Chapter 235: Shameless Milfs

I introduced Emily and Jennifer, and almost immediately, Emily and Kate fell into an easy, animated conversation, their laughter blending with the hum of the crowd. Jennifer joined in, her social grace effortless, but I caught the way her eyes flicked between me and Kate, a hint of something dark and hungry in her gaze.

Tom leaned in, his voice low. "Mike, let’s go get the drinks," he said, nodding toward the counter where beer and cocktails were being served. "I could use a break from the small talk—and I think you could too."

I glanced back at Emily and Jennifer. Emily was already deep in conversation with Kate, her face animated, her hands gesturing as she talked.

Jennifer, however, caught my eye, her gaze lingering on me for a second too long, her lips parted just slightly. "I’ll be right back," I told them, my voice rough. "Going to grab us some drinks."

Jennifer’s response was a slow, deliberate nod, her eyes dropping to my lips before she turned back to the conversation.

Tom and I made our way to the drink counter, the hum of the crowd enveloping us as we moved through the sea of bodies.

I glanced back over my shoulder, and there she was: Kate. Her gaze was locked onto me, dark and hungry, her tongue tracing her lower lip in a way that made my cock twitch in my pants.

But before I could fully appreciate the view, a sharp, amplified voice cut through the noise. "Welcome, everyone!" Some guy—middle-aged, dressed in a suit that looked a size too small—stood on the makeshift stage, mic in hand, his voice booming across the tent. The crowd gradually quieted, all eyes turning toward him.

"I know everyone is probably confused," he continued, his tone a mix of reassurance and authority.

"Some of you might even miss your old homes. But this—" he gestured broadly around the tent, "—this is our new home. A new chance at life. Better food. Breathable air. A better future for our children." His voice took on a preacher-like cadence, the kind that demanded attention. "So I want you all to be united. To come together. To build something great here."

A few people clapped politely, but the energy in the room shifted, the weight of his words settling over the crowd like a blanket. Then, his tone darkened, his expression turning serious.

"And one last warning—" he paused, his eyes scanning the crowd as if daring someone to challenge him, "—don’t go out of the fences. It’s dangerous." His voice dropped to a low, ominous tone. "You’ve all heard the stories. You know what’s out there. Stay inside the perimeter. Stay safe."

A heavy silence followed, the kind that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Tom leaned in, his voice low. "Fucking hell," he muttered, shaking his head. "They really want to drill that into our heads, don’t they?"

I didn’t answer right away. My eyes were still on Kate, who had turned her attention to the speaker, her expression unreadable.

But then, as if she could feel my gaze, she glanced back at me, her lips curling into a slow, secretive smile. She bit her lower lip, just slightly, her eyes flicking down to my crotch before meeting mine again.

Fuck.

Tom nudged me with his elbow, snapping me out of it. "Come on, let’s get those drinks before this turns into a full-blown sermon."

I tore my gaze away from Kate, my pulse still thrumming in my ears, and forced myself to focus on the drinks Tom was ordering.

But even as I grabbed the glasses, my mind was still on her—on the way that red dress clung to her body like a second skin, the way her lips parted just enough to tease, the way her tongue had traced her lower lip like she was already imagining it wrapped around my cock. The thought alone made my pants feel tighter, my cock stirring with anticipation.

I handed a drink to Emily first, her fingers brushing against mine as she took it, her smile bright and oblivious to the storm of thoughts in my head.

Then I passed one to Jennifer, her eyes meeting mine for a brief, charged moment. She took the glass, her lips curling into a knowing smirk before she turned back to the group of women she’d been chatting with.

One of them—a brunette with a voice like honey and a dress that left nothing to the imagination—leaned in, her eyes raking over me with unabashed interest. "Jennifer," she purred,

"Is he your husband?"

Jennifer’s cheeks flushed a deep, telling pink, and I could see the way her fingers tightened around her glass.

Before she could answer, Emily stepped in, her voice proud as she laced her fingers through mine. "He’s my husband," she announced, her grip possessive, her smile beaming.

Jennifer recovered quickly, her composure returning as she lifted her chin slightly. "She’s Emily, my daughter," she clarified, her voice smooth but carrying an edge of something darker, something that made my blood run hotter. "And he’s my son-in-law, Mike."

I nodded at the group of women, my gaze flicking over them. Fuck, they had no shame. Every single one of them was dressed to kill, their outfits clinging to curves that had softened with age but were no less enticing.

Deep cleavages were on full display, tits spilling out of their dresses, but unlike Jennifer—whose body was still firm, her skin taut and tempting—these women’s flesh had that lived-in softness, the kind that came from years of indulgence.

Their tits sagged just enough to make it obvious they’d been well-used, their nipples peeking out from beneath the flimsy fabric, begging for attention. It was the kind of sight that made a man’s hands itch to grope, to squeeze, to remind them what it felt like to be owned.

The brunette’s eyes flicked down to my crotch before dragging back up to meet mine, her lips parting in a slow, deliberate smile. "Well, Jennifer," she said, her voice dripping with innuendo, "you’ve got yourself one handful of a son-in-law, don’t you?"

Jennifer’s blush deepened, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes locked onto mine over the rim of the glass. "Yes," she murmured, her voice low and velvety, "I suppose I do."