Another trip: Part 7 (the twins)
Sure, Sofia may think “everyone’s lightly spoiled,” and Kaori may say “let’s make it decadent”…
…but no one knows yet what surprise Chen has prepared for them.
Because Chen, the agent of chaos and delight, will be enlisting some assistance from the famous Hernández twins.
Yes. The Hernández twins. Everyone in Seattle knows of them—those statuesque, sinfully gorgeous, slightly infamous figures with their matching curves, mirrored mischief, and reputations that leave even Vegas legends blushing. Identical in appearance, opposites in style:
Isabella Hernández, sleek and sultry, a quiet seductress with the eyes of a panther and lips that move like velvet sin.
Gabriella Hernández, wild and radiant, energy like champagne bubbles and hips that dance on impulse.
Together, they’ve been whispered about in hotel lobbies and penthouse rumors—but tonight, Chen booked them. Separately. Strategically.
Isabella, the cool, poised, sin-wrapped-in-silk, will be Chen’s tonight. A private welcome to Vegas unlike anything the suite’s ever seen. One-on-one. Chen plans to be ruined slowly and thoroughly.
And the wild-eyed, gold-tongued, maybe-a-little-dangerous Gabriella will be waiting at the Sea-Tac hotel with a playful, glinting message:
“Hi, sweet things. Heard your flight got bumped. Lucky me.”
Gabriella arrives at the harem’s suite just after dessert, when June’s licking chocolate mousse off her spoon and Kaori is halfway through a second bath, planning another “candid” mirror shoot. Sofia will answer the door in a robe. Riley will peek around her hip, wide-eyed.
She says, smoothly: “Your beloved Chen left a little gift. Said you’d be restless tonight. Said you deserved some…company.”
A flick of her tongue. A slow peel of a coat. And then—
“I don’t bite unless asked. But I do take turns.”
Meanwhile, in Vegas…
Isabella is pressing Chen into five-star sheets. Hands dexterous. Voice low.
“They’re in good hands,” she murmurs, straddling their hips with the ease of experience. “Now let me give you something worth confessing to them tomorrow night.”
Chen’s cock grows harder, throbbing against the bed sheet just from hearing Isabella’s voice.
But tonight, there’s going to be not just indulgence.
There’s going to be high-definition, full-sensory mutual decadence—live, streaming, filthy, and absolutely unforgettable.
It begins with a familiar chime.
Chen’s already tangled in Isabella’s limbs—her thigh between theirs, her tongue tracing the edge of their ear—when their phone buzzes.
Kaori’s name lights up the screen, along with a message:
Incoming harem call. Camera mandatory. Clothing optional.
Chen answers with a grin—and suddenly they’re looking at all four of them, sprawled in that enormous bed back in Sea-Tac, glowing and flushed, a little tipsy, a lot turned on.
Kaori has taken command of the camera, of course.
She’s naked but for a choker and a wicked smirk, one hand juggling her tit lazily. “Hope you’re being a good slut in Vegas, baby. Because we’re about to ruin your ability to focus.”
June is already climbing into Gabriella’s lap, giggling as the twin drags her nails down her back. “She’s insane,” June breathes. “She told me to ride her tongue like I mean it. So I’m gonna.”
Sofia and Riley are curled beside each other, flushed and breathless, fingers intertwined. Sofia smiles knowingly at the camera, glasses slightly askew. “She’s exquisite, Chen. You really do think of everything.”
Riley, flushed and trembling, just murmurs, “Thank you,” before letting Gabriella pull them in for a kiss so slow it makes Chen whimper.
And they’re watching Chen too.
Their 4K camera’s perfectly angled—Vegas suite glowing behind them, silk sheets already messy. Isabella straddles Chen with predatory grace, pressing her breasts to their chest as she murmurs into the mic,
“Smile for them, sweetheart. Let them see what their little ringleader looks like begging.”
Kaori moans when she hears that.
“Touch yourself, Chen baby. Let us see. Let me see. You look so good when you’re needy.”
Two scenes. Two beds. Two identical, impossibly skilled twins—each one dragging moans and gasps out of their respective lovers. Linked across state lines in shared, erotic feedback.
Moans echo between screens. Fingers stroke in rhythm. Chen and their harem, connected by sight and sound and want, watching each other fall apart.
And as one of the harem members groans, “Cum for us, baby—let’s cum together—” and as one of the twins whispers, “They love you so much it makes them greedy,” Chen realizes:
This is the most intimate kind of “distance.” And the most depraved kind of “together.”