The Power of Three

Iris’s body shuddered violently, thighs clamped tight against my ears as the final waves of her orgasm rolled through her. Her breath came in ragged, broken gasps, eyes fluttering half-shut, glazed with pleasure and wonder. Emily didn’t let up; her fingers kept circling Iris’s swollen clit in slow, teasing strokes, drawing out every last tremor while she whispered filthy praise into her ear.

“You look so fucking hot, Irie,” Emily purred, voice low and dripping with heat. “Coming all over Joe’s tongue like that… you’re perfect.”

Iris did look perfect; angelic, almost. Her bronzed skin glowed in the soft moonlight spilling through the hotel window, sweat-slick and trembling, small breasts rising and falling with each **** breath. Emily leaned down and kissed her again; slow, deep, tongues sliding, sharing the taste of Iris still clinging to Emily’s lips. Emily’s fingers never stopped moving, slipping gently between Iris’s folds, coaxing soft whimpers from her as the aftershocks lingered.

Emily looked up at me then, eyes dark and wicked, at the sheen of Iris’s cum still glistening on my chin and lips. I reached to wipe my mouth, but she caught my wrist, shaking her head with a slow smile.

She rose beside me, pressing her naked body to my side, and dragged her tongue along my chin; slow, deliberate; lapping up Iris. She moaned low in her throat, savoring it. “Mmm… she tastes so sweet,” she whispered, voice thick with lust. Then she pulled Iris up gently by the hand, helping her sit, legs still weak and trembling.

Iris leaned into me for support, chest heaving. Emily kissed the side of her neck, fingers trailing across her collarbone, down to cup one small breast and roll the nipple between thumb and forefinger. Iris whimpered again, hips twitching.

“Taste yourself off him,” Emily commanded softly.

I tucked two fingers under Iris’s chin and tilted her face to mine. Our lips met and she moaned into my mouth, tasting herself on my tongue, my lips, my chin. The flavor of her; sweet; mixed with Emily’s kiss still lingering on her. We traded lips in a slow, sensual dance: Iris to me, me to Emily, Emily to Iris. Tongues sliding, breaths mingling, hands roaming.

Emily’s fingers trailed down my abdomen, nails grazing skin, while my hand gripped Iris’s ass; firm, perfect. My other hand slipped between Emily’s thighs; finding her soaked, swollen, dripping. Her scent hit me hard; different from Iris’s, but just as addictive. I’d been tasting Iris, but Emily had been wet for both of us all night.

Then I felt Iris’s fingers at the waistband of my briefs. She slipped beneath the elastic, brushing the thick length of my cock. Her hand froze. A soft, shocked gasp escaped her; the same gasp Emily had made our first night together, when she’d wrapped her hand around me and realized just how big I was.

Iris pulled back slightly, eyes wide with a mix of awe and nervous hunger.

Emily recognized that sound instantly. She smiled, wicked and knowing. “I know, right?”

Iris looked down at the straining bulge in my briefs, then back up at me; eyes huge, lips parted.

Emily leaned in, voice a sinful whisper. “Do you want to see it now?”

Iris nodded slowly, a shy, hungry smile breaking across her face.

Emily and Iris turned to me in perfect sync, each placing a firm hand on my chest. I took the hint; backed up, letting them guide me until I fell onto my back against the mattress, crawling up toward the headboard. They followed; crawling onto the bed like predators, feline and deliberate, eyes locked on me with raw desire.

Emily and Iris; in only their stilettos; moved toward me on hands and knees, breasts swaying, hips rolling, skin flushed and glowing in the moonlight. Emily’s small, perky tits bounced softly with each movement; Iris’s long, lean frame arched like a cat in heat. They reached me together; Emily on my left, Iris on my right; hands sliding up my thighs, nails dragging, eyes never leaving mine.

Emily’s fingers hooked the waistband of my briefs. Iris’s joined hers. They pulled together; slow, teasing; freeing my cock inch by inch until it sprang up, thick and hard, veins standing out, head.

Iris’s breath caught again. Emily wrapped her hand around the base, stroking once, slowly.

“Look at him, Irie,” Emily murmured. “All for us.”

Iris reached out tentatively, fingers brushing the shaft—then wrapping around it, stroking in time with Emily. Two sets of hands on me now—Emily’s firm and confident, Iris’s softer, exploratory, trembling with want.

I groaned, hips lifting slightly. “Fuck…,” I groaned. They were gonna try to break _me tonight. And I'm gonna let them try. _