“Little more,” Tippi mumbles, and then arches with a hoarse sigh. “Fuck, that’sincredible…”
I will remember this for later and ask if I can do that for her as well. I want to make her eyes roll back like that, because it’s beautiful.
I keep throbbing inside Marissa, and her breath catches. “You feel…” She gasps, a small moan spilling from her lips as her back arches, “God, Jacob, that feelssogood. Please don’t stop.”
The way she says my name hits somewhere deep and molten. “Iwon’t,” I swear to her, vowing to myself that I will not come until they have.
Our rhythm becomes something shared between us, not led by any one person. I push into Marissa; she moves towards Tippi’s pussy; Tippi’s hips undulate. It’s like I imagine riding a wave to be, fluid and steady but electrifying at the same time. A choreography of trust.
Marissa’s hips stutter, and then she’s moving against me so hard and so frantically that I have to bite the inside of my cheek and steel myself to hold on and not let go. Her fingers bite into Tippi’s thighs as she comes around me, clenching against my cock almost unbearably.
The knowledge that she’s climaxing, and perhaps the desperate look on my face, has Tippi falling off the cliff as well, groaning as she holds Marissa’s face to her clit, her whole body juddering.
I don’t know how I do it, but I manage not to explode into the condom. I ache. I’m undone. I can hardly catch my breath. But I succeed.
My breath hisses through my teeth as Marissa tightens her cunt around me, almost a taunt, as she eases away. “Wow,” she grins, “that was…Yes. Brilliant.” She giggles as she kisses Tippi fondly.
“Come back to me,” Tippi whispers, reaching for me, and I don’t need asking twice.
I settle in the middle of them, gritting my teeth against the sensitising stroke as Tippi removes the condom. “You’ve been such a good boy for us,” she coos softly, and I am officially, permanently ruined. I grunt in my throat at her words and cover my eyes with one hand, leaning back, hard and tingling and uncertain what to do about it.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Marissa asks her, a wicked edge in her voice.
“Mmmmmm.” The way Tippi makes that sound has me looking up sharply. They’re both smiling at my near-painful hard on. Marissa runs a gentle hand through my hair, and Tippi squeezes my hand. “Do you want us to make you come, Jacob?”
I swallow, hard. “Um… yes.” Clearing my throat, I try again. “If you are both happy to, yesplease.”
They both give me a fond chuckle, and then I feel the soft press of Marissa’s lips at the base of my dick, slow and warm, like a greeting. I’m so close to the edge, even that has my breath shivering. It stops altogether when Tippi shifts to join her, brushing her lips over my shaft.
I thought I’d reached the limits of what I could feel.
I. Was. Wrong.
Their breath is warm against my skin. One soft pressure follows another, one lick chased by a gentle pull of a wet mouth, working in tandem until I can’t tell where one sensation ends and the next begins.
Tippi’s hair is tumbling over her shoulders, catching in the low amber light. Marissa’s dark hair brushes Tippi’s forearm, her profile radiant with concentration and pleasure in the act itself. The sight of these two beautiful women touching me with such care hits me as hard as any physical feeling ever has. Or could.
Marissa steadies me with a hand on my hip, her touch firm but reassuring.
“You’re close,” she murmurs. “We can feel it.”
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I - yes.”
Tippi’s hand slides up my torso, palm warm, guiding me back into my own body once again before the pleasure can push me out of it. She kisses the inside of my thigh, an anchoring touch, then leans back into the shared rhythm with Marissa. Two mouths, two breaths, two intentions aligned with perfect, devastating precision.
The visual alone nearly undoes me. I’m just a man, at the end of the day, and this is -fuck-
But it’s not the sight that finishes me off. Or the skill. Or the intensity.
It’s the moment Tippi Mills lifts her gaze mid-movement and whispers my name. “Jacob…”
My vision whites out as the pleasure hits like heat flooding every synapse at once, too much, too bright, too overwhelming. But Marissa slows her pace, letting me ride the crest rather than drown in it, and Tippi’s hand is on my stomach, keeping me from flying apart. I make a raw sound like I’ve been cracked open, and then -then-
I’m dimly aware of their hands supporting me while my hips jerk of their own volition. They make it clear I’m not alone in this moment of release, and I am held securely through every shudder. It’s odd that I feel so soothed while fighting to breathe properly from the intensity of my orgasm.
Tippi slides up my body to cradle my face in both hands, resting her forehead against mine; Marissa swallows my come and presses a soft kiss to where my hip joins my leg, before curling up with her head on my chest, sighing contentedly.
I blink, the room slowly coming back into focus. Marissa looks beautiful, flushed, and gentle, every inch of her glowing.
