Claire: Ramya watches Demarcus fuck me

Ramya sits on the edge of my bed with the satin robe still on, untied but pulled loosely closed. Her long legs are pressed together. She watches us with dark, steady eyes, like she’s decided she can handle whatever happens next as long as she stays on this side of the line.

Demarcus turns me toward him and kisses me slow. His hands slide under the straps of the pink bra, then around to unhook it. I let it fall. He palms my breasts, thumbs brushing my nipples until they tighten, and I moan into his mouth. Behind me I hear the soft shift of fabric as Ramya adjusts on the bed.

We take our time undressing. My garter belt and stockings stay on because I know how they look. When I push Demarcus’s jeans and underwear down, his cock springs free—thick, heavy, already shiny at the tip. Ramya’s breath catches. A small, involuntary sound. She stares with her mouth open, and color rises in her cheeks.

I laugh under my breath. Ramya's filthy lips have sucked off countless men, but she's never touched one this big. And after I show my mentor what this cock does to me, she’ll be begging to take it where it counts.

I tear open a condom and roll it down his length with both hands, giving him a slow stroke once it’s on. I look over at Ramya and raise an eyebrow.

“See, my dear mentor? Responsible.”

A tiny smile touches her mouth. “Very responsible.”

Demarcus guides me onto my back. I spread my legs for him. He rubs the head through my wetness and plays my big lips apart, then pushes in. Even after everything, that first stretch still makes me groan.

But the hurt melts fast into the deep, full ache I crave. He works himself deeper in steady strokes until his hips are flush against me. I run my hand up his solid chest and look at him.

“Fuck… that stretch feels incredible. No man will ever make me feel what you can, D.”

I reach out without thinking and find Ramya’s hand. Her fingers lace through mine and hold on while Demarcus starts to fuck me in earnest.

The bed shifts with every thrust. I keep my eyes on Ramya for as long as I can, watching the way her throat moves when she swallows, the way her free hand tightens in the sheets. When the pleasure starts climbing too high I let her hand go so I can grip the backs of my own thighs and open wider for him. The orgasm hits hard—sharp and bright. I cry out and pulse around him while he keeps moving, riding me through it.

He pulls out and turns me over. Before he enters me again he leans down, brushes my hair aside, and kisses the back of my neck. One warm hand strokes slowly down my spine. The gesture is unhurried and tender. I see Ramya notice it, and her eyes soften for a fraction of a second before the heat returns.

Then he pushes back inside. The new angle punches a moan out of me. Ramya has shifted. She’s facing us fully now, robe open, long legs spread. One hand is between her thighs, rubbing slow circles over her bare lips. I love that she's having fun and joining in.

Our eyes lock. I push back to meet every thrust, matching Demarcus’s rhythm like we’ve done this a hundred times. Ramya’s gaze flicks from my face to where his cock is disappearing into me, then back again. Her fingers move with more purpose. I see the moment she actually slips one finger inside herself—her mouth opens and her eyebrows draw together.

I grin, reach to the nightstand, and toss her the bottle of lube. She catches it one-handed. Doesn’t hesitate. She clicks it open, slicks her finger, and works it deeper into her cunt with a soft, shaky exhale.

“You’re good at this,” she says, voice low, eyes on the place where Demarcus and I are joined.

He gives a rough laugh and grips my hips harder. “I know.”

We move together perfectly—me pushing back, him driving deep. The wet sound of it fills the room. Ramya’s single finger matches our tempo. Her breasts shift under the open robe with every breath. For a few seconds she looks almost dazed by how good we look fucking.

Then, so quietly I almost miss it, she whispers:

“I’m jealous.”

The words are barely there. A slip. I hold her gaze for one more thrust, let her see that I heard, and then I give her a small, private wink.

I glance down at where her finger is still moving inside her.

“Put two in,” I say softly.

Ramya’s eyes stay on mine. A hint of a smile touches her mouth. “Not yet.”

Demarcus’s rhythm changes. I feel the subtle swell of him, the way his grip tightens on my hips.

“I’m close,” he warns, voice rough.

I don’t just take it. I brace on my forearms, push back onto him, and deliberately tighten around his cock in slow, rhythmic pulls, milking him. He groans and slows his thrusts so he can feel every squeeze, grinding deeper while I work him from the inside. The wet, heavy sound of it fills the space between us. Ramya can’t see exactly what I’m doing with my muscles, only that he’s started moving like the pleasure is getting harder to hold back.

He lasts only a little longer.

When he pulls out, the sudden emptiness makes me gasp. I feel how open I am—stretched, slick, used in a way smaller men never quite manage. A quiet, selfish happiness cuts through the ache. One more time. I’m glad I got one more time.

Ramya is already scooting closer, face tilted up. Demarcus rips the condom off, strokes himself twice, and groans,

“Open up, baby.”

The first thick rope lands across her tongue. The second stripes her chin and splatters her left nipple. The rest she takes in her open mouth, eyes half-lidded, swallowing what she can while the rest leaks from the corner of her lips.

I lean in immediately. I kiss her, messy and deep, and taste him on her tongue. We pass the load back and forth for long seconds with salt and heat and the soft sounds of sharing until it’s mostly gone and we’re both breathing hard against each other’s mouths.

Ramya’s finger is still inside her virgin pussy when we finally break apart.

I brush a streak of cum from her chin with my thumb and look at her flushed, beautiful face.