A room comes with a cost - Part 3 - Sexgeschichten

A room comes with a cost - Part 3

... final... heavy, owning, the crack echoing like absolution... his fingers plunging instant, no tease, filling deep and curling vicious, thumb grinding my clit in firm, unyielding circles.

"Mmmph-twennie! Fank oo... pwease, Mike, pwease! Wet me cum... shorry, sho shorry, need it!"

The plea hung garbled in the air, a wrecked hum around the sodden gag, my body a taut bowstring over Mike's lap... ass throbbing mottled fire from the twenty cracks, pussy splayed and dripping, walls fluttering desperate around the promise of his buried fingers. The coil was a live grenade now, pinned at the pin: Every denied edge from the swats, every curl and grind building the wave to tsunami heights, my hips rolling frantic into his palm, slick flooding hot down his wrist to stain the kitchen floor. Tears soaked the panties in my mouth, the fabric a choking wad of my own shame... salty, musky, tasting of booth floods and lap begs... dribbling saliva down my chin to pool sticky on his jeans.

"Mmmph... pwease, Mike! Wet me... need to cum... sho shorry!"

The words slurred pathetic, hips bucking wild, clit pulsing under his thumb's feather tease, the stretch of his three fingers inside a cruel anchor holding me from the shatter.

Mike's breath shattered ragged against my ear... conflict fraying in the hitch, his cock a steel throb against my hip, denim rough under my grinding belly... but his hand didn't falter. Fingers curled deeper, scissoring slow and deliberate against that spongy ...

... spot, thumb circling my clit lazy, dragging the peak out like taffy without granting the snap.

"Not yet," he rasped, voice gravel and guilt, edged with that dark command they'd plotted in whiskey whispers.

His free hand splayed my back wider, pinning me firmer, ass clenching exposed under the boys' stares... Steven's eyes hungry from the chair, Liam's gleaming with boyish awe, pens forgotten in the log's hush.

"Beg proper, Sarah. Mean it. Say what you are."

The words twisted paternal into power, his thumb flicking once... sharp, electric... sending sparks lancing up my spine, the wave cresting vicious, just shy.

I thrashed... helpless, tears streaming hot, the gag muffling my wail into static as my walls clenched greedy around his thickness, chasing the friction with rolls that smeared fresh slick down his thigh.

"Mmmph... pwease! I'm... I'm a shlut! Your shlut... bad girl who needsh it! Pwease, Mike, wet me cum... fuh me through it!"

The confession cracked raw, voluntary filth spilling from my gagged lips, rebellion shredded to confetti under the need. Steven's chuckle rumbled low... triumphant, his hand twitching like he itched to join... but Mike's gaze held mine in the mirror across the room, stormy and owning, that flicker of unease buried under the rush. His fingers twisted inside... deeper, a final scissor that scraped my walls electric... and his thumb ground firm, unyielding circles on my clit, the dual assault shattering the hold.

"Yes," he ...