Again and again, the thick shaft slid between their joined lips, the semen cascading like a waterfall over their tongues, until at last, the flood began to subside. Then it was just she and Trevor, sharing the spoils, dividing up the syrupy bounty that Mark had bequeathed them. Their tongues plunged in and out of their open mouths, strands of come dangling, dripping, dropping to their skin to wait patiently to be scooped up. Her lips engulfed Trevor’s moustache, sucking the bristles dry.
Through it all, her clit had been filling with blood, her pussy lips bloated and saturated, crying for release. She reached down and stroked Trevor’s fat dick; it felt like a steel rod, coated and slick with pre-come. He needed release, too; needed it as desperately as she. And there was only one way for both of them to get it.
Melanie pushed Trevor back until he was lying on the floor. He stretched out, getting comfortable, and as she climbed on top of him she marveled at his cock; how chiseled and marbled it looked, as though a master sculptor had carved it. She straddled his waist and grasped his shaft, pointing the mushroom head between her sodden lips.
She was so wet that even a cock this thick slid almost all the way inside her without effort. She forced herself to slow down, savoring each delicious inch of meat. She leaned forward, her nipples taut against his chest, and the two of them started to kiss again. Trevor’s pubes scraped her clit and she moaned into his mouth. She milked his cock with her pussy, squeezing it. She felt his pounding heart. She knew it wouldn’t take long for either of them.
Trevor’s arms were around her, holding her. Stroking her. No, she thought, this won’t take long at all.
And then she felt Mark’s tongue worm into her asshole.
Melanie let out a gasp at this unexpected invasion. Again, she flashed on her dream, that moment when she felt the unknown presence pleasuring her. And it didn’t matter that she knew it was Mark; in her imagination it could be anyone, even her husband. Oh, yes, she thought. Let it be Paul. Her body jerked and tried to rise but Trevor tightened his grip, holding her in place. She moaned as Mark’s tongue tunneled slowly inside her tight, puckered anus. He pulled back, rimming her rapidly, lapping between her ass cheeks, before sliding down to dab at Trevor’s cock and the bottom fold of her cunt. His tongue, soft and downy, bathed her backside like a warm washcloth.
For a brief moment his mouth abandoned her and the air washed coolly over her rounded flesh. Then his thumb poked inside, massaging the rigid inner ring of muscle. Trapped between Trevor’s thick cock in her pussy and Mark’s thumb probing her ginger tunnel, she writhed like a fish on a hook, wriggling and squirming as the intermingled sensations of pain and pleasure flooded her body. Beneath her, Trevor moaned as Mark sucked on his balls.
Her breath was coming in short gasps. His thumb was pushing at her nether walls, stretching her, and the heat that emanated from his anal probe pulsed in time with her heartbeat. Her body had never felt so alive, so energized. Every nerve ending had been peeled back, raw at the core, and the rivulets of sweat streaming from her pores were like ribbons of fire, coating and blistering her skin. At this fevered pitch, every moment was a continual orgasm, as though her senses had been elevated to a plateau high above any previous peak. But deep inside her there was an even greater mountaintop looming, waiting only for the right trigger.