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“I want both of you,” she whispered.
The way she said it—breathless, desperate, real—hit me in the chest like a wave. I watched her eyes dart between us, pupils blown wide with lust, mouth slightly parted, chest rising and falling fast beneath that tight little dress.
I moved first, sliding in behind her on the loveseat, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. I could feel the heat rolling off her. Her skin was flushed, goosebumps rising as my lips brushed her neck.
My friend sat in front of her, eyes hungry, like he was still waiting for permission.
She gave it to him with just a look.
“Take this off,” she said, grabbing the hem of her dress.
He moved closer, hands trembling just a little. He reached for the fabric and started to lift, slowly. She raised her arms, and I helped guide it up and over her head.
And fuck.
She sat there in nothing but a delicate black lace bra—barely holding in her full, perfect tits—and a matching thong that clung to her like it was begging to be pulled aside. Her skin looked like it was glowing in the low light. Soft, warm, kissed by wine and want.
“Jesus,” he muttered, eyes roaming over her like he didn’t know where to start.
“I know,” I said, grinning as I kissed the spot just below her ear, where she always melts. “She’s something else.”
Her breath hitched.
My hands moved over her stomach, fingers trailing lightly down to the waistband of her panties. I didn’t push them down. Not yet. I wanted to savor her.
He leaned in first. His lips found her collarbone, and she gasped—sharp and high.
I felt her body tense between us, her head falling back on my shoulder, mouth open.
“Let us take our time,” I murmured into her hair. “You’re ours tonight.”
Her response was a soft whimper, her thighs pressing together instinctively.
He kissed lower—his tongue now tracing the curve of her breast, over the lace. She arched her back, pushing her chest into him. I slipped the straps of her bra down, exposing her slowly. First one shoulder. Then the other.
She was breathing fast now, lips glossy and swollen, her hands gripping both our thighs as we touched her.
I kissed her neck, her jaw, her cheek. Let her feel my breath on her skin. My cock was hard as steel, pressing into her lower back, but I didn’t care. This was about her right now. She was already soaked. Already shaking.
When he pulled her bra down fully, her breasts bounced free—and fuck, they were perfect. Her nipples were stiff, begging to be touched. He took one in his mouth without hesitation, licking, sucking, grazing with his teeth. Her entire body jolted.
I ran my fingers up and down her stomach, then lower, over her thong. Her pussy was soaked. I could feel the heat radiating off her. I pressed my fingers just lightly over the fabric, rubbing slow circles into her clit. She writhed between us, torn between his mouth on her chest and my hand teasing her core.
“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t tease…”
But we weren’t done worshipping yet.
“Put your feet up here,” I said, patting the edge of the coffee table in front of us.
She hesitated, flushed and breathless—but obeyed. Slowly, she lifted her legs, placing her heels on the table and spreading them slightly.
And fuck… seeing her like that—laid open, on display, needy and desperate—nearly made me lose it.
He moved lower, kissing her stomach, then her hips. I followed his lead, kissing down her spine, brushing her hair aside, inhaling the scent of her skin. We met in the middle—our mouths close as we kissed down both sides of her thighs.
Her thong was drenched. I hooked my thumbs under the band and peeled it down, slow, watching her squirm as her pussy was finally bared. Pink, glistening, swollen and wet. So fucking ready.
He knelt between her legs, eyes locked on her soaked folds.
But I didn’t let him dive in just yet.
“Not yet,” I murmured, as I lifted her foot gently in my hand.
Her toes curled instinctively.
I brought them to my lips—soft, slow kisses, one toe at a time. I sucked them into my mouth, tongue flicking, worshipping her with the same reverence I’d give her pussy. She let out a helpless moan, head falling back again.
My friend did the same—lifting her other foot, pressing kisses along her arch, her heel, then sucking her toes into his mouth while she whimpered.
She was falling apart already.
“You love that, don’t you?” I whispered. “Being touched everywhere… being taken apart like this.”
Her voice was barely audible. “Yes. God, yes…”
Then I moved back between her legs, spreading her thighs wider, and leaned in.
“We’re not done worshipping you yet,” I said, staring at that soaked, pulsing pussy.
Then my tongue met her clit.
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