Chapter Three: The Second Mask (Part 4)

But Elena was already hungrier. She watched him in the mirror with his head bowed, sucking on her—bare-headed, long-horned, little whimpering hums leaking out of his nose in that female voice, his big breasts squeezed against her belly—and the laughter in her eyes sank, bit by bit, into hunger. "Babe, my turn." She pushed his shoulders until he leaned back a little, then bent down herself and kissed that pair of breasts of his, bigger than hers.

First her lips, then her tongue, the forked tips each raking across one of his nipples until the highlights on the membrane quivered wildly. She made noise on purpose while she sucked—squeak, smack, squeak again—with a soft, melting "Ah..." in between, threads stretching from the corner of her mouth onto his chest. She rolled the threads between her fingers until they broke, then smeared them back into his cleavage.

His whole body went rigid for a moment, then went soft. His female voice cried out thinly, breathless: "Don't suck so hard... mmh... it's loud. You can see it all in the mirror."

"I want it loud." She looked up, her black eyes shining like two drops of oil.

She didn't stop at his nipples. She set both hands on the outer sides of his breasts and pushed them together—that pair of black breasts, bigger than hers, squeezed into each other, the cleavage deep as a split in the night, the membrane stretched until it shone, highlights flooding toward the middle from both sides. She buried her face in it and licked down that deep valley; when she was done licking she lifted her head and pressed her own breasts against his too, four mounds of latex squeezed together, nipple to nipple, grinding, rolling, squeezing out squeaks each longer than the last.

"See?" she panted. "Yours cover mine up completely. You're too big, babe. I can't even squeeze them together."

"Don't say it..." He was so embarrassed his voice shook, but he pressed his chest into her even harder. "Don't say it out loud..."

"I'm going to say it." She nibbled his nipple lightly, her black fangs pressing four shallow dents into the membrane; when she let go, the dents sprang flat one by one. "Your tits are bigger than mine, and when they get kissed they shake harder than mine. Shake like they're begging me."

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