The Dreamatorium

A tempting tango to join. The dance of her tongue on his cock, he counters with a softly spoken fuck, she dips and slides, he pushes past soft needy lips. Vi could stare all night.

She could if they weren't both gunning for her involvement.
She'd be happy in the corner.
Just watching.
Okay, not happy.
Thighs spread, skirt around her hips, fingers sliding over skin, bitten back whimpers filled with longing to meld with other moans.
Oh yes.

Eye contact is made and suddenly she's very aware of him and how he's watching her fingers, her spread thighs, her own little lusty noises. Turning the same color as her hair, her legs close and she stands.

She knows she lost.

The remaining piece of fabric from her foray into the night hits the ground, though her heels remain, clicking over the wood floor to their side. Besides the soft groans, moans and randomly thrown fucks, he watched her movement closely, or at least that's how she felt.

Before she gave in to either of them entirely, there was something that she had to do. Kneeling down behind the hardworking and determined little Brit, she pressed her lips to an already very wet pussy. Tongue dipping to fully taste the other woman, wetness spreading over lips. She was soon covered with the other woman, delighting in the taste, but this was only a taste.

Vi moves back and stands, two steps bring her to his side, a small wet smile, before bending at the waist to kiss and share. He tasted of liquor, of wet needy kisses, and now, of the tenacious brunette knelt before him.

Sharing is caring, afterall.
 
Words are heard over her head but she doesn't falter, all they do is encourage. Compliments of a kind. He's moving, so is she, but her rhythm holds steady. Just.

Deep and slow, over and over again.

New sounds, soft sounds, drift over. Making her smile around him.

A whimper as tongue and lips press between her thighs, announcing the arrival of Vivi, of her participation in things. Hips twitch back towards the mouth against her sex, rocking for the all too brief moments that the connection is there.

She watches, lips stretched tight around him, as Vivi leant down to kiss him. Feeling a twinge of pride that together they'd enticed her over - no matter how easy that might have been in reality - along with another of frustration. She wanted to kiss them both too. But that, as with everything else, was part of the game. Part of the dance.

They all had their parts, their roles, their places.

Another lick. Another swirl of tongue around sensitive head, the tip dipping into that little indentation to treat herself to the faint taste, those few precious drops, she hoped would be there.

She knew her place. And she loved it.
 
His eyes are narrow, but his gaze is focused as he watches her. Sliding down her body, watching her fingers dance and tease. Back up to her face to see the pleasure wrought there. And through it all, the one kneeling between his thighs, so expertly teasing his cock, draws low groans and deep, shuddering sighs from him.

A grin, victorious, triumphant, full of wicked lust, shapes his lips when she stands, and the last of her clothing is lost as well.

Were he to appear overdressed before, the fact that he is not simply the only one wearing clothes in the room, but that he is still wearing all of his clothes would make him appear much more so now. But still, it is an entirely arousing state. And the sight of them, one giving in to her desires, the other knelt before him and feeding his, might just be enough to drive some men insane.

What a way to go.

Another mouth joins to another sex, and even were he not able to see the descent of the red haired one, the whimper that slips out from the lips around his cock would be enough to tell him what was happening.

She stood again, and he could see her lips, her chin, her smile glistening in the light of the room. The shine of arousal.

His eyes were focused on her as she approached, falling closed only when her mouth joined to his, and he groaned into the shared kiss. The sound was drawn as much from the swirling and teasing tongue as it was from the taste he was given. Another log thrown on the fire of his need. Sparks sent up the chimney. Flames licking higher.

The glass, only mostly empty, was tossed aside, shattering not far from where the other had broken. Perhaps they'd buy her a new set later. Perhaps he'd manage to give a fuck about a glass later. No time soon.

The cane was pushed into the chair between his leg and the armrest, and his hands now free, he reached out. Driven by need, fueled by adrenaline and a heart that seemed to pound impossibly hard in his chest - could she feel him throb against her tongue, he wondered - he pulled up onto the chair with him.

