Good girls

Obediently the girls scooted up, but not far. Enough to get them off his bulge, but also enough that they could actually see it. Maybe he'd thought of that. Maybe not. Maybe Jack had forgotten what he'd programmed into the visual field of the TV for them. As his hand stroked their sides and hips, the girls moved like cats being petted, little stretches and curls, making it easier for him to stroke their curves, his hand sliding into the valley of their waists, across the broad swell of their hips, the smooth skin of their thighs and arms. They felt warm. Very warm. Not quite feverish but... certainly that smell of female sex didn't fade.

It faded even less as Jack felt something slide over the bulge of his shaft, then something else cupping his balls through his clothes. They moved so slowly that anyone who watched would only thing they were resting their hands there, but he could feel the slow, kneading squeezes, fingers curling and relaxing around his shaft. Each little arousal that they brought to him arousing them all the more. But they never looked up, staring at the TV, fixated.