Dominance Evolution System: Sweat, Sex, and Streetball

The van bumped along the city streets, heading back to the hangar after the wild match and even wilder shower room action.

The Blacklist team was packed inside, and the air felt heavy, like a storm about to break. Tension filled every inch of the space.

The guys, Drex with his bulky arms crossed, Mac slouched low in his seat, and the substitutes fidgeting nervously, kept shooting dark looks at Nash.

Their faces were tight, jaws clenched, eyes full of jealousy that burned like hot coals. They had heard the screams and moans from the shower, seen the girls come out all flushed and clinging to Nash.

It crushed them.

"How does one guy get all that?" one sub whispered to another. Mac just grunted, staring out the window, his fists balled up on his knees.

It wasn't fair to them, they were in the team with the promise of getting women, but it all revolved around one man.

Nia and Alicia didn't help the mood. They had convinced Daliah to let them have the holy seats next to Nash, and now they were pressing close to him on either side, their bodies still warm and marked from the intense session.

They barely had time to shower, so they were filled with an erotic smell more arousing than any perfume.

Nia's hand rested on his thigh, fingers tracing lazy circles, while Alicia leaned her head on his shoulder, her breath hot against his neck.

"Nash," Nia purred softly, "we don't have to stop now. We could find a quiet spot... keep going from the shower. I still feel you inside me."

She bit her lip, eyes sparkling. Alicia chimed in, her hand sliding up his arm.

"Yeah, let's do it. Long and hard, like before. I need more of you."

Their words sent a thrill through Nash, his body remembering the heat, the wetness, the screams.

So, round 2? He had everything, he was living the life. But the guys heard every whisper, and it made the tension worse. Drex shifted in his seat, muttering.

"This is bullshit." Mac's face turned red, like he was about to explode. The air was charged with anger and unyielding rage.

Up front, Victoria, sitting next to Daliah, turned slightly.

"That won't happen," she said. "I need to borrow Nash. You two can wait. This isn't playtime."

Her tone left no room for talk-back. Nia and Alicia pulled away a bit, pouting like kids denied a treat, but their eyes stayed on Nash.

The guys let out small breaths of relief.

The van pulled into Blacklist's hangar. A weak light cast long shadows on the concrete floor, and the smell of oil and rubber filled the air.

Victoria hopped out first.

"Alright, team," she called, standing tall. "Debrief tomorrow at noon. Rest up, train, whatever, just be ready. We got wins to chase."

The team got out slowly, stretching sore muscles from the game. The guys nodded but shot one last glare at Nash before heading to the streets.

Drex slammed a car door harder than needed, Mac kicked a pebble across the floor. The substitutes mumbled goodbyes.

Nia and Alicia lingered near Nash, whispering.

"See you soon," with winks that made the guys' blood boil even more.

Nash stepped out, feeling the cool night air hit his skin. Victoria and Daliah waited for him.

"You're riding with us," Victoria said, not asking. Daliah nodded, opening the door of Victoria's car nearby.

Nash climbed in the back. They pulled out, leaving the hangar behind.

The drive to Midnight Rest took about twenty minutes, winding through busy streets lined with neon signs and late-night crowds.

City lights blurred past the windows, reds, blues, yellows flashing like fireworks. Nash leaned back in his seat, his mind racing with the day's events.

So much had happened today. From his debuts, to the big show, to the halftime sex, to the correction, to the foursome.

Victoria glanced back once or twice, her face calm but curious. Daliah drove in silence, her eyes on the road.

The radio played soft music, but no one talked much.

They parked outside Midnight Rest, the club's sign glowing bright in the obscurity. The door slid open, and Nash stepped out into this wall of hot, sticky air he missed.

The bass from inside thumped like a giant heart beating under the sidewalk, vibrating through his shoes.

Victoria led the way again, the crowd outside parted for her, like she was a force of nature.

Nash followed, his eyes drawn to Victoria's hips swaying with each step, because at this point why not? Why should he care? It was rather hard not to look.

Inside, the main room was a sea of red, lights dripping crimson on walls, floors wet and gleaming like fresh paint.

People danced close, bodies grinding, sweat mixing with laughter. Up high, girls twisted on metal rings, legs wide, skin oiled and glowing, moaning.

At the bar, a woman was taken by two men at once, one behind, one in front, both driving into her, lifting her off the ground with each thrust.

She cried out, her voice breaking with each slap of flesh. The crowd around roared, cheering like it was a match, glasses raised high.

Some clapped in rhythm, others whistled, egging the trio on. Nearby, another girl in fishnets and a mask was bobbing between a man's legs.

Under bright lights, a brunette with curves for days, naked except for glittery heels, bent over a guy on a couch.

She faced away, ass up, sliding down on him with quick, brutal thrusts. Wet slaps echoed—smack, smack, smack—mixing with the music's beat.

Her moans were raw and loud.

"Ah... fuck, yes!"

