Tri-st update

You’re holding onto her hips like a subway strap, swinging your body against hers so that your cock roars all the way into Betsy’s pussy. She cries out in something like protest, but it’s only that there isn’t more, that you’re not going harder, faster, deeper, satisfying her insatiable demands. 

You hilt yourself in her, going all the way to what has to be her womb, and then you drum your pelvis against her flattened ass, a staccato beat, a grind that refuses to leave her cunt for more than a millisecond. You’re going into her hard and fast, a man gone berserk. And how could you not be, with the sights and sounds of these three women, Felicia and Karen masturbating like it’s possible for them to get off on this as much as you and Betsy are, and Betsy’s perfect body all yours. Everything is lust and rage, the world burning and exploding, forcing you to go along with it.

You don’t care about anything but your own satiation anymore. You’re sure Betsy is going to come anyway; she’s screaming so hard it’ll be a wonder if she ever stops coming. No, no playing, no teasing, no care taken to delicately modulate Betsy’s pleasure. You treat her like a piece of meat and she still comes—she can’t do anything else.

Your thoughts speed up, intensify. You’re bending under the strain and you realize it only as you snap. Your groin rattles against Betsy’s ass a few more times, crashing into her senses with all the pleasure she can take, then you roar as the explosion happens, a gush of hot cum—you white out before you see how Betsy takes being flooded, but still you’re dimly aware that she’s getting off on it. Her shrill cry of orgasm is enough to pierce even your satisfaction.

Then comes the dull, empty feeling of satiation; you’ve fallen in a loose-limbed heap over Betsy. You feel your own breath rasping into your chest, hear your blood pounding in your ears. Sweat runs from every pore. It takes you a long time to catch your breath. When you do, you realize that musky smell is Betsy. She’s inundated with your cum, drunk on it, her mind temporarily out of order as she splays under you. You pull out of her, and just to rub it in, you pick her up by her purple hair, bring her face to your limp cock.

“Look at me, Betsy, you’ve left me all dirty. Clean my cock. Come on, suck it.”

Betsy doesn’t look like she knows where she is or who she is, but her mouth opens and she obediently takes you between her lips, weakly sucking enough to take off some of the juices she flooded your prick with. She moans as the taste of your cream hits her tongue.

Karen and Felicia are masturbating harder than ever. It’s one hell of a show, but they could show you more.

“You two are being selfish. Why don’t you work together? Kiss each other.”

Karen looks in surprise at Felicia—the idea hadn’t occurred to her. It has with Felicia. She kisses Karen as soon as the words are out of your mouth. Karen is even more shocked at that, but her surprise gives way to curiosity. Their lips lock for a moment, two moments, a minute. They become so absorbed in each other that it feels like they’ve forgotten about you. You remind them with a bit of prankish timing.

“Now fuck,” you tell them, feeling your cock throbbing in the cavernous home of Betsy’s mouth, starting to grow again. “Show me how much fun it is to fuck the two of you and maybe I’ll give you my prick next.”

Felicia and Karen gaze fondly at each other—a little abashed by the dirtiness of the circumstances, but their lust is growing as yours is and they’ve formed a bit of connection over how good the kiss felt. Perhaps in deference to Felicia being the more experienced party, Karen lays down on her back, her pussy facing you. Felicia gets on top of her. 

Your cock is straining and stretching into total erection, making Betsy gag as it enters her throat, but all you can look at is those two blonde cunts meeting, kissing as their owners had, sharing the passion like a tennis ball being volleyed back and forth, going faster and faster with each reply. They’re kissing again too; it’s hard to remember that Karen was once reluctant, that this is maybe her first time with another woman. It’s true what they say: when the river is flowing, it doesn’t stop until it reaches the sea.