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Six months after that first time with Alesha and my stepfather, barely a day went by when I hadn’t had sex with at least one of them, and often both.

The routine had become the centre of my life. Mornings might start with Alesha slipping across the corridor in nothing but a silk robe, climbing into my bed and waking me with her tongue between my legs. Evenings often ended with my stepfather’s key in the lock, his cock already hard, and Alesha either joining us or listening from her flat and texting filthy commentary while he used me. We had settled into something that felt almost domestic in its filth: shared meals, shared showers, shared orgasms, the thin walls no longer a secret but a feature.

Then Alesha told me she was leaving.

We were in her bed on a Sunday afternoon, still sticky from an hour of slow, deliberate fucking with the thick purple dildo she kept for the times when she wanted to really stretch me properly. She was tracing lazy circles around my nipple with one fingertip when she said it.

“I’ve taken a new job. Chamber of defending barristers at Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Proper money this time. Enough to get a better place.”

I felt the words hit me like a cold splash. “You’re moving out?”

“Not far. Holborn side. You’ll still be able to visit. I’ll still come here. But… yeah. The flat opposite won’t be mine anymore.”

I sat up, the sheet sliding down my bare back. The thought of not being able to knock on her door at two in the morning and find her already wet for me hurt more than I expected. “When?”

“Three weeks. I’ve already given notice.”

We didn’t talk much after that. Instead I pushed her onto her back, straddled her face and rode her tongue until I came hard enough that my thighs shook, then turned around and buried my face between her legs until she flooded my mouth. It felt like trying to store her up, to take enough of her taste and sound and heat to last through the distance.

The next three weeks were a blur of extra-long sessions. My stepfather came over almost every night. Sometimes the three of us barely left the bed. Toys came out more often, the rabbit vibrator that made me squirt, the smaller plug Alesha liked to leave in me while she sucked my clit, the thick realistic cock we took turns riding while the other watched and stroked. Conversation swung between ordinary things (her new chambers, my latest spreadsheet at the firm, whether the Chinese takeaway had too much chilli) and the filthiest possible dirty talk.

“I’m going to miss walking across that corridor and finding you already naked,” she murmured one night while she had three fingers in my cunt and her thumb in my arse. “Miss the way you beg when I edge you. Miss watching your stepdad stretch this greedy little hole while I sit on your face.”

“Then don’t go,” I whispered, pushing back onto her hand. “Stay and keep ruining me.”

She only kissed me harder.

The weekend before she moved, we had one last full night with my stepfather. He fucked my arse while Alesha sat on my face and made me eat her until she’d cum twice. Afterwards the three of us lay in a sweaty tangle and she said quietly, “You’ll find someone new in the building. You know you will. Just don’t forget who taught you how to take it properly.”

I didn’t answer. I just pulled her closer and held on.

Moving day itself was strangely quiet. I helped carry boxes down to the van, kissed her in the empty flat one last time, and watched the van pull away. The corridor felt too wide. That night I texted my stepfather and he came over and fucked me hard and silent against the

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