Chapter 369: The Offering 4

The skin was hotter than the room. Under the taste of salt there was something else, Lia’s mouth or Olivia’s, she could not separate them, and the thought of that sent heat down her stomach.

Her nipples had stuck to the pink weave. Every breath tugged at them. The white panties underneath were soaked past saving. She could feel the cool of the air on the damp when she shifted her knees.

She took the head into her mouth.

Half of it fit. Her lips stretched wide and her eyes watered, and her tongue did not know where to go. She pulled back too fast and coughed. Spit ran down her chin and onto the pink mesh over her chest.

"Easy," Olivia said. Her hand settled on Sophia’s shoulder. "You don’t have to take all of it. Just what you can manage."

"I know."

"You don’t have to prove anything to anyone."

"I’m not proving anything."

She was. She wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist, bent again, and this time went slower.

What she could do was listen.

It was the one thing she had always been good at, and nobody here knew how good.

The room was full of sound. Lia’s heartbeat, thick and quick under the black mesh.

Olivia’s breath, still ragged from the work she had done. The clock in the next room marking the hour.

And under all of it a steady, slower pulse that came from the man on the bed.

It was his. It ran lower than the others, and when her tongue moved across the underside it skipped.

She tried it again. It skipped.

Six, seven, eight. She stopped counting aloud and started counting him.

She found the rhythm in two minutes. A slow pull when his pulse dropped, a tighter press of her lips when it rose.

Her hand closed around what her mouth could not reach and followed the same beat. She felt him swell against her tongue.

The head pressed the roof of her mouth and stayed there for a second longer than she meant it to.

Her eyes watered again, but she did not pull back this time.

"Sophia," Lor said, and his voice had gone rough. "How do you know to do that?"

She froze with him in her mouth. She let him go. A string of spit stretched from her lip to the head and broke. It landed on her chin.

"Your pulse," she said. "I can feel it in your thigh. It changes when I do certain things."

He looked at her for half a second longer than the answer deserved. Then he nodded, and the moment passed.

"Weirdo," Lia said.

Sophia ignored her. Another string of spit hung from her lip to the head.

She looked at it for a moment, then leaned in and licked it away. It was not graceful. She had stopped caring whether it was.

"You’re good at this," Lia said, quieter this time. "Better than I expected."

"Shut up."

Sophia took him again.

Deeper this time. Her lips reached the ridge, then past it, and she held there with her throat working, listening to the pulse that had started to run faster than the clock in the next room.

Her small breasts rose and fell against the pink mesh. The white bra underneath did nothing to hide how hard her nipples were.

She could feel Olivia watching her mouth and Lia watching both of them.

The pink stocking between her thighs was wet enough now that it clung to her skin every time she moved.

Olivia put a hand on Sophia’s shoulder. "Okay, stop," she said. "We’re getting in each other’s way. None of us can settle if we keep switching like this."

Sophia came off him with a wet breath.

Lor, who had been about thirty seconds from losing the argument with himself, made a noise he would deny later.

His cock twitched against the air. A fresh bead of fluid gathered at the slit and ran down the underside.

"Let’s take turns," Olivia went on. "Thirty seconds each. Head, then shaft, then lower, then we switch. That way nobody has to think about when to stop."

"We’re not timing it," Lia said. "That defeats the whole point."

"We are timing it. Otherwise we’ll keep interrupting each other and the light may not be satisfied with the one who doesn’t participate much."

"I’ll count," Sophia said quietly. Her voice was still rough from having him in her mouth. She wiped her chin with the back of her hand.

The other two looked at her.

"Fine, let’s start"

"One. Two. Three."

It worked for about a few seconds, but then everyone pounced, .

Lor had thought he understood what three mouths would feel like.

He had understood the number. He had not understood the differences.

Olivia on the head, slow and precise, her tongue flat and her lips tight, a hand on the base to keep him in place while she worked the ridge in small circles.

Lia along the shaft, sloppy and warm and impatient, her teeth grazing once and her laugh buzzing against him afterward, spit running down over her fingers.

Sophia lower, kissing and licking where he was most sensitive, the tip of her tongue light, her breath a flutter on skin that was already too wet, one hand steady on his thigh so she could feel the pulse under it.

The green, the black, the pink.

All the stockings.

The mesh dragged on his thighs when they shifted, a fine rough drag that was somehow the most distracting thing in the room. It caught on the hair of his legs and pulled when they moved.

"Eight. Nine. Ten. Switch."

They switched.

Olivia slid down to the lower position and Sophia rose, and Lia went to the head and took it in with her cheeks hollow.

Lor’s fingers curled in her quilt.

The black mesh over Lia’s chest brushed his hip when she leaned. Her nipples were hard enough that he felt them through the weave and the green bra underneath.

On the next count somebody missed the cue. A mouth arrived at the head while another was still there, and Olivia’s lips met Lia’s on the slick tip of his cock.

Neither pulled away. Olivia’s breath stopped.