Chapter 382: Give us Everything (R-18)

They kept going without pause, the wet, rhythmic sounds of their mouths filling the quiet bedroom. Sophie took him deep again, throat relaxing around the thick invasion until her lips brushed the base.

She held him there, swallowing deliberately so the tight muscles milked him in slow pulses. When she finally pulled back, a thick strand of saliva connected her swollen lips to the flushed head of his cock.

Maya immediately claimed him, her tongue flat and hot as she licked a long stripe up the underside before sucking the head with firm, focused pressure. "Gods, Stan... you’re throbbing so hard against my tongue," she whispered between wet pulls. "I can feel how close you are. Give it to us. We want every drop."

Sophie stroked the spit-slick shaft with both hands while Maya worked the tip, her thumbs rubbing the sensitive ridge beneath the head.

"That’s it, baby," Sophie purred, voice husky with arousal. "Use our mouths. Fuck our throats if you want. We’re right here for you... both of us." She leaned in and licked a broad, wet circle around the head while Maya sucked lower on the shaft, their tongues occasionally brushing against each other in a filthy, coordinated dance.

Stan’s groans grew deeper, more guttural. His fingers tightened in their hair, hips rolling in small, involuntary thrusts as the dual stimulation pushed him higher. The wet heat, the constant sliding of soft tongues and tight throats, the way they traded places without ever leaving him empty, it was overwhelming.

Camilla’s spiritual sense remained locked on the scene against her will. She could feel the sharp spikes of Stan’s pleasure every time one of them took him to the root, every time a tongue flicked the sensitive underside of the head. The wet sounds echoed in her ears. Heat pooled low in her belly, unwanted and insistent. Her breathing had grown shallow.

She clenched her thighs together harder, the soft silk of her robes suddenly too warm against her skin. Pride still kept her frozen in place, but the restless ache between her legs refused to be ignored.

Sophie and Maya sensed how close he was. They intensified everything, sucking harder, taking him deeper, hands stroking and twisting in perfect rhythm. Maya pulled off just long enough to speak against the slick head, her breath hot. "Come for us, my love. Fill our mouths. We want to taste you... share you."

Sophie hummed in agreement as she swallowed him again, the vibration traveling straight up his shaft. "That’s it... let go. We’ve got you. Give us everything."

Stan’s control finally shattered. A deep, raw groan tore from his chest as his climax hit. Thick, hot ropes of cum pulsed from him in powerful surges. Sophie took the first several spurts deep in her throat, swallowing greedily around him. When she pulled back, still stroking, Maya leaned in and sealed her lips over the head, catching the rest on her tongue and in her mouth. Some of it spilled past her lips, painting her chin and the upper curve of her breasts in glistening white streaks. Sophie immediately licked the excess from Maya’s skin, then shared a messy, open-mouthed kiss with her so they could taste him together, tongues sliding, soft moans mixing with the salty-sweet flavor of his release.

They stayed on their knees, mouths and hands still gently working him through the last aftershocks, cleaning every drop with soft, devoted licks. Even after the final pulse, his cock remained thick and rock-hard in their hands, glistening and heavy, clearly not finished.

Camilla’s spiritual sense had recorded every second of it, the way his body tensed, the powerful pulses of release, the soft, wet sounds of the two women swallowing and sharing him. Her face burned. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

Something deep and unfamiliar clenched low in her stomach, hot and restless. She remained perfectly still on the hovering jade bed, eyes closed, spiritual sense still unwillingly fixed on the scene... and on the fact that Stan was still completely, defiantly hard.

Sophie and Maya exchanged a look over the still-hard length of Stan’s cock, their lips still glistening with the last traces of his release. Slowly, deliberately, each girl dragged her tongue across her lower lip, then winked at the other in perfect, silent understanding. A visible shiver of anticipation rolled down Stan’s spine. He couldn’t help the low, appreciative laugh that escaped him.

"What are you two naughty girls planning?" he asked, voice still rough from climax. "I’m curious..."

Maya’s smile was pure mischief. "Don’t worry, my king. You won’t be for long."

Before he could say another word, both women reached up and peeled the upper halves of their midnight-black dresses down. The silky fabric slid over their shoulders and arms, pooling at their waists, and their breasts spilled free, full, heavy, and breathtaking.

Maya’s were soft and abundant, the creamy flesh swaying gently with the motion, her nipples already tight and a deep rose against the pale skin.

Sophie’s were slightly firmer, perfectly rounded and high, the pink peaks stiff from arousal and the cool air. Both pairs were large enough that they filled and overflowed a man’s hands, the soft undersides heavy, the deep cleavage inviting. The faint sheen of residual cum still marked the upper curves of Maya’s chest, and Sophie’s were flushed with heat.

Without another word they leaned forward together. Four soft, warm breasts enveloped Stan’s thick, spit-slick cock, pressing it snugly between the plush valleys of their cleavage. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming, hot, yielding flesh molding around his shaft from every side, the natural bounce and weight of their tits creating a perfect, sliding pressure as they began to move.

They worked in seamless rhythm, pressing their breasts together and rolling them up and down his length in slow, deliberate strokes. The soft, heavy flesh squeezed him from base to tip, the friction slick with saliva and the remnants of his earlier release.

Every upward glide made the flushed head of his cock peek out from between the soft mounds. Every downward stroke buried him again in warm, pillowy heat.