Ben is transported to a virtual world where he discovers his childhood friend Alice in an intimate relationship with a stranger. What secrets does the 'Endless Sea' hold?
The world vanished in a blinding flash before Ben felt the salty chill of the sea air hit his face. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in his room, but in the middle of an endless ocean, where the horizon was lost in a blue haze and the water glittered under an eternal sun that never seemed to move. Waves gently rocked a floating wooden platform beneath his feet, and holographic messages floated in the air from a global chat, where hundreds of voices crisscrossed, offering resources, talents, and services in exchange for trade coins. "Welcome to the Endless Sea, Ben. Here, everyone has a gift. What will yours be?" a flashing notification read in front of him.
Ben swallowed, still dazed by the transition. His body, now clad in a lightweight, stretchy suit that hugged his muscles, responded strangely, as if every sense was amplified. Activating the audio system, the chat sounds mingled with something else: a wet, repetitive rhythm, like flesh slapping against flesh. His brow furrowed. Was it a system error? But then, among the business messages, a familiar name flashed red: Alice.
With trembling fingers, he opened the conversation. Alice's profile picture—her shy smile, her flushed cheeks, the same face he'd known since they were kids—brought him momentary relief. But the audio was still there, that obscene sound that didn't fit his image of his friend. "Hey, Ben, you're here too!" came her voice, cheerful, almost sing-song. "I just rescued a guy on a floating island. He's hurt, but he's teaching me yoga in exchange for help. It's super relaxing!"
Ben gritted his teeth. He knew that tone. It was the same one Alice used when she was lying by omission, when she was hiding something behind a too-wide smile. "Yoga, huh?" he typed, the sound of fleshy slapping getting clearer, as if someone were adjusting the volume. "Sounds... intense." His eyes slid down to the bulge already starting to form in his crotch. He couldn't help it. The thought of Alice—his Alice—entangled with another man excited and sickened him at the same time.
"It is!" she replied, followed by a blushing face emoji. "He's showing me a new pose. He says it helps open the chakras or something. Look!"
Before Ben could react, the screen lit up with a live feed. The image was grainy at first, but then it adjusted, revealing Alice in a clearing on a small island, surrounded by palm trees and glittering rocks. She was wearing a baby-blue bikini, the same one she'd worn on the beach when they were teenagers, but now the material clung to her curves in a way that made it impossible to ignore how much she'd changed. Her breasts, fuller than in his memories, moved with every breath, and the dark triangle between her thighs glistened slightly, as if she were… wet.
But she wasn't alone.
Behind her, a man—tall, tanned, and muscular—had his hands on her hips, guiding her into what was supposedly a yoga pose. "Take a deep breath, Alice. Arch your back—just right," he murmured, his voice deep and resonant, echoing through Ben's speakers like a filthy whisper. His fingers slid from her ribs to her stomach, stopping dangerously close to the hem of her bikini bottom. Alice complied, arching, the movement grinding her buttocks against his crotch. Ben could see him bite his lower lip, as if holding back a moan.
"See, Ben? He's super professional!" Alice said, turning her head slightly toward the camera, but her eyes were glassy, her pupils dilated. "It gives me a good stretch." The man, still holding her, bent his head and placed a slow kiss on the crook of her neck. Alice let out a small gasp, but in the chat, she only wrote: "Oops! I think that tickled."
Ben felt his cock harden completely, pressed painfully against the suit. "Doesn't look like yoga," he typed, his fingers trembling. "Looks like he's... touching you." The man on the screen smiled, as if he knew he was being watched, and slid a hand down Alice's side to rest on her thigh. His fingers moved closer, brushing the edge of her bikini bottom, and then Ben saw it: the subtle movement of her wrist, the way her fingers dipped slightly between her pussy lips.
Alice let out a shaky sigh, but in the chat, she just sent, "Don't be so exaggerated! It's just a massage to relax the muscles. :P."