Feet moved to each armrest, his hands on the globes of her backside, feeling the heat of the welts under his palms, he pulled her to him.

A new and familiar taste mingled with that he'd just been given, and again the thought occurred to him.

Fucking intoxicating.

He was a dehydrated man in the desert, and the pussy before him was an oasis. He drank deeply, unreservedly, attack the only fitting word for the way his tongue met her.

Mouth on sex. Mouth on sex. He swam deeper in the lust that threatened to drown them all.

Air was so overrated.
 
Thank god for walls.

Just as she was standing next to him, swirling her tongue over his, sharing the taste of the beautiful kneeling girl before them both, did she find herself trailing a broken glass, stepping up onto the chair, surrendering herself to the hungry lusty god himself.

This wasn't a dance. It was a fucking opera.

Yes. Walls. Something to cling to while her own voice joined theirs, and rang above it. Something, anything that kept her upright when her knees wanted to give out, wanted to fall down and lay on the floor and let them both use her in new and imaginative ways.

Her fingers sunk into his hair and she held him tight against her, knowing how wet she was, how wet she'd be, how every moan from her lips was echoed by the wetness that he slurped at.

Oh fuck.

Her legs shook under his hands, because of that tongue that dragged and teased, flicked and licked at her clit.

She whimpered, begged, cajoled and pleaded with him to stop, to let her go, to let her down, to stop, for it to be harder, softer....
And then she forgot her words, dripping only whimpers and moans, and wetness.

Oh fuck.

Why did she play with herself earlier? Why did she let him hit her? Why? It made her way more ready than she wanted to be.

And then it was over. With a soft intake of air.
She came all over his lips, screaming his name. Screaming for Brit, begging for a release that she knew he wouldn't give unless she freed herself from him.

She did. Wresting her hips away and sliding off the chair.
Or maybe she stepped off.
But her legs weren't working very well.

Her breath. She needed her breath.
It was without thought that she moved next.
Somebody needed to be fucking someone else.
It was past time.

Hands sinking into brown hair, and pulling her free of a hard cock, his look of surprise only to be replaced with humor when the woman was turned. Vi shared a kiss with Brit as she pushed her down onto his lap. They tasted of each other, a heady mixture that almost derailed her.

Breaking the kiss, Brit is moved and helped to spread her legs over the chair arms. Placing his cock where it so desperately wanted to be. One move of his hips and it was over. A shared whimper. From one? Three? Who knew. But it was fucking gorgeous to watch them move together.

At another time she might have undressed him, but figured the ruination of another pair of pants at her behest was worth it. He'd take it out of her later.
In another moment, Vi replaced Brit on her knees.

Only this time, her tongue worked over the both of them.
Sweet, hard, soft, penetrating wetness all over her tongue and lips.
Fucking intoxicating, indeed
 
More than once she nearly choked herself, so desperate to watch what was happening above her head, not to miss a moment of him driving Vi to that peak that would almost ruin her before it rewarded her. Mouth watering almost as much as her own pussy as she watched. In her mind, feeling every pass of his tongue over the lips before his face against her own.

She took him into her throat time and again, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. But always deep.

Suddenly everything changed. She was moved, pulled up, pushed back, repositioned. A kiss, hungry and feral and delicious. Not to mention far too short.

There was a moment's pause and then she felt him. That moment of delicious discomfort as he pushed deep inside her needy sex. Lips formed an 'o' of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Tightness wrapped impossibly close around him.

She rolled her hips...then again...and again...each time taking him deep inside. Bouncing deliriously in his lap.

Then Vi moved down between her thighs and everything exploded around her.
Whimpering shrieks and cries. Pleas mingled with expletives mingled with sounds.

She wasn't her, not any more. She was this thing that they'd turned her into. Again. A shaking, trembling mass of need and lust. Hell, she barely knew her own name at that point.

