To kneel and swap his cock spit

Richard grew bold. His prostitute and his ex wife was making him feel like a god. His ego swell so big that he wanted more. More to humiliate his ex wife.

"Enough," Richard commanded, his voice thick with power.

He pulled away from Harry's mouth, a string of saliva connecting them. The ex-wife, her face glistening with Harry's arousal, looked up, her expression a mix of confusion and hope.

"On your knees," Richard ordered, pointing to the floor in front of him. "Both of you."

Harry and the ex-wife complied, their knees sinking into the plush carpet, their bodies aligned side by side.

Richard stood over them, his cock hard and glistening, a testament to their combined efforts.

"Look at me," he said, his voice low and commanding.

They both looked up, their eyes fixed on him, their expressions a study in contrasts. Harry's was cool, calculating, her enjoyment of the game evident in the slight curve of her lips. The ex-wife's was raw, vulnerable, a desperate plea for a second chance.

"Open your mouths," Richard ordered.

They obeyed, their lips parting in unison.

He took himself in hand, stroking slowly, teasingly, his gaze moving from one woman to the other. He was savoring the moment, the absolute power he held over them.

Then he leaned down, his cock hovering just above their upturned faces. He spit, a single, deliberate drop of saliva landing on Harry's tongue.

"Now," he said, his voice a husky whisper. "Share."

Harry turned to the ex-wife, her eyes glinting with mischief. She leaned in, her lips meeting the ex-wife's in a slow, deliberate kiss. She passed Richard's spit from her mouth to the ex-wife's, the act a symbol of her dominance, her ability to control not just him, but her as well.

The ex-wife accepted the offering, her body trembling with a mix of shame and excitement. She taste the young whore spit, her ex-husband orders, and the salty taste of Richard's cock all at once. She has lost this battle.

The ex wife then does the same and swaps his spit back to Harry. The cycle continues, their mouths meeting in a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses, their tongues tangling in a perverse ballet of submission and control.

They were no longer two separate women. They were a single entity, a two-headed beast of pleasure and pain for the man pleasure.

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