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"You planned this," I say, running a finger through her folds. She shivers, a low moan escaping her lips. "Knew you'd end up like this."

"Always," she gasps.

Tripp pulls the romper off her completely, tossing it somewhere behind him. Now she's naked, except for her boots. I leave them on. The leather and that bare, dripping pussy, makes my cock throb.

I'm still in my jeans, and the pressure's getting painful. I unbuckle, pop the button, and free my dick. It's rock hard, pre-cum beading at the tip. Tripp's stripping too, his cock standing thick and angry, veins pulsing along the shaft.

Autumn's eyes go wide, watching us stroke ourselves. Her scent spikes again, filling the room with black cherry and almond, so thick I can almost taste it.

"Please," she whimpers. "Please, I need⁠—"

"You need what?" I ask, leaning over her, letting the tip of my cock brush against her stomach. She arches into it, a desperate little sound escaping her lips. Her gray eyes are glazed, pupils blown wide.

"Everything," she breathes. "I want you to taste me. Please, Clint. I need your mouth on me."

The way she says it—taste me—makes my cock twitch. Tripp's already gripping her thighs, spreading them wider.

"Get comfortable,Sweetheart," Tripp growls, pulling her down the bed until her ass is at the edge and her boots dangle.

I drop to my knees on the floor between her legs. The motel carpet is rough, but I don't give a shit. I wrap my hands around her thighs, feel the heat radiating off her skin, and lean in.

The first taste of her hits me like a fucking freight train. Sweet and tart, mixed with the salt of her arousal. I groan against her, my tongue flattening against her clit, lapping in long, slow strokes. She throws her head back, a raw moan tearing out of her throat.

"Fuck, yes!"

I work her clit with my tongue, circling, flicking while my fingers find her entrance. She's soaked, slick coating my fingers as I slide one in, then two. Her walls grip me immediately, fluttering around my knuckles.

"More," she begs.

I oblige, adding a third, stretching her slowly. She's already so wet that it slides in easily. Tripp leans over her, his face hovering above hers, his green eyes dark with hunger.

"You like having his fingers inside you?" he asks. "You like the way his tongue feels on that greedy little clit?"

"Yes… God, yes."

"Tell me what you want next."

"I want your cock in my mouth," she gasps, her hips grinding against my hand. "I want to taste you while Clint eats me."

Tripp shifts, positioning himself next to her head, his cock hanging, already slick with pre-cum. She opens her mouth, her tongue darting out, and he feeds himself into her slowly. The sight of her lips stretching around his shaft, her gray eyes fluttering closed, makes me double my efforts.

I suck her clit into my mouth, flicking it with my tongue, curling my fingers inside her, searching for that sweet spot. When I find it—she screams around Tripp's cock and bucks against my face, her thighs clamping around my head.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Tripp's growling, his hips beginning to thrust shallowly into her throat.

"That's it,Sweetheart. Take it. Take all of it."

Her hands grip his hips, not pushing him away but pulling him deeper. The gagging sound she makes has my own cock throbbing, leaking against the carpet. I push my fingers deeper, scissoring them, stretching her for what's coming.

"Sounds like she's ready," I murmur against her cunt, pulling back just enough to breathe. "Think she can take both of us?"

Tripp pulls out of her mouth with a wet pop, his cock glistening with her spit.

"Not yet," he says, his voice strained. "I want to see her cum on your tongue, first. Want her so wound up she's begging for it."

I bury my face back in her pussy, my tongue lashing at her clit while my fingers pump inside her, fast and deep. Her moans are incoherent now, a string of curses and pleas as I feel the tension building in her thighs.