I stared up at the fairy lights strung across Luna's bedroom ceiling, the soft golden glow painting everything in dream haze, and I laughed—deep, uncontrollable, chest-shaking laughter that vibrated through every naked body pressed against mine.
The women stirred.
Emma mumbled something incoherent her bare thigh sliding higher along mine, cunt warm and slightly slick from earlier skin-on-skin contact.
Celeste's grip on my hand tightened, her heavy breasts flattening harder against my ribs, nipples stiff from the sudden movement.
Gabrielle shifted at my feet, one hand instinctively sliding up my calf to rest protectively over my balls again, as if grounding me.
Luna lifted her head, dark hair spilling over my chest, her own full tits dragging softly across my skin. "Peter?" Her voice was thick with sleep and concern, medical instincts kicking in even half-conscious. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, baby," I managed between laughs, wiping at my eyes. "Just… stuff."
