Ingrid's Weekend Part 7

“Right here? In front of us? Of course.” Beth sighs, turning to Ingrid. “We knew this was coming with these two. Right?”

Ingrid nods, wide-eyed. Riona’s head is in the way, but the slurping noises that she’s making paint a graphic picture. Adella’s momentary look of humility is gone. Now she has both hands on Riona’s head.

“Just like riding a bike for those two,” Beth mutters huffily.

Riona stops sucking long enough to rip her robe off and fling it on the floor, then dives back in, her naked hindquarters pointed directly at Beth and Ingrid. Her fingers work busily between her legs.

“Lovely,” Beth says dryly. “You might not like it, Ingrid. But this is what peak empowerment looks like.” When Ingrid doesn’t reply, Beth looks over. “Oh!”

Ingrid flinches and looks down at herself to see her hands in her robe: one softly massaging her breast, and the other between her legs. She goes rigid.

“Oh dear,” Beth says, startled. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“Oh!” Ingrid quickly removes her hands and holds them up; her right hand is damp with her juices. She’s even more thrown by this than by what’s happening a few feet away. It’s been so long since her hands have acted on their own this way.

She’s about to apologize to Beth, but Riona abruptly pulls free of Adella and swings around, offering up her rear end impatiently. Adella clearly isn’t feeling spiteful. She readily gets to her knees, pushes Riona’s face into the sofa cushions and lifts her hips.

Riona groans passionately as Adella enters her from behind.

“Well,” Beth says, licking her lips. “Don’t stop on my account. If you do it, I can do it.”

Ingrid doesn’t hear her; she’s watching Adella pound Riona into the sofa. She shifts restlessly; her arousal won’t go away on its own.

“Actually, Ingrid,” Beth is saying.

“Hmm?”

“I apologize in advance. I simply must do this so that I can boast about it to Lara later.”

“What?”

Ingrid turns to look at Beth only to be pushed down on the sofa. Beth straddles her, pulling her robe open. Ingrid’s breasts bounce free.

“Oh,” Ingrid says, too startled to react. She never would’ve expected this behavior from Beth.

“If Riley was FUTA’s arse, you were FUTA’s tits,” Beth says with a shrug. “When I tell Lara I’ve touched them, she’ll die of jealousy.” Without waiting for a reply, she seizes Ingrid’s breasts in her hands.

The sudden stimulation to her sensitive nipples makes Ingrid buck and cry out loudly enough to shock Beth into flinching. Adella looks up, still hammering Riona from behind.

Beth frowns down at Ingrid’s blushing face and heaving chest. “Was that from this?” she asks, touching Ingrid’s nipple with her fingertip.

“Ah!” Ingrid replies with a jerk.

“Dear god,” Beth says, stunned. She softly pinches both of Ingrid’s nipples, causing Ingrid to squirm underneath her. “Oh no. Oh no.” Now she’s trying not to laugh. “How’s that, then?” She twists gently.

“Harder,” Riona gasps, clawing at the sofa. “Yes!”

“Oi, you lot! Look at this!” Beth says, in awe of the way Ingrid’s body reacts to every touch of her breasts. Adella’s looking. Riona doesn’t care. Beth tugs at Ingrid’s nipples and Ingrid shakes, tears running down her face. “I think she’ll cum from just this,” Beth reports, delighted.

Ingrid is pinned in place by Beth’s body. She squeezes her legs together; she’s hot and wet down there. She wants to reach for herself, but Beth is in the way. She grips Beth’s thighs, whimpering.

Gently, Beth pulls and twists, raising the tempo. Ingrid’s panting matches her pace. Adella watches intently. Her fingers dig into Riona’s fleshy hips, and she fucks her harder.

Ingrid shudders, letting out a long moan. Her legs quiver, rubbing wetly together.

Beth’s eyes widen in delight. “She’s done it!” she announces.

Adella suddenly tenses and lets out an uncharacteristically pathetic sound.

She’s still staring at Ingrid’s red face.

Riona looks over her shoulder, indignant. Adella’s hips are no longer moving.

“Did you just finish?” she demands.

In reply, Adella pulls out and flops on the sofa, her sticky cock slapping against her thigh. Riona reaches between her legs, coming up with a palm full of semen.

“You’ve gotten lazy,” she chides Adella, grabbing her cock and stuffing it in her mouth.

“You all right, love? Might’ve got a little carried away,” Beth is saying to a woozy Ingrid. “I’ll get off you. Sorry. Sorry.” Beth climbs off, kneeling beside the sofa and taking Ingrid’s hand. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive. Don’t tell Riley that I got you off. It wasn’t on purpose.”

Ingrid stares at the ceiling. She hears maybe one word in three.

“She came from nipple play?” Adella asks, sounding winded. Absently, she places one hand on top of Riona’s head. She’s already hard again.

“She’s quite talented,” Beth tells Adella.

“I see that,” Adella says with a dangerous light in her eyes.

“Don’t even think about it,” Beth warns.

“Don’t worry. Della has plans,” Riona says confidently. She climbs into Adella’s lap and reaches between her legs, spreading her pussy with two fingers. Adella’s cum pours out, dribbling all over Adella’s hard, slick cock and bush.

As she’s about to sink onto it, Beth hits her from behind with her shoulder.

“Bollocks!” Riona crashes to the floor in an undignified heap.

“Best laid plans, you daft cow,” Beth chirps, flinging her robe off and hopping into Adella’s lap. She throws her arms around Adella’s neck. “This is what empowerment looks like, Ingrid,” she says over her shoulder.

Ingrid looks up, puzzled.

“Help me with the laying part of the plan-laying, darling,” Beth says to Adella in a sultry voice. “No objections, I trust?”

Apparently not. Adella grabs Beth’s little ass and yanks her onto her cock. Beth eagerly rolls her hips and lets out a lusty cry.

Riona is back on her feet, livid.

“Did you plan for this?” she demands, grabbing Beth’s hair and pulling. Riona swats Adella’s hand off Beth’s rear end, then licks her middle finger and trails it down Beth’s back, pulling her hair harder.

Beth feels where Riona’s headed and looks over her shoulder in panic, still fucking Adella.

“Oi! Oi!” she says, wide-eyed. “Ingrid! Help!”

But she’s not getting any help from Ingrid; Ingrid’s a little busy, with her robe open and both hands fully occupied. This time, she’s not touching herself because of nerves. It’s just a very good show; it would be a waste not to enjoy it. Although she does feel a touch of sympathy for the people in the neighboring rooms.