hole, the feeling so thrashingly hot she almost came, though Dylan held her still, anchoring her to the bed as Mike prepared to enter her. His oiled-up hands roamed her ass and hips, a playful slap making her gasp finally break.
“God, Mike, just fill me. Please,” she begged, Dylan reaching up with his lips and fingers to bite and twist her nipples just as Mike centered the tip of his cock over her ass. Tapping at the gates, the feel of him perched on the precipice between in and not-in made her push back a bit, needing him to do this, wanting to be complete with them both.
Burning, Stretching, Fire. Then – ahhhh...
Like pouring something warm and enormous in her, she felt her body seize then relent, seize and relent, the dance almost too much, her throat yielding hitched gasps as she worked to hold both men. Mike's belly pushed against her lower back and ass, his hands on either side of her and Dylan, his balance perfect. It needed to be; one misstep and what was now a tortured pleasure would just be torture.
Taking Dylan's mouth with hers, she moved so carefully, Mike following her lead, until she felt them all tighten viscerally, as if nerves and pores and skin and need all pinpointed to the perfect climax. It was just standing there, as if summoned, and Mike pressed his stubbled cheek into her backbone and groaned.
“Ready?” Dylan said. It really wasn't a question, his face grimaced with excitement and the barely-held-back release he so obviously wanted. Her body utterly impaled by both men, thoroughly full and ready for explosion, they slowly moved, awkward at first and then finding their rhythm, the power of three bringing them all quickly to the edge, friction and sweat and slick and mouths and everything.
Her ass burned and hummed, buzzed and clenched as Dylan's thick rod worked in tandem with Mike's hands and his mouth on her breasts and hips and then she felt it – that imperceptible roar that came from nowhere and told her she'd soon burst blood vessels around her eyes, scream until her throat ached, and shoot neurons from parts of her that weren't supposed to have them.
Dylan's chest hair was matted with sweat, hers and his and Mike's dripping into a thin sheen as she caught his eyes in the moonlight, his face dark and ready. “God, Laura, I'm – ”
Tip. She just...tipped, her ass and pussy and body tightening, fingers digging into Dylan's shoulders then releasing as she drew long, deep scratches, etching some part of her pleasured agony into him, then releasing and grabbing the sheets, ripping them from the corners of the mattress as she howled. Howled . The sound was like a rutting animal and then she realized it wasn't just her, Mike's long form pushing against her haunches as she thrust harder, splitting her in two and finding a sweet spot deep inside that made her feel like a dwarf star, imploded and eviscerated, a climax of every muscle and of no unturned sensation.
Hot cream poured into her; she could feel the spurt, the rush, the bubbling overflow as her too-tight passages strained to accept what Mike and Dylan's bodies spat out. No one moved too fast or too hard, afraid to cause too much pain, in fear of ruining this sweet, primal moment as they just...howled. Laura's panting came first, her body going limp like a rag doll, collapsing on Dylan as Mike seemed to finish with one thrust and reactivated her clit, gently pushing it against Dylan's groin and giving her a shiver of an orgasm that was like a tiny, ice-cold breeze in a heat wave, perfect for a few seconds but never quite enough.
Mike hissed out his own climax, his hands kneading her back and then tensing, the feel of him deep in her wet and viscous. He, too, rested as if turned to putty, and soon Laura really was in a sandwich. The thought made her chuckle, which pushed Dylan out of her as her laughter engaged her abs.
Dylan joined her, and soon all three were amusing themselves with chuckles of comfort, of coming home, of
“God, Mike, just fill me. Please,” she begged, Dylan reaching up with his lips and fingers to bite and twist her nipples just as Mike centered the tip of his cock over her ass. Tapping at the gates, the feel of him perched on the precipice between in and not-in made her push back a bit, needing him to do this, wanting to be complete with them both.
Burning, Stretching, Fire. Then – ahhhh...
Like pouring something warm and enormous in her, she felt her body seize then relent, seize and relent, the dance almost too much, her throat yielding hitched gasps as she worked to hold both men. Mike's belly pushed against her lower back and ass, his hands on either side of her and Dylan, his balance perfect. It needed to be; one misstep and what was now a tortured pleasure would just be torture.
Taking Dylan's mouth with hers, she moved so carefully, Mike following her lead, until she felt them all tighten viscerally, as if nerves and pores and skin and need all pinpointed to the perfect climax. It was just standing there, as if summoned, and Mike pressed his stubbled cheek into her backbone and groaned.
“Ready?” Dylan said. It really wasn't a question, his face grimaced with excitement and the barely-held-back release he so obviously wanted. Her body utterly impaled by both men, thoroughly full and ready for explosion, they slowly moved, awkward at first and then finding their rhythm, the power of three bringing them all quickly to the edge, friction and sweat and slick and mouths and everything.
Her ass burned and hummed, buzzed and clenched as Dylan's thick rod worked in tandem with Mike's hands and his mouth on her breasts and hips and then she felt it – that imperceptible roar that came from nowhere and told her she'd soon burst blood vessels around her eyes, scream until her throat ached, and shoot neurons from parts of her that weren't supposed to have them.
Dylan's chest hair was matted with sweat, hers and his and Mike's dripping into a thin sheen as she caught his eyes in the moonlight, his face dark and ready. “God, Laura, I'm – ”
Tip. She just...tipped, her ass and pussy and body tightening, fingers digging into Dylan's shoulders then releasing as she drew long, deep scratches, etching some part of her pleasured agony into him, then releasing and grabbing the sheets, ripping them from the corners of the mattress as she howled. Howled . The sound was like a rutting animal and then she realized it wasn't just her, Mike's long form pushing against her haunches as she thrust harder, splitting her in two and finding a sweet spot deep inside that made her feel like a dwarf star, imploded and eviscerated, a climax of every muscle and of no unturned sensation.
Hot cream poured into her; she could feel the spurt, the rush, the bubbling overflow as her too-tight passages strained to accept what Mike and Dylan's bodies spat out. No one moved too fast or too hard, afraid to cause too much pain, in fear of ruining this sweet, primal moment as they just...howled. Laura's panting came first, her body going limp like a rag doll, collapsing on Dylan as Mike seemed to finish with one thrust and reactivated her clit, gently pushing it against Dylan's groin and giving her a shiver of an orgasm that was like a tiny, ice-cold breeze in a heat wave, perfect for a few seconds but never quite enough.
Mike hissed out his own climax, his hands kneading her back and then tensing, the feel of him deep in her wet and viscous. He, too, rested as if turned to putty, and soon Laura really was in a sandwich. The thought made her chuckle, which pushed Dylan out of her as her laughter engaged her abs.
Dylan joined her, and soon all three were amusing themselves with chuckles of comfort, of coming home, of
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