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She responds with breathy gasps, crying desperately for more. That’s never a problem for me. I could give it to her again all night. My handprint is already deep in her skin. Why not make it deeper?
I spank her even harder, stinging my hand practically numb. Morgan can barely contain herself. She rubs her titties like they’re causing her pain, filling the room with a wicked smile. From my view on the bed, our eyes lock. Like a true boss, she mouths direct instructions to me. Finger her from the back and suck on it. Show me how good she tastes.
Her wish is always my command. I’m Michael Hampton in the seventies, slowly strumming Miami’s guitar. My middle finger glides between her lips in repetitive fashion. Warmth meets wetness, embracing my skin like family. Eventually, I pull the finger back out, completely drenched. My eyes are still stuck on Morgan. Anticipation reigns in her eyes, watching like a cautious cat. I place the soaked finger into my mouth while she spectates. The taste floods my tongue in an instant, sweeter than a Peach Wildwood in ninety degree weather. If there was ever an example of coochie being a drug, this is it. I can’t help but to spin the block and taste her again. Even sweeter.
I’m still hungry. This time for both of them. Miami’s being choked with my left hand while I motion for wifey to join in with the other. That’s all she needs to see. She extinguishes the blunt and submissively climbs onto the bed. It’s not long before she’s close, giving me a chance to breathe in her coconut-scented hair. Her ovulating pussy smells even better. A very attractive, soul-pulling stench. I’m completely entranced when her petite hands find my throat. Catching me off guard in the best way. It’s clear she’s fully prepared for her own breakout performance.
“Where do you want me?” She questions, flicking her tongue across my bottom lip. The lingering saliva is collected into my mouth before an answer’s given.
“I want you to take control and fuck the shit out of her face,” I demand, retaining my form of supremacy. Morgan tilts her head like a horror movie psychopath, squeezing down on my throat while seizing my focus with a sinister look. As if my words completely possessed her.
“Sir, you know I love taking control,” she slaps me across the face without warning, “Now switch fuckin’ positions.”
That brings a smile. I taught her so well. This is why she shares my last name now. I always knew she had this in her.
My right cheek is on fire as we all switch positions. Except Miami, who’s still on the bottom, readying herself for my wife to straddle her face. I’m in front with the tip of my erect dick pointed in their direction, tonguing Morgan down while she gets the soul snatched away from her body. Our third has her completely in the moment, singing elation like an R&B singer on the hook of a song. Fuck and damn are the two words she’s most fluent in. There’s no boundary between any of our skin. We’re all bathed in lust and excitement. Me, in particular.
Watching the two of them hits harder than any porno or Tubi movie sex scene. Morgan’s mouth is gaped wide, taking all of her tongue like a champ. All while I’m talking her through it.
Reminding her of how amazing she is, how sexy she looks wearing my ring on her finger, and why she’s perfect for me. In return, she lets out a needy hum from the back of her throat, swallowing any silence left in the room. She tells me she loves me until her voice goes temporarily hoarse.
Her motion swiftens from atop, face fucking Miami with the motion of a bull rider. I’m brick hard and sweating down to my abs. I’ve waited so long to see this again. Now it’s reality, even greater than my imagination could’ve ever conjured up.
Like a true fiend, I’m right back for another taste of her, sucking her nipples until they’re completely hard. With my free left hand, I’m jacking myself off. Stroking it nice and slow as if this moment is taking place solely in my mind. Thick waves of heat rush through my body during each stroke, racing unrestrained vibrations inside my dick.
“You jelq it so good, Big Daddy,” she sings, “Tell me how it feels.” “Good as fuck, just like you.”
“Time for you to nut too,” she affirms next, pushing me from her. That sounds good to me. I step away from the bed, left hand still wrapped around my dick. Watching intently as Miami tours her gym-fit body with both hands underneath her. She’s unable to see anything but coochie. Even while being devoured, Morgan never looks away from me. She instead turns me into her personal Picasso painting, piercing me with an unwavering look from those perfect brown eyes. Her convulsions come in abundance, facially animated with pleasurable shock.