"A massage"—Ben almost laughed, but the sound that left his throat was more like a grunt. With one hand, he freed his erection from his suit, thick and throbbing, and began rubbing himself in slow, synchronized motions with the stranger's fingers now massaging Alice's pussy more insistently. "Show me better," he typed, knowing she couldn't—or wouldn't—refuse. The camera adjusted, zooming in, and Ben could clearly see the man's fingers moving in circles over the damp fabric of her bikini, Alice biting her lip to stifle a moan.
"God, Alice…" Ben whispered, quickening the pace of his hand. "Do you like being touched like this?" She didn't respond in the chat, but on the stream, her body spoke volumes: her hips moved in small circles, seeking more pressure, and when the man bent his head to lick the sweat from her shoulder, she let out a strangled moan.
"Let's try another position," the man said, and before Ben could protest, the image moved. Alice was guided to a flat rock, where she got on her hands and knees, her ass up in the air, exposed. Her bikini bottom barely covered the cleft between her buttocks, and the man wasted no time: in one swift movement, he pulled the material to one side, revealing her pink, glistening pussy. "Breathe, Alice," he murmured, as with one hand he parted her vaginal lips and with the other he gently slapped her bottom. "This is to open the root chakra."
Ben held his breath. "Alice…" he typed, but she wasn't responding in the chat anymore. On the feed, only her ragged breathing could be heard as the man knelt behind her. "Do you see this, Ben?"—the stranger's voice came through clearly, as if he knew he was listening—"Alice is a good girl. She knows she needs this." And then, without further ado, he thrust his hips forward, sinking his cock into Alice's tight pussy in one fluid motion.
"Ah—!" Alice's scream was cut off by a long, shuddering moan. Her fingers dug into the rock, her knuckles white with the force. "S-says it hurts a little…" she finally typed into the chat, her handwriting clumsy, as if she could barely focus. "But it's normal, isn't it? It's part of the… of the exercise."
Ben couldn't tear his eyes away. The man's cock disappeared again and again between Alice's swollen lips, its base glistening with fluids each time he withdrew. Each thrust made her buttocks jiggle, and the wet sound of their bodies colliding filled Ben's speakers, mixing with his own gasps as he masturbated furiously. "You're lying," he typed, the letters blurred by the sweat fogging the screen. "It's not yoga. He's fucking you, Alice. He's fucking you hard."
She didn't respond. On the feed, she was seen biting her lip until it bled, her eyes closed, her body accepting each thrust with a stifled moan. The man gripped her hips tightly, leaving red marks on her skin, and every time he sank into her, Alice let out a small squeal that sounded more like pleasure than pain.
Ben felt his own orgasm approaching, inexorable. "Why, Alice?" he typed, but the words were lost in the void. On the screen, she finally opened her eyes, looking directly into the camera, as if she knew he was there, watching. Her lips curved into a guilty, almost defiant smile before the man grabbed her hair and forced her back to arch even further, penetrating her with a stroke so deep that Ben swore he could see her belly slightly deform.
The climax hit him like a wave, hot and sticky, staining his suit as a broken moan escaped his lips. But there was no relief. Only emptiness. And betrayal.
When the stream abruptly cut out, Ben stared at the blank screen, his semen still dripping from his fingers. "Alice?" he typed, but she was no longer online.
The Endless Sea was still there, infinite and indifferent. And Ben, for the first time, understood that some abysses weren't of water, but of broken trust. He clumsily wiped himself, feeling the weight of what he had just witnessed. Alice, his Alice, letting herself be fucked by a stranger while lying to his face.
How long had he been like this? How many times had he closed his eyes, pretending everything was the same?
The global chat was still active, filled with laughter, empty offers, and empty promises. But all Ben could hear was the echo of Alice's moans and the sound of his own breathing, ragged and guilty.
In the end, I turn off the screen.
I didn't want to see any more. But I knew he'd come back for her. He always did.