264: Nine months? (1)

**Chapter 264**

Valeria’s pussy took me as much as she could, already sloppy from the climax I had pulled out of her with my fingers. I stayed buried long enough for her to feel the stretch, the way her inner lips sat tight around my dick, velvet-swollen and clinging in a wet ring, and the base engulfed in her giant soft ass, which was equally tight, a hot cushion that squeezed the root every time she breathed. Inside she was thicker than a mouth, ridged, pulling instead of sliding.

The office smelled like her now, salt and skin and the faint perfume that lived in her uniform. I drew back until only the head kept her open — that rim dragging over the ridge, reluctant to let go — and pushed in again. The desk jumped under her hands. Her breasts dragged on the wood, nipples catching the polish. Slick ran down both thighs in warm lines and flicked off her skin when my hips met her ass.

“Huueng—!! Ahn—!”

I changed how I used her instead of staying on that one stroke. I hooked her hip and lifted until she was on her toes, and the angle put the head along her front wall. She was slick there, swollen, a softer give than the rest of her, and the sound she made for it was shorter, punched out of her throat. Her fingers slipped on the polish and left damp prints.

“Haa—nnh—”

I let her down and pulled her onto me by the waist, so the last inch came from her own weight. Her cunt met the base with a wet slap I felt in my stomach. I held her there and ground in small circles, deep enough that the head stayed rubbed against the farthest point I could reach while my pelvis stayed flush to her. That depth was less tight than her entrance and hotter, a slow soak instead of a grip.

The inside of her fluttered in slow waves, hotter at the mouth than at the depth, clinging when I tried to ease off, as if the first two inches wanted to keep the head and the rest of her only wanted to be filled. When I started moving again, I used my hands for different things: an open spank when she clenched, a full grab when she tried to crawl forward, a pinch under one cheek that made her hole flutter around me and sent a fresh run of wet down to my dick.

The skin under my palm went from pink to a patchy red and stayed hotter than the rest of her. Each slap left a faint sting in my own hand and a jiggle that traveled through her onto the cock.

“Jack—ahh~~”

Elara sat where she was. She watched the shaft come out shining, a string of Valeria hanging off it, and disappear again. I felt like her lack of involvement could be put to better use. So I took a gamble.

“My lady, my penis is drying,” I said, stopping for a few seconds, eliciting a relieved sound from Valeria. “Would you be willing to help me again?”

Elara looked at me without a word, then at Valeria’s leaking thighs, then back at me, and then without a word, stood up.

Elara climbed on without an argument. One knee on the desk, her weight settled over Valeria’s broad back, the heavy softness of her chest pressing through the gown. Her face came low on Valeria’s lower back. Valeria grunted under her, breath knocked thin. Her chest flattened to the wood. Her ass stayed up because I kept a hand there, thumb in the crease, holding the cheeks apart so nothing was hidden.

I pulled out.

Air on a wet cock was a sharp drop after that heat, almost cold along the vein, the sudden absence of her pulse and her grip. Valeria’s empty hole twitched and dripped onto the desk edge in a thick bead that sat, stretched, and fell. I put the head to Elara’s lips, and she took it at once. Her mouth was cooler than Valeria’s pussy and softer, no ridges, no slow milking, only spit gathering fast and a tongue that could choose where to press. It flattened along the underside and then curled when I gave her two short thrusts and left the head sitting against her throat, a wet ring of lips instead of a clinging cunt. Drool ran down the shaft in a sheet, over my fingers, off me onto Valeria’s uniform in a warm patch that spread. The sound Elara made around it was messy and wet, a choked slurp she swallowed down. I used her hair only to keep her face where I could leave one hole and enter the other without hunting for her mouth.

I dragged free with a rope of saliva still tied to the head, the string breaking on Valeria’s spine, and rammed back into her in one motion.

“AAHHN~~!!”

Pussy after mouth hit harder because of the switch. The first inch went easy on the spit, a slick courtesy Elara had put on me, and then her walls turned it thick again, grabbing from the rim upward, wetter than before because she had clenched on empty and been filled in the same breath. A mouth let go when I left it. Valeria’s cunt tried to keep me. I felt her pulse against the underside. I felt the overflow squeeze out around the base and run hot down both of us.

I kept that exchange from turning into the same trick twice. Two strokes in Elara’s throat, deep enough that her eyes watered and spit bubbled at the corner of her mouth, cool silk and then a swallow. A handful buried in Valeria, angled so the head rubbed that swollen front wall, heat and a squeeze that started at the entrance and climbed. Once I only dragged the sloppy head across Elara’s tongue on the way past, leaving a smear of spit on Valeria’s ass before I pushed in to the root. Valeria felt the empty stretch, the noble weight on her spine, the wet brush of Elara’s mouth near her back, then the fill. She squealed into her arm.

“Haa—n-hnng—ahhhn~~!”

Elara’s hand left the desk.

And then…

Thwap!!!

~~

Let me know if there are any mistakes.