One hand tangled down into the red waves between her legs, the other ran through her own dark hair, pushing it back from flushed features.

"Oh...oh fuck..."

A slight smile before she completely lost her mind.

"Don't...don't think I didn't...didn't hear the other glass break...God...fuck me...God knows how you're...you're going to make it up to me for breaking two if...if this is what I get for one...!"
 
She absolutely coated him. Lips, tongue, chin, trails down his neck. His taste filled his mouth, her scent filled his nostrils, her sound filled his ears, his world became her need, her body, her pussy he had no intention of pulling his mouth from until he'd torn from her what he wanted.

Only the mouth still working his length kept him tethered to anything but the whimpering, begging, writhing mess caught between his hands and his lips. One hand left her, returned in a quick, firm smack against skin already abused.

He wants.

She gets no mercy until it is given up.

As her orgasm hits her, washes over her, his tongue laps, his lips press, and he drinks of her.

And then doesn't stop. He knows he can keep her going, know he can make a mess of her, and the beast of his need is uncaged.

He. Fucking. Wants.

She pulls herself from him, and he lets her go, breathing deeply of air that feels cool compared to the heat of her. He is hard, so hard, velvet steel between soft, stretched lips.

Just as suddenly as one is gone from him, the other is as well. His cock rises lewdly from opened trousers, his chest rises and falls quickly, his eyes felt wide as he watched them.

And then Brit is in his lap, moving against him, Vi moving her, adjusting her...

"Oh... fuck."

She's tight, hot, wet, extraordinary. He sits back in the chair, watching her hips roll, watching her body move on him.

"Yes."

A low groan.

"Fuck me."

The tongue catches him by surprise, his focus having been entirely shifted from one to the other and causing him to lose track of where Vi had gone. But, fuck, there she is.

His hands lift, reach out, fingers in the hair of the one atop him, pulling so she leans back against him.

He releases her hair, one hand across her throat, a firm grip. The other hand moves to a full, heavy breast, fingers teasing the nipple. He holds her against him, back to his chest, hips to his hips, his cock nestled fully within her and held there. His lips are near her ear, allowing him to whisper.

"Fuck your glasses. Do you feel her tongue on your cunt? Tell her how good it feels."

His fingers pinched, rolled the peak of her nipple tightly.

"Tell her how you love being filled with my cock while she licks you."

Nipple released, his grip replaced with a smack against her breast.

"Show us what a needy little whore you are."
 
He fucks her.
She bounces up and down on his cock.
Vi tastes them both.

She could, if she wished, stay in one place and have them slide over her tongue, without any effort from her, but that's not how she works, or wants to work. Moving up to play with an exposed and hard clit, sliding lower to clean her off of him. Still lower to take sensitive sacs into her mouth, rolling them around her tongue while they pause before movement releases them from her lips.

Nails slide over exposed thighs, and she moans softly between long drags of her tongue. Plying them both higher and loving the reactions, the soft fucks, the louder and more demanding fucks, his words which are in the tone that kills her, those breathless moans from Brit.

It's so fucking fantastic.
For once, Vi doesn't fight it, just happily laps at her fucking lovers and keeps her mouth shut...well...open.
 
Damn him and his hands. Brit does wonder if she gave him a map, at some point. Something telling him all those weak points, all those places to 'push'.

He pulls her hair, her hips twitch harder.
His hand lands on her throat and her insides grip him that much tighter.

He plays her all too easily.

"Fuck your glasses. Do you feel her tongue on your cunt? Tell her how good it feels."

Words are not within her capabilities in that moment.

"Tell her how you love being filled with my cock while she licks you."

A howl at the slap accompanied by a harsher thrust down onto him.

"Show us what a needy little whore you are."

"I do. I love all of it and you...you know it...you both do..."

A growl as her fingers tighten in Vi's hair, pulling her closer.

