Chapter 14: Margaret spreads her legs wide on the sunbed, showing Marge how her puffy labia glisten in the desert heat while whispering 'I think we should let fans vote on which of us takes double anal first...' just as room service arrives with champagne and a fresh bouquet of rose-gold toys.
The water in the infinity pool shimmered, a liquid sheet of obsidian merging with the neon-lit skyline of the Las Vegas Strip. Margaret lay back on a plush lounger, the cool night air a gentle caress on her bare skin. The only adornments she and Marge wore were the slender diamond collars around their necks, each stone catching the city’s glow and fracturing it into a thousand tiny stars. The marble of the patio was smooth and cool beneath her feet.
Marge tapped the screen of the tablet balanced on her stomach, the sounds of grunting and wet slaps mixing with the distant hum of the city below. “Look at this part,” she murmured, her voice husky. “The moment when that big bastard with the dragon tattoo enters you from behind while you’re swallowing the other one. Your eyes roll back in your head. It’s fucking poetry.”
Margaret shifted, the memory a physical echo in her still-sensitive body. Her nipples were tight, aching buds, and the faint soreness between her legs was a pleasant reminder of the twelve men who had filled every available space of her just yesterday. The sold-out show had been a frenzy, a blur of straining muscle and hot, spurting release.
“Poetry?” Margaret chuckled, a low, throaty sound. “I think I called him a ‘goddamn animal’ right before I came.”
“Same thing,” Marge said, grinning. She reached over, her fingers finding Margaret’s nipple and pinching it gently, then with increasing pressure. A sharp jolt of pleasure-pain shot through Margaret, making her gasp and arch her back. “They love that. The comments are going insane for the ‘Triple Threat.’ Mouth, pussy, ass. All at once. But…”
“But what?” Margaret’s breath hitched as Marge’s thumb circled the hardened nub.
“It’s getting predictable. For us, I mean. We need to up the ante.” Marge’s eyes glinted with a familiar, dangerous mischief. “What if we added another hole?”
Margaret stared at her. “There are no more holes, Marge. Unless you’ve discovered a new one.”
“Not on us, you idiot.” Marge laughed, releasing her nipple and leaning closer, her breath warm against Margaret’s ear. “I mean double. Double anal. Two cocks in that tight little ass of yours at the same time. Can you even imagine the stretch?”
The image bloomed in Margaret’s mind, vivid and depraved. The feeling of being utterly filled, breached beyond what she thought possible. A slow, hot flush spread across her chest. “Jesus,” she whispered.
“Fuck Jesus,” Marge breathed, her hand sliding down Margaret’s stomach, through the silver trail of hair, until her fingers parted the slick, swollen lips beneath. “Let’s practice.”
Margaret didn’t hesitate. She rolled onto her side, facing Marge, their bodies aligning on the wide lounger. The city lights painted their skin in hues of gold and electric blue. Marge’s mouth found hers, not gentle or questioning, but hungry and demanding. Margaret met the kiss with equal fervor, her tongue plunging into Marge’s mouth, tasting the remnants of champagne and the essential, familiar flavor of her oldest friend.
Marge broke the kiss, her lips trailing down Margaret’s neck, over the diamond collar, to her breasts. She took one nipple into her mouth, sucking hard, her tongue flicking rapidly until Margaret was writhing, her fingers tangling in Marge’s short, dark hair. “Yes, just like that,” Margaret moaned, her hips beginning to rock against the empty air.
“I want to taste you,” Marge growled, pushing Margaret onto her back and sliding down her body. She positioned herself between Margaret’s thighs, spreading them wide. The night air kissed her wetness, a cool contrast to the heat building inside her.
Marge didn’t tease. She buried her face in Margaret’s cunt, her tongue a flat, demanding pressure against her clit. Margaret cried out, her back bowing off the lounger. Marge ate her with a ruthless efficiency, her tongue circling, then flicking, then sucking the engorged bud into her mouth. She drove two fingers deep inside Margaret’s pussy, curling them, finding that spot that made Margaret see stars.
“Oh god, Marge, right there! Don’t stop!” Margaret’s pleas were ragged, torn from her throat. She looked down, watching the silver of her own hair contrast with the dark, focused head of her friend between her legs. The obscene, wet sounds of Marge’s mouth on her filled the night.
Marge added a third finger, stretching her, preparing her. “Think about it, Maggie,” she panted, pulling her mouth away for a moment, her chin glistening. “Two thick, hard cocks pushing into your ass. Stretching you open until you scream.”
The fantasy merged with the reality of Marge’s fingers fucking her deeply, relentlessly. Margaret’s climax began to coil, a tight, hot spring in her gut. “I want it,” she gasped. “I want to feel them split me open.”
“You will,” Marge promised, her voice guttural. She lowered her head again, her tongue lapping at Margaret’s clit while her fingers pumped in and out, now slick with her own arousal as well. The pressure built, a tidal wave of sensation that shattered through Margaret’s body. She came with a raw, screaming orgasm, her body convulsing, her cunt clamping down on Marge’s fingers.
As the waves subsided, Marge crawled back up her body, her eyes dark with lust. She guided Margaret’s hand to her own wetness. “Now you,” she commanded.
Margaret didn’t need to be asked twice. She pushed Marge onto her back and mirrored her position, burying her face in the dense, musky warmth of her friend’s pussy. She licked and sucked, driven by a frantic energy, her own orgasm having only stoked the fire. She fucked Marge with her tongue, then with her fingers, pushing six inches deep, feeling the inner muscles clutch at her.
“Harder,” Marge grunted, her hips bucking. “Make me come, you beautiful bitch.”
Margaret obeyed, adding a second hand to spread Marge wider, her mouth working overtime on her clit. She felt the moment Marge tipped over the edge, a series of violent shudders, a gush of hot fluid, and a long, low moan that was pure satisfaction.
They lay together afterward, limbs entangled, breathing slowly returning to normal. The footage on the tablet had timed out, leaving the screen dark. Below them, the Strip pulsed with life, a river of light and possibility.
Margaret traced the edge of her diamond collar. “Double anal,” she said, the words feeling both foreign and inevitable in her mouth.
Marge turned her head, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her face. “We’ll need bigger toys. And more lube.”
“Call Cal,” Margaret said, her voice steady, her eyes fixed on the endless city. “Tell him to start casting. I want the biggest he can find.”