Novel Full Chapter 904: Beautiful Garden Caves (r-18)
Chapter 904: Beautiful Garden Caves (r-18)
I took over. No more waiting. No more gentle coaxing. The air in the room had thickened—humid with their combined scents, the sharp tang of arousal, the faint metallic edge of desperation—and I was done letting them set the pace.
The Taboo Aura pulsed— thick, syrupy, sinking into their skin like heat lightning.
Every breath they took carried it deeper; every heartbeat answered it with a filthy little flutter between their legs.
I sat up—fast, sudden—Margaret still straddling my hips, Patricia pressed to my side. My hands clamped onto Margaret’s waist—firm—and I flipped her beneath me in one smooth, brutal motion.
She hit the mattress with a sharp gasp, legs splaying wide, dress rucked up to her hips, black lace panties soaked through and clinging to the swollen outline of her cunt.
Patricia yelped—small, startled—but I caught her wrist before she could pull away, dragged her down beside Margaret so both women lay side by side, chests heaving, eyes wide and glassy with want.
Margaret’s nipples were diamond-hard under the thin fabric; Patricia’s were already leaking tiny wet spots through her dress. They were both trembling — not from cold.
"Stay," I said. Low. Final. They stayed.
I knelt between Margaret’s thighs first—shoved her legs wider with my knees until the tendons stood out, hooked two fingers into the crotch of her panties and yanked them aside.
The fabric tore slightly—wet snap—and her cunt was exposed: lips puffy and dark pink, glistening with thick arousal that had already soaked the lace dark, clit engorged and peeking from its hood like a ripe berry, entrance already clenching around nothing in hungry little pulses.
A thick string of slick stretched and snapped as I pulled the lace away, dripping down her perineum in a slow, obscene trail. Her scent hit me like a drug — rich, feral, edged with the faint sweetness.
It made my mouth flood instantly.
I didn’t tease. I lowered my head and buried my mouth against her. Tongue flat—broad and hot—I licked from her entrance to her clit in one long, deliberate drag, tasting the sharp, musky flood of her.
She bucked into my mouth—hard—hips snapping up, a raw "fuuuck—" tearing from her throat, long and guttural, cracking at the end.
"Oh god—Peter—" she moaned after, voice already wrecked, high and pleading. I sealed my lips around her clit—sucked hard—tongue flicking the swollen nub in rapid, merciless strokes while two fingers plunged inside her—deep, curling against that spongy front wall.
Her walls clamped down immediately—vise-tight, fluttering—slick gushing out around my knuckles in hot spurts that coated my hand and dripped onto the sheets in loud, wet patters.
"Ah—ah—fuck—yes—" Margaret sobbed, the words punching out with every flick of my tongue. Her thighs quaked around my ears, breath coming in short, broken sobs that turned into keening cries when I added a third finger, stretching her wider, scissoring slowly while my thumb mashed tight circles over her clit.
I pulled off her clit with a wet pop—strings of her arousal connecting my lips to her swollen bud—then shifted sideways. Patricia’s turn. I shoved her thighs apart—knees bent, feet planted wide—her dress already hiked to her waist, pale blue cotton pantiesdark and clinging at the crotch.
I ripped them down her legs in one impatient tug—fabric tearing at the seams—exposing her cunt: lips flushed deep rose, clit throbbing visibly, entrance weeping steadily, a thin trail of slick already running down her ass crack toward the sheets.
She whimpered before I even touched her — small, frightened, needy sound — thighs shaking like she might bolt and fuck herself on me at the same time.
I dove in. Mouth sealed over her entire mound—tongue spearing inside her first, fucking her with wet, thrusting strokes while my nose ground against her clit. She cried out—high, shattered—
"Peter—ohmygod—" back bowing off the bed so hard her shoulders left the mattress.
Her taste was different from the usual I was used to from Patricia... what had changed?— sweeter, almost floral underneath the musk — but just as thick, just as desperate. I added two fingers—slow at first, stretching her tight heat—then curled them hard against her g-spot, stroking in firm, relentless circles while my tongue lashed her clit in quick, fluttering flicks.
"Nnn—yes—right there—" Patricia wailed, voice climbing into a thin, desperate keen.
Her hips ground up into my face, smearing her slick across my chin, my cheeks, my nose — marking me with her need. Her walls fluttered wildly around my fingers—clenching, releasing, clenching again—more slick pouring out in hot, slippery waves that soaked my palm, my wrist, the inside of her thighs.