"I don't just love it, I need it. And that's what makes it all so...so...so godamned, unexplainably fantastic..."

All the while she impales herself onto him.

"Please...please just...just don't stop...please..."

The pleas drip from her lips without pause, as Vi's talented tongue pushes her closer and closer...

"Please, oh fuck...please..."

On their own they are forces to be reckoned with. Like all together too tempting flames dancing and enticing moths to get that fraction too close.

Together they are downright bloody dangerous.

And she can't help but throw herself headlong into the madness.
 
The mouth on the heavy sacs hanging below where they are joined draws a groan from his lips, an arch up against the one in his lap, and interruption to the words that stream from him.

It doesn't last long.

"I know you love it. I can feel you love it. So fucking wet..."

His hand tightens on her throat, momentarily sealing off her air, fingers claiming her nipple again, twisting it roughly in his grip.

"Beg her to make you cum, my needy little slut. Beg her to make you cum all over my cock."

The fingers on her throat loosen, allowing her to breath again, but he doesn't release her entirely, keeping her body back against his, keeping his lips near her ear. Letting him spill forth every dirty, depraved thought that flows through his mind.

"Beg to be used, little toy."
 
The moaning and swearing above her only gets louder.
Music change.
This is the part where it swells louder. Fuller. Like the cock under her tongue or the clit that grows with each drag of her tongue.

"Beg her to make you cum, my needy little slut. Beg her to make you cum all over my cock."

His words, harsh and loud ring loudly in her ears and her focus is then centered on the clit and full pussy. Matching each thrust with an assault from her tongue, sucking on it as she could. Enjoying all of her wetness that covered sweet sucking cheeks.

"Beg to be used, little toy."

She didn't stop eating the pussy in front of her, waiting for those delicious words to be dropped from ruby lips, and poured forth onto a waiting, willing and wanting tongue.
 
"I know you love it. I can feel you love it. So fucking wet..."

The quandry of remembering to breathe is removed as he tightens his hold on her throat. The panic barely bubbles inside her as the feel of delicious pain shooting through her nipple blocks out almost everything else.

"Beg her to make you cum, my needy little slut. Beg her to make you cum all over my cock."

A nod. A silent, desperate, agreement leaves her lips.

"Beg to be used, little toy."

"Please, oh please don't stop...please don't stop licking that needy little pussy, that sopping wet cunt that is so desperate, so desperate to cum..."

A whine, then another, louder. Heavy, rapid, breaths peppered with wanton sounds.

"Oh fuck...please...please I'm close, so close...please..."

Her voice trembles, so close to almost crying the need is so great. The pounding of his cock, the suckling of her mouth. All she is aware of is the three of them. Together they are the sides of some bizarre and intoxicating triangle of lust, driven by needs she doesn't entirely understand but can't begin to deny.

"Please anything...I'll do all the things, let you do everything...your toy just wants, needs, to be played with...just please...please make me, let me, cum for you..."
 
"That's what I want to hear from you..."

He was moving under her, steady but not fast, hard but holding her still as he did. His breathing was heavy, a bit ragged in her ear, her mouth, her pussy, and now that tongue that roamed where their bodies joined having more than a little effect on him as well.

But he was not nearly done.

"Cum for me, little toy. All over me. All over her tongue."

Lids fell, eyes closed, and his mouth moved to her shoulder, teeth against her skin. His hand remained on her throat still, holding her back against him, keeping her close and as unmoving as possible. His other fell away from her though, fingers sinking into the red hair between their thighs, curling into a grip and pulling the mouth on her tighter.

No more words. No more tone. No more commands from her, dirty words spilled forth between groans.

Whether she was ready to give it up or not, he would tear the climax from her body by force if he had to. There was no stopping, no slowing, no mercy, until he had what he wanted from her.
 
