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Shyla didn’t realize she had it in her, she was certainly no great expert at fellatio, but somehow she’d managed to take more of him than any man before him. Perhaps it was the position. Perhaps it was the way he controlled her, pushing her boundaries. Perhaps it was her own deep desire to fully experience every nuance of this.
Sensations swirled in her head. There was so much, too much, to concentrate on any one thing. Layer upon layer of decadent awareness. Subtle variations of perception which built into something far greater than any one of them would be one their own.
All of them were pleasurable, but together they were explosive.
Lazarus added to them, lifting her even higher when she had thought that was impossible, when he cupped her modest breasts, then played with her aching nipples, manipulating the pebble hard tips. Pinching, squeezing, twisting until twin shards of pleasure and pain had her writhing against them all and moaning around Dante’s surging cock.
Drool pooled at the sides of her mouth and dripped down her chin. Her eyes streamed. Dante pushed to the back of her throat and made her gag and somehow the sound seemed to snap something inside them all because the thin veneer of civilized finesse was suddenly, violently, ferociously, shrugged off and all three became frenzied, fucking her as if their lives depended on it.
Jericho landed a sharp slap against one of her buttocks and Shyla screamed around Dante’s cock, more from surprise than actual pain.
Dante groaned and tightened his fingers in her hair, throwing his head back and screwing up his eyes, his features a rictus of pleasure. He liked that. In some distant part of her brain, she tucked that knowledge away for future reference.
Lazarus pulled at her nipples like he was using them for leverage and the glittering shards of pain arrowed straight to her clit, ratcheting up the taut coil of desire that was building inside her and threatening to explode.
Jericho ploughed into her, his thighs slapping against hers and his heavy balls swinging against the sensitive skin of her perineum and layering on further sensations.
Lazarus surged up into her, and she met him with the weight of her body, so he bottomed out against her cervix, the jolt sparking a heady mix of pleasure-pain which had her sobbing and choking on Dante’s length.
It was a beautifully orchestrated dance. One that robbed her of conscious thought and only allowed her to feel.
And the feeling was sublime.
Dante grunted, his movements becoming jerky, and she knew he was close.
“Best get your junk out of her mouth, before she comes,” Jericho muttered, his voice choppy and strained. “You don’t want her to bite your cock in reflex.”
Dante’s fingers ground against her scalp and Shyla renewed her efforts to suck him off. It clearly worked because moments later, ropes of salty cum were shooting down her throat and Shyla struggled to swallow the copious amounts.
He finally withdrew and collapsed back onto his haunches, his blue eyes glittering as he stared at her. Later she might wonder what a sight she made, with tears streaming down her face and cum and drool decorating her chin, but in that moment none of it mattered. He reached forward and wiped her mouth, then his eyes dropped to her breasts where his brother still taunted her nipples before his gaze, brooding and intense, returned to her face and captured her eyes, refusing to let them go.
Having him watch her while she was being fucked by his brothers spiked her pleasure another notch, and Shyla sucked in a breath, let out a long moan, and bit her lip as her core began to clench.
Jericho reached around and found her slippery nub, rotating it a couple of times with sure, firm strokes before he pinched it between his fingers.
And just like that, the coil that had been winding tighter and tighter just snapped.
Shyla’s breath caught in her throat, her mouth forming a startled O and her eyes widening, still locked with Dante’s as a climax with the power of a tsunami hurled her up onto the crest then threw her over the other side.
Her breathing resumed on a keening wail, sensations unlike any she’d ever known crashing around her and converging into the strongest orgasm of her life.
Waves of culmination continued to ebb and flow, and Jericho and Dante roughly rode her through her orgasm. Their panting breath, lusty groans and slapping skin provided a passionate soundtrack to their carnal fucking. Their movements became choppy and uncoordinated as they reached their own climax and both surged into her at the same time, forcing a strangled scream from her throat as she peaked again while they both spent their seed inside her before all four of them collapsed together in a heap. Each of them sated and fulfilled.
Satisfied and content in the afterglow of their coupling, Shyla was glad Lazarus had the forethought to keep some hot water back. They cleaned up and settled down to sleep, but true to their word the three of them woke her often during the long, dark hours of the night, rotating until all of them had taken her in every way it was possible.
She didn’t know she had so many orgasms in her. Always before it had been one and done, but it seemed three lovers didn’t accept that. Each one of them seemed determined to wring every last ounce of pleasure from her.
Not that Shyla was complaining. Just surprised at the greedy, wanton creature she’d become. A part of herself she’d never recognized.
At one point during the night, Dante pulled her underneath him, his lips seeking hers, this time slowly and leisurely. He kissed her deeply, but unhurriedly, then he nuzzled and nibbled at her neck. He feathered nipping, suctioning kisses across her collarbone and chest until he reached her breasts and worshipped them.
When he’d worked her into a frenzy, he finally settled over the top of her, pressing into her steadily, but deeply, filling her, then grinding against her lazily, before pulling out equally slowly and doing it all over again.
He made love to her with excruciating deliberation, never hurrying, just sliding his long length in and out, over, and over, until Shyla was writhing and panting and desperate for more.
“Touch yourself,” he demanded, moving to one side to give her room. “I want to watch you.”
Shyla felt herself blush; despite everything they’d already done before. She glided her hand down her body and sucked in an audible gasp when her fingers found her slick, sensitive nub which ached and pouted.
