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Immediately, Justin’s come begins the slow descent out of Julia’s pussy. It’s thick and warm, dripping from her perfectly stretched hole and into her slicked-up arse crack. I place a dollop on my pinky and rub it into her clit before sucking the tight nub between my lips and flicking it with my tongue.
Julia pushes against me, bringing one hand to my hair to hold me between her legs. Her breathing picks up, little mews of need and pleasure falling from her lips. She’s bloody insatiable lately. Even with the two of us, we can barely keep up. Pregnancy has done more than simply make her glow with the life growing inside her.
It's made us delirious with the need to keep her round with our babies for as long as she'll let us, and it’s given her the sex drive of a sixteen-year-old boy.
Together it's a dangerous combination. One that all but guarantees we spend more time out of our clothes than in. Poor Mrs. Jones leaves whenever we're all home together.
There’s something indescribable about the salty taste of Justin’s cum mixed with the tangy sweetness of Julia’s juices. I could live between her legs, licking up whatever he leaves behind for me. Somehow it's better than sucking it straight from the source.
I dip my thumbs into her pussy and stretch her hole even wider.
“You have the loveliest cunt, baby girl. It’s so rosy and warm.”
Justin’s cum is starting to slip down her arse now, milky-white and creamy, and that’s just a waste. I was supposed to be eating, not playing with my food. Using my thumbs, I scoop it up, pressing just a bit into her arsehole before putting the rest back where it belongs. Deep inside her pussy.
Scooping my hands under her bum to lift her arse off the table, I delve my tongue into her center, licking out the lunch Justin so generously left for me.
~??~
Somewhere between her first and second orgasm, I realize it's not enough. I don't think I'll ever get enough of them. I was right a year ago when I said they'd become my addiction.
Of course, then, I thought I needed to suffer through withdrawal and rehab. Now I've succumbed—hook, line, and sinker—and agonize through the DTs whenever I go too long without.
Meaning hours.
The time between breakfast and dinner feels like torture some days.
But today, especially, I'm in perpetual agony. Every time I pull my lips away feels like we've been apart for too long.
I slip my fingers into her pussy, so I don't lose that connection and rise to my feet between her knees.
She's got to be uncomfortable being on the desk for that long. She's barely moved since she assumed her position other than to grind her cunt against my nose. Jules sits up as I stand, and by unspoken agreement, we meet somewhere in the middle.
Her hands cup my face as her tongue delves into my mouth. I moan against her lips, imagining I can taste Justin on her in the same way she can taste her pussy on me.
"Hey, baby girl?"
"Uh-huh," she replies, tugging on my bottom lip and bumbling to unbutton my shirt.
"Can I?" I mumble. "I wanna, I need to–" her nails drag down my back, and I groan incoherently, shucking my shirt with a shrug of my shoulders and switching my hand between her legs, so my fingers are always inside of her. "I wanna make your pussy dance," I finally squeeze out, then blush at how pathetic that sounds.
I don't think she notices. Her hands are already jerking my belt around my hips and yanking at my zipper. All the while attempting to keep our lips entwined.
I fucking love kissing her.
"Sure," she agrees, nodding with my tongue licking at her mouth. "Whatever you want. Just as long as you don't stop touching me."
It's difficult to do with one hand, but I manage to get her suspenders unhooked from her stockings. I roll down the left, dropping it to the ground, then switch hands again, letting my fingers slide through her dripping folds while I drag down the other.
She's got my pants shoved below my ass, and I groan when her fist wraps around my cock and starts pumping in harsh, frantic strokes.
"Fuck me, please? Please fuck me?"
Like she even has to ask.
I rip the front of her shirt open and buttons fly in every direction. Julia makes a sound of distress, high and tight in the back of her throat, but I'm well and truly lost to the scene she started when she shoved all my shit to the floor.
Her bra is front clasping, thank fuck, and there's a distinct possibility I ruin the clasp anyway as I fumble with large, trembling fingers to free her breasts from their confines.