Her eyes raked over the two of them with hunger. So. fucking. hot. Every ounce of her being felt infused with both of them. Her tongue danced along with their frenzy. His words burned along her spine and they weren't even intended for her. Brit's whimpers danced over exposed skin and left yearning in their wake.

His intentions were clear.
And he'd take until he got it.
From both of them.
Not that either of them would complain.

A hand entered the fray, this one low to cup, hold and tug at his balls. Her tongue far too busy on a very sensitive clit to be bother with exploration elsewhere.

He may be gunning for an explosive orgasm from Brit, but Vi had other plans. If one was going to cum, then they both should. She'd just have to make the option too good to resist.

Her tongue pressed forward, her hand moved and swirled and she whimpered and moaned for them both, the vibrations moving along already sensitive flesh.

She almost hoped they would hold off.
Almost.
But not quite.
 
"That's what I want to hear from you...Cum for me, little toy. All over me. All over her tongue."

The words would have been enough.
His hold on her throat would have been enough.
The sheer power of the steady thrusts into her all too willing body would have been enough.
Her mouth would have been more than enough.

In other circumstances any of those would have pushed her over the edge long before now. It was as if there were so many triggers, so many delicious sensations and dangerous desires in the air that the signals to her brain were smothered.

In the end it was the bite that did it. That nipping of teeth against flesh sending a flare tearing up and down her spine simultaneously, sparking lightning in her brain and fanning the fire in her sex, that sent her over into oblivion.

Sounds of lust echoed off of the walls around them, body spasming against his hold, jerking against her talented mouth, grinding lewdly down onto him.
But it didn't stop...his hips, her lips...they kept pushing...pushing, pushing, pushing...keeping her there, keeping her falling...

Soon she was begging again, but these couldn't have been more different.

"Oh...oh please...please stop...I....fuck, I can't breathe...I..."

One hand rose to hold her forehead then push damp dark waves back from her face, the other dropped onto his hand on the firey mane between her thighs. Her body twitching far beyond her control as wave after wave of pleasure continued to batter her vulnerable body. Breathing was nigh on impossible.

"I can't...please...I don't...fuck, fuck, fuck...oh please...please stop..."

She had to try, before she slipped into orgasm induced darkness, she had to try and make them stop. She knew if they did it wouldn't be because she'd begged, it would be because that was what they wanted. And more than likely, because they now wanted something else.

Her mind nearly melted just considering it.
 
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A hand was on him suddenly, massaging and teasing, and weakening his resolve to hold out. The body his lap, writhing, shaking, the sounds that poured from her, all worked as a fine distraction, and he knew he wouldn't erupt just yet. But fuck, did these two push him close.

He kept moving under her, kept his grip on the red hair in front of them so the mouth against her remained, and he pushed through the pleas, the begs to stop. Pushing, pushing. Enough was never enough. Finished was never quite finished. An orgasm was not the end.

And then, at last, he relented. The hand in Vi's hair released, and his arm lifted to wrap around the quaking body in his lap. His teeth left her shoulder, half moon marks left in her skin. Together with the hand on her throat, he pulled her as he leaned back, lifting her suddenly and fully off of him and away from the skilled mouth that had brought her to this state.

For a moment, he simply held her tight against him as he leaned back in the chair, both of them breathing heavily. His cock stood up wetly between her thighs, throbbing and hard and coated in her.

And then, a whisper.

"Go show her how thankful you are. Show her our little toy can give back what she gets."
 
The crescendo.
Nonsensical begging words fall from her lips like rain onto a parched and needy earth.

That moment when the orchestra swells, and fills your being with pure sound.
Her clit beneath a ravaging tongue gets no quarter, and though she begs for release would she even want it?

You can feel it in every cell of your body
Vi whimpers softly, then moans, lapping every drop that coats her tongue and lips, her entire frame wracked with shivers.

Nerves dance and you can feel how in sync every single piece is.
Breathless, how the moans, whimpers, begging words fill Vi and create a new and wanton lust in her... how watching them fuck makes her want to be filled..tasted and writhing beneath them both.

