The three men looked at you as you entered. They remembered your agreement clearly.

You're in need of learning, and they're need of sex.

Mitchell has wavy dark brown hair and pitchblack eyes. The sun kissed god in person. He sits with his legs spread open, his chin bored in his hand as he eyes you up and down. You seem a little nervous of your first session.

Gabriel is the poet of this clique. He also has brown hair but it's longer. He's much gentler, yet just as filled with lewd thoughts as the others.

And then there's Zayn, who's a natural hunter. With his ginger hair and bright gummy smile you wouldn't suspect him to be the cruelest out of them all.

"Come here," said Zayn, patting the seat next to him at the table. "Let's study."