Kneeling between Demeter’s thighs, I dip my head and smell the delicious aroma of cunt through her knickers. Grinning, I lean forward to breathe hot air through the fabric; nuzzle and lick my way up her labia and across her clit. I know that the satin of her underwear is only emphasising everything I do, and her wriggles and moans agree. Finally, raising her arse and legs and slipping her knickers off, I then wriggle myself flat on the mattress, stretch my neck forward, and slowly slip my tongue between her folds. Her umami taste is as delicious as I remember.
I lie on the bed and watch as Demeter rolls a condom onto Apollo’s cock, then turns and positions herself on her hands and knees. She dips her head and kisses me as Apollo, behind her, positions himself. He is having trouble lining up right, though, so I sit up and kiss him, then take his cock in one hand and spread her cunt lips with the other. With a smile, I connect the two.
Apollo roars like a lion as he pounds into Demeter, and she yowls like a banshee as orgasms rip through her. My fingers are slip-nip-sliding, sending telegraph signals from her clit, rubbing in tight circles just below Apollo’s hard-working cock. As she winds up to come again, I clench my cunt muscles hard to prevent myself from coming as well. But my finger never stops moving.
Apollo slips two folded towels beneath my arse, then positions himself between my knees. As Demeter fondles and rubs my breasts, he lowers his head and performs gamahuche on me. His tongue knows all my secret spots, and I let me eyes roll back and my muscles tighten and my mouth groan as my orgasm is finally released. When he comes up for air, and for a kiss, I turn his head toward Demeter, so they can kiss first. Watching them mix my juices in their mouths sends me over the edge again, and I growl with pleasure as I gush and pour, then finally trickle off.
The duvet is pulled over us, and we drowse in the afterglow. By virtue of being last to come, I am in the middle, Apollo snuggled to my left and Demeter to my right. My right hand moves lazily over her curvaceous belly, and I bury my nose in Apollo’s hair. We talk, sporadically, about erotic and mundane things. About great fucking, and great plans. About tea, and sleep.
About friends, sex, and love. Delicious moments. Connections.