She's freed. A glance up.
A sudden quiet, the conductor waits, a pause is always part of the music. Even if the audience hears nothing.

"Go show her how thankful you are. Show her our little toy can give back what she gets."

Downbeat. Breath. Blow
Vi does.
In that minute before movement and exchange where she finds herself on the ground beneath another woman, her lips wrap around hardness and licks him clean.

Music change
Damn they taste good.
 
"Go show her how thankful you are. Show her our little toy can give back what she gets."

It was a good job the floor was close otherwise she could well have injured herself when she slithered down from his lap towards it. She was barely in control of her limbs as she crawled towards Vi. Her mind however, that she was rapidly regaining control over and it was focused on one, single, solitary thing.

Giving back.

Vi was glorious. There were not really words to describe how or why, there was just that indescribable element, indescribable and inescapable. Every look drawing her closer, every sigh a new siren song she couldn't fight. Being told to go to her was hardly a difficult command to follow.

Lips found a neck, kissing and tasting while hands drew down to chest. Stroking and squeezing, circling stiffening peaks before slipping down over stomach and heading ever lower.

Nibbles and licks took her mouth to Vi's chest, sighing with no attempt at hiding the enjoyment as nipple slipped between parted lips to be flicked by her tongue. Mouth suckling as fingers finally found their destination.

Wet. So wet. A smile that she might have had some small part in causing it.

Fingers parted and stroked, toying around the source of the incredible heat. Almost pushing inside, desperate to do so. Hips moving, almost inviting her to do it.

There was another nipple to taste first. A soft growl as teeth tormented the other peak, at the same time fingers rising slightly between legs to circle that tiny, powerful, bundle of nerves.
Round...and round...and round...

Self control was running out, desire was rising sharply and it's voice was loud. Too loud to ignore.

One movement down her body, a slight alignment and her mouth pressed against velvet softness. Finger at last pushing inside, tight and hot, slipping back and forth. Another pushing inside to curl alongside the other, seeking out those places deep inside. Lips and tongue focused on her clit, sucking and licking. Her own breathing hard and mingling with the sounds trickling down to her from higher up the redhead's devasting body.

Slick sounds, wet sounds, grunts and groans. One glorious song and it was all for her, all for Vi.
Brit gave her everything she had.
 
There is something so glorious about fucking a woman. Their softness, wetness, the noises they make, boobs. Fucking amazing. Vi loved it all. She especially was a fan of the creature that suddenly found her way into her arms.

She moved so quickly from her lips, to her chest, to her pussy that Vi barely had a moment to breathe. Or at least that's what she told herself. If there was anything to grab on the ground, fingers would have been sunk into it, while she hung on and moaned for dear fucking life.

Vi wasn't done, with her. With their toy, their favorite toy, her favorite toy. Fingers fastened into brunette tresses and she was pulled away from licking her clit, which of course left Vi with her own grumbling moans to deal with. But they were short lived.

Vi crawled down closer between his legs, his appraisal of this moment unnecessary. She wasn't going to touch him. But this other one was a different story.

Placing her knee between Brit's and taking every once of control to take over and fuck her, her lips met the other woman's letting her taste him, them, her, and the fucking she had just been given as it was smeared over Vi's lips. Brit's hand was directed towards a very wet, needy cunt, which when finally touched once more sent whimpers of pleasure against those soft seeking lips.

This is how you fucked a girl, needy and wet fingers, rolling hips, dipping heads towards breasts and nipples, only to free them for deep breathless kisses, rolling on the floor, legs locked around each other.

Fucking divine.
And Brit was a goddess.
 
Timing.

A kiss snatched between whimpers.

Timing.

A bite given between moans.

Timing.

A thrust of hand just as hips rolled just right.

Arms and legs, breasts and mouths, entwined and blending. There was an art to the chaos, to the hunger and need that seemed to consume them both as they appeared desperate to consume one another.

