Another message notification slid down from the top of the screen.
Lyra: [Hoogle Maps link]
Arin tapped it without hesitation.
The pin dropped on Cedar Street, a quiet residential lane barely three kilometers away.
Walking: 28 minutes. Taxi: 12 minutes.
Before he could even close the map, another message popped up.
Lyra : "Be there in 18 minutes max. Don't even dream of running… its not over arin"
Arin's lips curled into a half-smirk. He fired back a thumbs-up emoji followed by a smirking one.
He shoved the phone into his pocket and pushed through the auditorium doors.
The lobby had exploded back to life. Students poured out in waves, voices overlapping in excited chaos—some still clutching half-empty popcorn buckets, others sprinting toward the restrooms, a few already arguing about whether the movie's ending was good or trash.
"Yo, let's hit the food court real quick!" Jeremy called out, throwing an arm over Reiner's shoulder. "I'm starving."
Reiner, John, Alex, and Sam all nodded eagerly, already turning toward the food court, but Arin raised a hand.
"Nah, guys, I'm out. I Gotta go home quick. Personal reason, y'know?"
Reiner spun back, eyes wide. "Ah, come on, man! It'll be quick. Five of us splitting the bill? Practically free food!"
Tempting as it sounded but there was no way in hell, arin was trading greasy fries and pizza's for the promise burning in his pocket. How could any guy in his right mind choose fast food over a hungry, insatiable MILF who'd just invited him to wreck her world?.
"Sorry, guys. It's urgent," Arin said, already backing away. "Mom's coming home early. If I'm not there when she walks in, she'll skin me alive."
Total lie, delivered with the perfect amount of sheepish panic. The magic word "mom" worked like a charm; their protests died instantly.
They groaned, waved him off with lazy. "Catch you guys later", and let him go.
Arin didn't waste another second. He slipped through the crowd, pushed out the grand glass doors of Auxmino Theatre, and flagged the first taxi he saw.
He hadn't even gotten a proper goodbye from Lyra. The moment the credits hit, that fat bastard had latched onto her elbow like a leech and dragged her into the surging crowd before Arin could stand.
Didn't matter.
She'd already told him exactly where to meet her, and in what mood. Arin slid into the back seat, gave the driver the address, and checked the time.
Eleven minutes, the map said.
He smirked.
He'd be there in ten.
His phone buzzed again, a one-time photo this time.
Arin tapped it before it vanished.
Lyra, lounging in the back of her own cab, lips glossy, seatbelt pressed tight between her breasts, one finger tugging the neckline of her red dress just low enough to make his mouth go dry.
The caption was a single devil emoji.
Arin snapped a quick shot through the taxi window: city lights streaking past, his hand up, middle finger front and center.
He sent it.
A heartbeat later, she reacted with a single smirking emoji.
Sixteen minutes later, after crawling through a brutal traffic jam that tested every ounce of his patience, the taxi finally pulled up.
Arin stepped out onto Cedar Street and stared at the house in front of him. A modest single-story painted in crisp white with warm tortoiseshell trim, the white wooden door blending so seamlessly it almost disappeared into the wall.
Another cab rolled up behind his.
Lyra stepped out, heels clicking once on the pavement before she kicked them off and padded barefoot to the door. She unlocked it with a soft beep, glanced over her shoulder with a look that said 'hurry the hell up, and disappeared inside'.
Arin followed, pulse already hammering.
The interior was small but immaculate: perfect for one person who didn't like clutter. A cozy living room greeted him, centered around a low glass coffee table and a plush gray sofa. Directly across, a flat-screen was mounted on the wall. To the left, a half-open kitchen door; to the right, the bedroom.
He toed off his sneakers, dropped onto the sofa, and let out a slow breath.
Lyra disappeared into the kitchen without a word and returned with a chilled can of iced coffee. She pressed it into his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Thanks, Lyra ma'am… you're too sweet," Arin said, voice soft and polite, the perfect good-boy act.
She didn't reply. Just flicked him a half-lidded glance that promised all kinds of trouble, then turned and disappeared into the bedroom without a single word.
Arin leaned back on the sofa, sipping the iced coffee in silence, letting the anticipation coil tighter in his gut.
A few minutes later the door opened again.
Lyra stepped out wearing tiny black denim shorts, the frayed hems riding dangerously high, hugging every curve of that firm, bouncy ass. A tight white sports bra clung to her chest like a second skin, the thin fabric stretched so taut her stiff nipples poked straight through, impossible to miss.
Arin's eyes widened, his mouth parting in a silent shock as the iced-coffee can froze halfway to his lips.
'Holy hell…".
Every other MILF he'd ever hooked up with suddenly felt like they'd come from a different era.
Lyra wasn't just a hot milf. She was modern, bold, and shamelessly lethal, the kind of woman who could ruin a man's soul with a single look and a pair of frayed shorts.
She crooked one finger at him, slow, deliberate, a silent command from the bedroom doorway.
Arin drained the last drop of iced coffee in a single gulp, tossed the can aside, and stalked toward her like a wolf finally off its leash.
The second he was in reach, his hands shot straight to her ass, palms sliding under the frayed denim, fingers sinking into warm, firm flesh.
*Squeeze—Squeeze*
A low, throaty laugh vibrated against his neck.
"Hah… teenagers always go straight for their favorite toy, don't they?" she teased, voice velvet and smoke.
Arin's grip tightened, fingers digging deeper into that perfect ass.
"Don't let my age fool you, Lyra," he murmured, matching her dangerous tone note for note.
*SLAP!!*
The sharp crack of his palm against her jiggly flesh rang out like a gunshot. She jolted forward with a gasp, the impact sending ripples across her cheeks before they bounced right back into his hands.
He dragged her the rest of the way in, crushing her against his chest. Those stiff nipples stabbed through the thin fabric, branding his skin with heat.
Her body was burning now, radiating need.
And for a single heartbeat, a faint, translucent panel flickered in the edge of his vision.
[ LEVEL UP ]