A room comes with a cost - Part 3 - Sexgeschichten

A room comes with a cost - Part 3

... glistening, the slick sheen coating everything from his wrist to my thighs.

"Look at her go, Dad... gushin' like a faucet. Told ya edging'd work."

His voice was breathy, edged with awe, his finger circling my rim faster, pressing just enough to make me clench and gasp around the gag. Steven leaned closer, breath hot on my ear, his tug in my hair gentling to a hold.

"That's our girl. Cum again... show Dad how sorry you are."

Mike's breath rumble in his chest vibrating through me. His fingers twisted inside, scissoring wide to stretch me fuller, thumb flicking my clit sharp and precise, the dual assault shattering the second wave without mercy. It hit harder, meaner... a brutal contraction that seized my core, ripping a wail muffled into the gag as I convulsed, gushing fiercer this time, hot spurts that splattered his jeans and the carpet below. My vision tunneled black at the edges, body arching bowstring-tight over his lap, thighs quaking in their locked spread, ass clenching futile against the exposure. The pleasure bordered pain, overstretched and overwhelming, every nerve firing at once... clit pulsing wild under his thumb, walls spasming greedy around his plunging fingers, the echo of Liam's tease at my ass sending aftershocks rippling deep. I sobbed into the gag, the fabric sodden and choking, my own taste flooding my senses as the peak crested and fractured, leaving me limp and twitching, a boneless heap across his thighs.

He slowed then... fingers ...

... easing to shallow strokes, milking the last flutters without pushing for more, his thumb circling lazy now, soothing the raw throb of my clit. The room spun back into focus: Their heavy breaths, the wet glisten on Mike's hand as he finally withdrew... slow, deliberate, a final curl that drew one last whimper from me. Slick trailed from his fingers, strings of my release catching the light, and he wiped them casual on my thigh... bare skin, still trembling... like it was nothing. Like I was. His cock strained insistent against me, a hot promise he didn't acknowledge, just shifted once under my weight, grunting low.

Steven's hand released my hair... no pull now, but a shift: Fingers threading gentle through the sweaty strands, stroking back from my forehead in a mockery of comfort. His other palm settled at my nape, massaging slow circles into the knotted muscles there, thumb digging just enough to ease the tension without erasing it.

"Good job, sis," he murmured, voice soft but laced with that smug edge, like he'd scripted the whole unraveling. "Now say thank you. Proper... like in the vid."

The gag muffled it, but I tried... lips working around the soaked wad, the words slurring thick and broken.

"Fank oo... for... motivatin' me."

Saliva dribbled down my chin, mixing with tears, the taste bitter and endless. *Thank you for breaking me open. For logging my shame. For making me cum like a slut over family dinner.* Steven's strokes continued... hair smoothed, neck ...