Sweat flew off her back, thighs quivering, her wetness shining as she dripped. She reached back, nails digging into his leg, while he groaned.

They kissed over her shoulder, messy and deep, her breasts shaking with every move.

"F-fuck!" he yelled, body jerking as he came.

She screamed too, head thrown back, grinding slow to milk him dry.

Money rained from his pocket; the crowd clapped and whistled. She laughed, slapping his chest playfully, still on top.

Another night in the night rest.

Nash kept his cool, grinning.

"I should pay a visit, maybe."

A waitress in a skimpy maid outfit hurried up, holding a tray. Victoria dropped her keys in without looking. Another appeared with a drink menu, but Victoria waved her off.

She led to the hidden elevator behind thick curtains, where a familiar hostess in a short uniform was backed against the shiny wall, a customer holding her up, her legs wrapped tight around him.

He thrust steadily, her body thumping the mirror, fogging it up. Sweat rolled down their skins, drops hitting the floor. Juices trailed down her thigh, glistening.

She smiled wildly, gasping for air. Then her eyes caught Nash standing there.

She laughed breathlessly, waved with one shaky hand.

"Ohhh—The amazing cock! Hell—Hello!"

Nash dragged a hand down his face, muttering, half–facepalm. Daliah's lips twitched, amused, before she said dryly.

"Well, I can probably back it up."

The hostess spotted Victoria and straightened instantly despite being mid-act, her voice wobbly but professional. She gave an enthusiastic salute.

"M-madam... welcome back," she said, her tone still businesslike even as the man pounded away.

Victoria ignored the show.

"Top floor."

The hostess stretched, arm shaking, nearly missing the button. Then she rattled off updates like any other day.

"Lobby's busy... oh god... two VIP rooms taken... ah... bar sales up thirty percent... mmm..."

Her words mixed with gasps, wet slaps echoing in the small space. Her thigh shone wet, dripping more.

The guy grunted, excited to have an audience. He lifted her higher, going harder. She kept going.

"No issues with security... fuck... all tabs clear..."

Then she shuddered, nails raking his back, as he groaned and came inside in his condom. He set her down gently, both breathing hard. She fixed her uniform, smirking.

"One fifty credits."

"One fifty?!" he barked.

"Hundred for basic. Fifty extra for the rush," she said sweetly. Victoria's stare made him pay without fuss.

The doors dinged open; she stepped out smiling.

"Come again soon."

They walked into Victoria's office. Victoria sat behind it, motioning Nash to sit. Daliah stood next to her.

Nash took a seat, surprised she was talking to him like an equal, not another player. She was really taking his contract talk seriously, and it seemed like he had more power than he could imagine.

"So, Nash," Victoria said, leaning back. "You did well today, on court and in the shower. What's your opinion on the team? How do we get them better?"

Nash relaxed, crossing his legs.

"Hm... Let me see... More girls, maybe?"

Victoria tilted her head.

"Girls? For your halftime entertainment? I'm glad we won this time, but we won't get away with it every time if our team depends on one person. We're building a winning team, not a date club. How does that get us titles?"

Daliah nodded, agreeing with her.

"It's a bad idea. More girls bring drama, fights, and split loyalties. The men are jealous already. What if they start messing up games on purpose?"

Nash looked at Daliah, calm but with that inner fire. He wasn't just confident; he knew he had a hidden card, but couldn't say that his power would make anyone play better.

"The guys? They'll push harder to keep up, or they'll sit. I make the team change, believe it. There will always be room for results." He shrugged, casual but sure. "Girls add... that extra edge, it's like my reward for playing well, right?"

Victoria pressed.

"You think you can keep the peace? The locker room's already tense."

He grinned, smooth.

"Peace? What's your goal? Winning or having a good family mood? The team's success will improve thanks to my setup. I don't mind the boys; I just want more girls for better motivation, and because it will be funny. Simple as that."

Daliah crossed her arms tighter.

"And if it crashes? Girls quit, guys rebel?"

Nash's eyes narrowed, his smile stretching.

"I doubt any girl would leave, and I'll make sure of that. As long as I have four teammates who know how to play, they will perform. You saw how I handle things today; that was a test. Risks? That's where the fun is, I don't see a problem, just a complication."

His words hung, backed by his results, making even Daliah pause, respecting his position.

Victoria smiled faintly, amused inside. This guy, no, this man wasn't just talent; he could make her vision real and realize her goal. He was the best investment she ever made.

Additionally, his request for girls showed that he was open to deals. She could provide sex; he would pay her in results.

"Fine, Nash. Deliver wins, and I'll bring the girls. Any pussy in this trash world is yours. You ask, and I'll give you anyone you want."

Nash nodded, then paused momentarily. Any pussy? To someone like him, it was interesting, but he had so many that he started craving for a challenge, and an interesting one was right in front of him.

Maybe he could ask her as his gift? It was very tempting, but it was better to play it safe for now. Plus, he had to take care of something before the system decided to screw him again.

"Sounds good." He simply said.