Vi was strong but oh so stunning, Vi was in control but there was a care in her touch, Brit was lost long before her back hit the floor.

Her arm twitched and jerked between them, delivering deep thrusts of fingers inside clutching tightness. Revelling in each and every sound that dripped from ruby lips. Brit's own paler and pinker pair punctuating, providing a subtle accompaniment to Vi's enchanting solo.

Timing.

A whisper just as palm grinds against clit. "You're so fucking amazing..."

Timing.

Teeth latching onto earlobe to allow her own groan to pour into the shell of her ear.

Timing.

Catching his eye over her shoulder just as a particularly loud whimper leaves one of them. Maybe both of them.

One might have been a toy but both were playing the beautiful game.
 
He had barely moved since they left him, eyes bright with interest and focus, lips parted as if he might be able to steal a taste of what they shared.

He was still urgently, exceptionally, wickedly hard, and the sights and sounds only a few feet from where he sat were doing everything they could to make sure that didn't change.

A grin moved across his lips as his eyes met Brit's, a slow and silent not for the moment he held her gaze. Silent encouragement. Silent praise.

Fuck, they were sexy.

Fuck, it was hot in here.
 
Teeny, tiny, breathless, whimpers evolve into loud, needy, begging, full moans that quiver and gasp before dying against pressed and sensitive lips. She is divine, and in this moment it's hard to tell where one woman begins and the other ends. They are one creature of need, lust and touch.

Thighs clench, while hips roll, fingers dip and dance and it doesn't take long for either of them. Perhaps it was the fucking or the fighting or the welts that cover the redhead. Perhaps it was the bites or nails down a soft back, leaving red trails in their wake. Perhaps it was all of this, but it only took a moment for them to hit a peak together.

For a breathless redhead to cry out her release against the breast of the other, for her to shake and whimper, for her to gush over seeking fingers. For her to beg for a release, to stop, to be done, for her to catch the smirk on his face, for even that to not stop those torturous fingers.

She kindly tells oxygen to fuck off as she pulls the other's lips to her own, drinking in the brunette's scent, her taste, the taste of the both of them. Their tongues fight and dance, until she can take it no more, the air in her lungs burning and she flings herself back and to the floor, breasts heaving with each and every ragged intake of air.

"Holy...fuck."

Yes, somewhere in her brain she noted a hard cock nearby. And even more a desire to share that with Brit. Somewhere. For the moment her sole thought centered on stopping her thighs from quivering, and finding the oxygen with which to move.

"Oh fuck."

And maybe, just maybe she'd find her vocabulary again.
 
A red tongue darted out, licking lips that had grown dry. His breathing was slow, steady, but there was an edge to it. He lusted.

Creak.

It was almost hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Fingers teasing, fucking, mouths exploring. Goddamn.

Groan.

Blue eyes roamed, over full breasts, messed hair, round hips, marked and flushed skin. Moving, constantly moving, drinking in everything he possibly could.

Crack.

He saw them hit, one orgasm followed by another, bodies shuddering, uninhibited sounds of pleasure flowing to his ears, straight down his spine, exploding electricity in his core.

Break.

The dam that held back his resistance ended with those, one perhaps enough to resist, but the combination of them impossible, and for the first time since he'd pulled Brit off his cock, he moved. Standing out of the chair, he crossed the short distance between he and them, standing in the small space that had been created when Vi rolled over onto her back.

His gaze shifted from one, to the other, then back, drinking in spent bodies, heaving chests, the thin sheen of sweat covering them.

Knees bent, and he reached out, fingers sinking into disheveled red hair.

"You two have had your fun."

Head turned, he reached out his other hand, fingers in darker hair.

"Time to come back."

Both hands gripped, he straightened up, and then retreated back the way he'd come, step after step moving him backwards, pulling each of them with him, until his legs met the chair, and he fell back into it again.
 