Holding her stare feels like standing too close to a wall of flames. I’m scorching from the neck down. Eternally attracted to every move she makes. My dick’s throbbing in my hand more by the second. Miami devours her so well with a beyond talented mouth. Her tongue game has Morgan scrambling for air, the urge to climax racing like the sands of time.
“That’s it. Take all of that tongue until you squirt. I’m right here. Let it all out,” I preach to her, seconds from my own complete loss of inhibition, “You really deserve this shit.”
Wifey’s an undiscovered singer, shouting her praise for the world to hear. Miami’s exerting smothered groans, going crazy in that pussy. This is her moment in the sun before her jersey’s raised to the ceiling. She’s not leaving without the spotlight. I’m in awe watching my baby reach her sensual breaking point. It’s like being on the beach, watching the Sun rise over the entire city. It’s beautiful. Meditative even. It makes me want to stroke myself harder. Nothing can top this feeling. This is graduation night with dad’s car. Cashing a six figure check with my name on it.
Flying on a private jet to New York for NYE. The perfect end to the perfect movie.
“Fuck. Oh fuck,” she rumbles in contentment, leaning back to fully capture all of Miami’s stabbing tongue. Our bodies seem to work in unison, coming together just inches apart. My nut is all over my hand, dripping down to my toes. Morgan tells me to come back to her, eyes directed
straight at my now flacciding, cum covered dick. She climbs away from Miami, who’s licking her lips of all the leftover juices. With me in front of them, they together clean the mess I made. Morgan focuses on the sensitive head of my dick while Miami sucks away at my sticky fingers. My nasty, slutty Good Girls.
“Yeah, that’s right. Clean all of that up. Just like that. You’re both amazing.”
The moment ends with us all sexed out and satisfied. Each of them winds up on opposite sides of me, lying on the free spaces of my chest. Morgan does get up, briefly, to retrieve the half-smoked blunt she’d previously left behind. I follow suit right after, struggling on numb legs towards the bathroom. A minute later, I’m right back out wielding two semi-damp washcloths to hand off to the girls. Morgan’s already back in bed with Miami, sparking up so we can start the last rotation. The lighter's flame appears on the first flick for a second before it diminishes. Morgan sucks her teeth in impatience before trying again, flicking until the flame remains long enough to ignite the blunt’s end.
“Damn, love,” she says in a choked voice after exhaling the first hit, passing it over to me, “What are we going to do without you?”
Smoke invades our faces as Miami bursts into laughter, “I don’t know. But I do know I’ll miss this. A lot.”
I chime in, passing the blunt over to Miami, “We all will.”
Especially me. Miami was the first woman to really see what Ecstasy Island is all about. More than that, she’s been a solid homie. I’m not even surprised that her and Morgan got along so well after our first threesome together. It shows just how cool she is. The South is lucky to be getting her again. That’s for damn sure.
The room is silent like the morgue I sent Morgan’s last nigga to. Weed clouds have turned the room into our own form of Heaven while I stare towards the ceiling. Grinning wide like a damn clown during a circus act. As strong as the strain is, I’ve already been on a major high for a while. If anybody else were in my shoes or sheets, they would be too. This is the fuckin’ life. I’m healthy, wealthy, and my wife gets sexier by the day. Her pussy is just as amazing as our first
time. Business is moving like crazy. I’m just a born winner, in every regard. Cocky? Maybe. It’s still true.
The last year of my life alone has been completely insane. Like something straight out of a TV show or movie. I met Morgan, falling instantly in love with her. Tore that pussy up like a real nigga should. Introduced her to a world she’d never quite experienced before in Ecstasy Island. Caught a body for her. Married her. Moved into a new house with her, right in the neighborhood of Glendale. Surrounded by the peaceful silence of a suburb but also an ever-growing community of young hustlers. Including me.