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Her soft leg circles my hips, while the other slides under me, and she brings her crotch to mine. I eagerly start moving, my clit rubbing hers, first, then my entire pussy. She lies back, angling herself to grind me.
Her husband climbs her and brings his cock between our two drenched pussies. All three of us whine, hips swaying fast, taking our own pleasures. Then Rhys’s cock is inside her, one of her legs over his shoulders. I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself, afraid to intrude, but he taps my thigh and to get my attention.
“Up. I want to eat that tight cunt of yours.”
I’ve never moved faster.
I get up on the sofa and move to stand in front of him. I’m not sure what to do, but he’s quick to shows me, guiding my hips so I’m standing with my back to him. He shoves his head between my thighs. I grunt and bend over. Only then do I realize I’m right over Violet. I tentatively reach for what I can touch: her heavy bouncing breasts, moving every time he drives into her.
She lifts herself up to bring her mouth to mine again, kissing me as her husband does the same to my pussy’s lips.
Violet smells like sunshine, and tastes like it too. She guides the kisses, knowing exactly what to do, and teaching me patiently, her tongue teasing, her lips soft, then pressing hard, her teeth scraping me.
And then she’s arching back on the sofa, groaning. Rhys is thrusting so fast, so hard, her head hits the armrest with the blowback.
He’s hate-fucking her, and she loves every second of it.
I try not to envy her.
He groans over my cunt, bringing his fingers to my clit to bring me close again.
I see it the moment she loses it, wordlessly, her entire body tensing, eyes closing, and her fists clenching. Then she lets go, a profoundly satisfied sigh escaping her.
Oh, yeah, I’m fucking jealous she gets this every day.
A harsh slap hits my buttock, resounding through the room; my music has stopped. I didn’t notice it.
“Down,” Rhys grunts demandingly.
He made both of us come—hell, he almost brought me to the edge a second time—but he hasn’t found his release yet. That man has stamina.
I lower myself back on the sofa as dictated, unsure how to proceed, but he drags me into position again: on my hands and knees this time, right over Violet. And he drives in in one thrust.
“This is gonna be fast,” he warns, reaching around me to pinch my clit.
My body leans forward, awake, alert.
A little bit of pain and I’m more aroused than I have been the entire night.
He laughs. “Harder?”
“Please.” I’m not even ashamed to beg.
Rhys squeezes my clit more, and pulls it too, as he drives back inside me.
“Pinch her nipples, flower,” he grunts at his wife.
Vi’s still lost in her post-orgasmic glow, but like me, she’s not one to dismiss orders—when she’s naked at least. She reaches for my tits and squeezes both. My back rounds up, my pussy clasping around Rhys’s huge cock.
I mewl, visceral sounds more animal than human ripped out of my throat, and he never stops railing me, even when it’s so much I’m crawling forward to lower the intensity. He only follows me, and keeps ripping my insides.
“Stop! Please, enough!”
Headphones. One simple word, and it’s over. That’s all I have to say. I know he’ll stop, even though he’s so, so close.
Rhys slams into me harder, putting all his weight into it, fingers biting into my skin.
“So fucking wet,” he growls. “So tight. I’m almost there. You fucking come first, you hear?”
