I stripped and took my own dip—cold water shocking my skin, washing away the sweat, cum, and musk of three women.
My cock hung heavy between my legs, half-hard even in the chill, remembering every hole it had claimed. When I climbed out, dripping, they were all watching—three pairs of eyes dark with renewed hunger.
We ate lunch after—simple supplies from the jeep: bread, cheese, dried fruit, jerky. We sat in a loose circle on the mats, the cave warmer now with the climbing sun.
Angela leaned against me, dress riding up her thighs; Mira sat cross-legged, wincing every time she shifted; Lisa stayed close to both, thighs pressed together like she was still aching.
I noticed Mira first—her gaze distant, fork paused halfway to her mouth, staring at nothing.
"What's bothering you?" I asked quietly, setting my food down.
She shook her head—quick, almost guilty—then sighed.
"I… I was just thinking about… Nicole and Bill… whether they've eaten anything or not…"