Bright lights and bone melting heat, the world exploded around them and for a few seconds Brit truly didn't know if she was coming or going.

Breathing, it seemed, was optional for now. Body lost in the tsunami that was submerging her, crashing into her and drowning her in pleasure. Fingers tightened against flesh, lips and teeth latched tighter onto whatever they could get hold of...all just to hold on, to stop her simply shaking apart.

Then they fell away from each other. Left to writhe and recover on the floor. Heart pounding incessantly in her ears, body unable to stop shaking. At least for the time being.

Brit was vaguely aware of his approach, somewhere in the haze she thought she'd heard footsteps but at that precise moment she couldn't have cared less.
She watched through half lidded eyes as his hand reached down to tangle in Vi's mane.

"You two have had your fun."

His fingers fell into her hair now, a soft whimper came from her lips.

"Time to come back."

A tug and she followed, crawling. Hips and rear bobbing and swaying from side to side as he pulled them back towards the chair, towards him.

The pair of them, to an onlooker, were ruined. Naked, flushed, marked and barely conscious - a stark contrast to him. Ruffled but otherwise fully dressed, and far more lucid than either of them. But an onlooker would be mistaken in thinking things were finished.
No matter how lost in the fog of climax they were, they knew there were still matters to attend to, still things to be done. Desires to be dealt with - hungers satisfied and thirsts quenched.

Brit licked her lips as they came to rest between his spread legs. Her hip and side nestled along side Vi's. The pair waiting, kneeling.

In spite of the feast so far enjoyed...she was still hungry.
 
Talking. A tone. His tone. He was talking. Something about fun being had. A more lucid Vi would have laughed at him. Would have laughed, slipped from his grip and sauntered far enough away that he would have to chase.

A more lucid and capable Vi, she was not.
"Time to come back."

Those same strong fingers that had tortured her many times before, those owners of sweet caresses and stinging slaps now commanded her presence again. She groaned to be led away by her hair, the curls a mess, she was sure that the tresses were huge by now, covering her face and shoulders, making it easy for her to be dragged over the cold floor.

Oh. It was cold.
Except for the very heated and mewling woman next to her.
Already drooling from both ends at the prospect of being covered in him.
Vi tried to resist the same wantonness but was relatively sure she failed when his hands left her hair and her hands were already sliding up smooth pants, feeling his thighs tense under her touch.

She could ask.
She should ask.
It's what any good girl would do. Forming the pleading words on the tip of her tongue, her voice small and needy, asking before she touched.
Too bad she wasn't in any mood to be good.
Or ask.
Or do anything that would form any other sound from his lips that didn't consist of four letters exhaled explicitly in surrender to their lips.

Her only plan at this moment was to strategize an arrangement with her partner in crime. Which mostly consisted of one sentence, which was whispered.

"Brit you go high, I'll go low and then switch."

She felt the woman move at the same time she did, only Vi lowered her lips to those most sensitive of male parts, pulling one ball past sensitive lips and then the other. Swirling her tongue, lightly licking and veritably sure that her girl did the same thing next to her.

See? Vi could be good when she wanted.
 
Lips parted, head lowered.

A growl, a groan and his taste and her own flooded her mouth. Hand rested on cloth covered thigh, fingers massaging as tongue licked and stroked around and around.

Delicious.

They both were. Delicious and so goddamned irresistible.

She could hear Vi at work, the slurps and swallows rising into her ear. Mingling with the breaths and lower, more bass, tones dripping down from above. Somewhere in there were her own happy little noises.

Even when she lowered as far as she could without risking chinning Vi, head brushing the back of her throat, she couldn't have been more content.

Up and down, savouring and relishing every drop, every trace upon him.

She could do this, here with them, all day.
Something about the tenseness beneath her hand told her she might not get anywhere near that long.

Cheeks drawn in, pressure upon him increases.
Better make the most of it then.
 
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