I pulled my mouth from Patricia—lips shining, chin dripping—and immediately returned to Margaret. Back and forth. Margaret—deep tongue-fucks into her dripping hole, fingers scissoring inside her, stretching her open while my thumb circled her clit in tight, fast rubs.
She screamed—raw, broken—"Fuck—fuck—don’t stop—" thighs clamping around my head, hips bucking so hard I had to pin her pelvis down with my forearm.
Her moans turned into animal growls, low and feral, vibrating against my lips every time I sucked her clit back in.
"More—please—" she begged between screams, voice cracking, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.
Then Patricia—sucking her clit into my mouth, tongue flicking the tip in rapid bursts while three fingers now plunged deep, curling and stroking that front wall until her walls spasmed and fluttered, slick squirting out in short, hot jets that splashed against my chin and throat.
"Ah—ah—Peter—I’m—" she sobbed, high and frantic, hips jerking like she was being electrocuted. Her cries pitched higher with every jet — sharp, helpless yelps that melted into long, shuddering moans.
They writhed side by side—legs tangled, hands reaching for each other—fingers interlacing, squeezing hard as their bodies arched in unison.
Margaret’s moans turned guttural—animal—"Yes—yes—fuck—eat me—"
Patricia’s high and pleading—"Please—please—don’t stop—" both voices blending into a continuous, desperate symphony of need that filled the room like smoke.
I ate them relentlessly. Alternating. Devouring. Margaret’s cunt clenched hard around my fingers—walls rippling, gushing fresh slick that ran down my wrist in warm rivers. I pulled my soaked fingers free and shoved them straight into Patricia’s mouth.
She sucked greedily—eyes rolling back—"Mmmph—" moaning around my knuckles, tongue swirling, tasting Margaret’s release mixed with her own.
Margaret watched—breath hitching—then lunged sideways and kissed Patricia—deep, filthy—tongues tangling, sharing the taste while I buried my face back between Margaret’s thighs, sucking her clit so hard she screamed into Patricia’s mouth.
"Oh god—Margaret—" Patricia whimpered against her lips, fingers digging into Margaret’s hair, pulling her closer while her own hips bucked against my thrusting tongue.
I switched again — fingers plunging back into Margaret, three now, pumping fast and deep while my mouth sealed over Patricia’s clit, sucking in pulsing rhythm with my fingers.
Their moans bounced off each other — Margaret’s low, broken growls answering Patricia’s high, keening cries — a filthy call-and-response that grew louder, more frantic.
They came almost together. Margaret first—body locking rigid, thighs quaking, cunt clamping down on my fingers in brutal, rhythmic pulses—slick squirting in forceful jets that soaked my face, my chest, the sheets beneath her ass.
Her scream cracked in the middle—raw, animal—"Fuuuuck—yes—coming—" back bowing so hard only her shoulders and heels stayed on the bed.
She kept pulsing around my fingers long after the first wave — tiny aftershocks milking me, more slick leaking in slow, warm pulses.
Patricia followed seconds later—hips jerking wildly, clit pulsing against my tongue—walls fluttering around my fingers in long, powerful spasms.
She sobbed my name—over and over—"Peter—Peter—Peter—" tears streaming, body shaking as hot gushes of release flooded my hand and dripped down her ass in thick, slippery trails.
"I can’t—I can’t stop—" she whimpered, voice fracturing, hips still twitching even as the orgasm crested.
I didn’t stop. Kept licking—slow now, gentle—through the aftershocks, drawing out every tremor, every flutter, until they were limp, gasping, thighs trembling, cunts twitching with overstimulation. Margaret’s clit jumped every time my tongue grazed it — too sensitive, too raw — making her hiss and buck weakly.
Patricia’s entrance fluttered open and closed like it was still begging, slick still leaking in lazy rivulets.
I lifted my head—face shining, lips swollen, chin dripping—looked between them. Margaret—wild-eyed, wrecked, chest heaving. Patricia—tears streaming, lips parted, looking at me like I’d just handed her the impossible.
I crawled up between them—cock heavy and leaking, dragging a wet trail across the sheets—positioned myself over them both. "Both of you," I rasped, voice thick with need. "Both of you are going to get what you came for."
Margaret reached for me—fingers wrapping around my cock, stroking once, twice—spreading the precum down the shaft.