I don't mind. Hell, I like it. Knowing I've got you this worked up… this hard… just from a little tease."

I groaned, head falling back. "You're evil."

"Evil?" She straddled the arm of the couch, thighs thick and warm beside me, tits still bare. "Nah. Just honest. And you, hero—" She reached down, brushed a finger along the ridge in my jeans, light as a whisper. "—are aching."

I hissed, hips jerking.

She pulled back just as fast, smirking. "Sorry, hero. You're not my type. So you just sit there… with that big, hard cock… and think about what you're missing."

She finally sat, fixed her bra and t-shirt, crossed her legs, and picked up her ice cream like nothing happened.

I was wrecked.

"Get that under control," she whispered. "Or she'll notice."

I crossed my legs after sitting. "Whose fault, I wonder."

Penelope chuckled. "You're cute."

I cleared my throat, no clue how to act.

Mendy returned, sat.

"Why'd your mom call?" Penelope asked.

"Ordered pizza for me, apparently. Just letting me know."

Penelope nodded. My cock softened—mostly.

"I gotta go," I said, standing. "Thanks for everything, Mendy… and Penelope."

Penelope stuck her tongue out, smacked her own tits—quick, hidden from Mendy.

We walked to the door. And Mendy just… hugged me tight out ow nowhere. She felt it—my half-hard cock. Pulled back fast, face red.

"I owe you dinner," she mumbled.

"Sure," I said, rubbing my neck.

"Bye," they said.

Then Mendy closed the door.

Holy shit. Just… man. Fuuck.

I walked back to the car, rain still misting down, keys cold in my hand. Unlocked it, slid inside, and shut the door with a soft thunk. The interior smelled like leather and wet pavement.

I leaned back, eyes closing on their own.

Penelope's tits flashed behind my lids—huge, glossy, bouncing slightly with every breath. I pictured my cock sliding between them, warm silicone hugging me tight, her hands pressing them together, nipples grazing my shaft as I thrust. Her voice in my ear: 'Cum for me, hero. Paint these fake tits white.'

My dick twitched, already half-hard again.

I snapped my eyes open, shook my head hard. "Nope. Not now."

Turned the key. The engine purred to life.

"I… wow," I muttered, easing onto the gas. "Fucking wow…"

The phone rang through the car's speakers, cutting through the sound of rain beating on the windshield. I checked the dashboard… Cora.

I tapped the answer button.

"Hello?" I said. "Cora?"

"H-h-hey," she mumbled immediately, voice small and shaky like always. "L-l-let's meet at my place. I… I prepared dinner, hehe. Y-you'll like it."

I blinked. "Alright. Is everything good?"

"Yup." Her breath hit the mic like she was nodding too hard. "I'll send my location. Be here in th-thirty, is th-that okay?"

"Sure," I said. "Be there in thirty."

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