Late evening sun slanted through the windows, casting a warm amber glow across Lor's room.
Everything was in place.
His bedsheets were flat, the floor swept, and he'd dabbed on a trace of his best cologne—not too strong, just enough to feel like something was about to happen.
He ran a hand through his damp hair and glanced at the mirror.
Clean shirt. Relaxed posture. Smirk carefully calibrated.
She'll knock any second now.
He could already imagine Eva's thighs brushing together as she climbed the steps, skirt twitching with every movement.
He had no doubt she'd show up in something "casual" that left nothing to the imagination.
Her way of pretending she didn't care while her clothes said otherwise.
The knock came.
He grinned.
Then came another—lighter, quicker. Two knocks. Two rhythms.
His grin faltered.
From downstairs, his mother's voice rang out, cheerful and surprised, "Oh! Two of you?"
Lor's heart skipped.
He crept down the stairs to peek past the railing—and stopped.
Standing in the entryway were Eva and Olivia.
Eva wore a form-hugging knit top, the neckline just modest enough to pretend she didn't know it pressed tightly around her full chest, the fabric stretched taut across the top of her bust.
Her short, ruffled skirt sat high on her hips, riding up slightly on one side to reveal a sliver of her lace-trimmed thigh-highs. Her dark blue hair, streaked with pink, was loose tonight, her bow tucked slightly lower, giving her a more relaxed—but no less dangerous—look.
Next to her, Olivia looked like she was trying to play innocent and failing.
Her white tunic blouse, soft and thin, clung to her large chest in a way that betrayed every curve, the fabric gently lifting with each breath.
She wore slim, charcoal riding pants that hugged her hips and thighs, the soft material leaving nothing to the imagination from behind.
Her wavy light-brown bob shimmered under the lanternlight, framing her face like a magical spell.
Lor's mother, standing in the doorway in her apron and slippers, blinked between the two girls with confusion and delight.
"Oh goodness, both of you? Lor didn't say anything about that," she said, smiling warmly.
"Not that I mind! It's good to see him doing something for his education."
Eva stepped in first, voice smooth. "We're here for a study session."
Olivia nodded politely. "Lor's been struggling in class, so I thought I'd offer to help as well."
His mother's face lit up like someone had just told her they'd found gold buried under the backyard. "That's wonderful! Thank you both so much! He needs the help. He really does."
Eva tossed her hair, her hips swaying as she stepped further inside. "I actually scored ten out of a hundred on the last test."
His mother's eyes went wide. "Ten? Out of a hundred?"
She clapped her hands together. "That's fantastic for a Class D student! Truly! I knew someone in that class had a brain."
She turned and called up the stairs, "Lor, did you hear that? Eva scored ten!"
"I heard," he muttered under his breath.
His mother turned back to the girls, gaze drifting down Olivia's outfit. "Now… what do you call that shirt? It's so short. Is it… cropped?"
Olivia flushed faintly. "It's just a soft tunic. Very popular among women these days."
"I see. And those pants?" She tilted her head. "Are they meant to be that… fitted?"
"They're for agility," Olivia said quickly.
His mother looked unsure. "Mmm. And Eva, dear, that skirt of yours—what do you call that style?"
Eva smiled thinly. "Strategically motivating."
"Well," his mom said brightly, "as long as your brains are sharper than your hems."
She clapped her hands. "I'll bring some snacks. Cookies, perhaps? Maybe tea?"
"No!" both girls said instantly, a little too fast.
His mother blinked, startled. "No?"
Eva stepped forward quickly, her bust subtly bouncing beneath her top. "Lor's attention is very delicate. Even crumbs can ruin a study flow."
Olivia nodded with rehearsed calm. "He needs full focus. One bite and the whole lesson unravels."
His mother hesitated. "Hmm. I always thought food helped studying."
"Not with Lor," Eva said sweetly. "He's a bit… special."
That seemed to land.
His mother nodded slowly, smiling with understanding. "Alright. I'll let you three work. I won't interrupt. Just call if you need anything. Or if he collapses from mental overload."
Eva led the way up the stairs, her skirt twitching dangerously high with each step.
Olivia followed, posture straight, hips rolling slightly in those obscenely tight pants.
Lor stepped back from his doorway just in time for the two of them to enter.
They filed in silently.
Eva crossed her arms, chest pushed up, and leaned against the desk. Her green eyes burned directly into him.
Olivia sat lightly on the edge of the chair, her knees close, hands folded in her lap, breasts softly shifting beneath the thin tunic fabric.
Lor exhaled, folding his arms and leaning casually back.
"Well," he said, tone mild but pulse accelerating, "this got a lot more interesting."