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The longer we dance, the more like a unit we become. I can’t tell where one of us begins and the other ends, our bodies working in time to the song until it rolls into the next one. Noah doesn’t step on anyone’s feet, and with each oscillation of our hips against his, his muscles become more pliant and easier to move.
With another swivel of my hips, my arousal grows, and my pussy becomes wet. My breasts ache against Noah’s chest, begging for attention.
So when another song begins, I can’t take it anymore. “No more dancing,” I gasp.
“What do you want to do?” Noah asks.
“Was this our last exercise for tonight?” I ask Beck.
“Yes.” His response is stilted, like he’s holding himself back. It only serves to make me wetter. “There’s just dinner.”
“Fuck dinner.”
I push away from the wide-eyed men and walk toward where I assume Beck’s bedroom is, as the bungalow has a similar layout to ours. When I get to the doorframe and see his king bed, I stop to look over my shoulder at the leering couple.
“The first one in the room gets to eat my pussy.”
I walk inside and strip off my dress. A surge of power unlike anything I’ve ever felt floods through me at the sound of both men grunting and fighting to get to me.
I lay on the bed in my bra and underwear, a cute matching pale-pink set. The partially open door bangs against the wall, Noah and Beck wrestling to squeeze through the doorway at the same time.
I giggle and decide to give them both what they want.
“It’s a tie,” I declare as they push in. I part my thighs and drag a finger over the wet fabric covering my pussy, whimpering at the pressure on my clit.
“You can both share.”
Chapter thirty-three
Beck
I want to say we’ve created a monster, but Quinn is anything but. The best way to describe her is a goddamn fucking queen. She stares at Noah and I, who are salivating over her, one eyebrow cocked as she strokes her pretty pussy that tastes like heady sin.
“Well?” she asks. “What are you both waiting for?”
Quinn spreads her thighs wider, and Noah and I move again, no longer fighting as we each find a place between his wife’s legs.
Our bodies move in sync, our minds on the same wavelength as we each grab a side of the lacy underwear and pull, ripping the lacy scrap of fabric down the middle to reveal her plump pussy. The well-trimmed hair gleams with her arousal.
Quinn squeaks. “I would have taken them off for you—”
Her words die when Noah’s lips wrap around her clit and he starts sucking.
“Oh, fuck!” She grips her knees to keep her legs open as he teases her.
I glide one hand up her shapely calf, and Noah’s beard turns darker with Quinn’s juices. As he laps her up, lips swollen, he moans into her sex like he can’t get enough of her. His gaze finds mine, then he sucks her labia into his mouth, using his eyes to tell me to join in.
I lean forward and inhale her. Noah gives me more room, and I lick her swollen nub, using my fingers to pull her pussy lips wider for better access to play. Noah takes the hint, and we dive in together, our tongues lashing and tasting, our shoulders bumping and breaths mingling as we work to get Quinn off together.
“Yes!” Her hips buck upward. “Feels so good!”
Her praise only spurs us on. “Fingers,” Noah mumbles. “She needs more.”
We shift to gain better access to her entrance, and Noah plunges in first, two of his long digits working in and out of her wetness. He may not realize it, but he’s become so in tune with Quinn over the last few days. I have no doubt that, had this happened at the beginning of this week, I’d be the one telling him she needed our fingers.
“Please,” Quinn whines. “I want both of you inside me.”
“Fuck, pretty girl. I can’t say no to that.” I lick her clit and drag my fingers to join Noah’s, inserting one digit at first to test how much she can take. She’s so fucking wet, and her inner walls are fluttering like crazy.
