Chapter 6: Triple Decker Fuck
Sia surfaced from a thick, satisfied sleep to the sound of ragged breathing and wet, rhythmic suction. The silken sheets were cool against her bare skin, a stark contrast to the heat blooming anew in her belly. She pushed onto her elbows, the room tilting back into focus: the dying fire, the city lights blurring through the vast windows, the low thrum of jazz.
The sight at the foot of the bed froze her for a heartbeat.
Daniel, a sheen of sweat coating his muscular back, was driving into Marcus from behind, his grip firm on the bartender’s hips. Marcus was bent double over the ornate footboard, his face buried in the duvet, his own cock hard and dripping onto the fabric. But it was the other part of the tableau that caught in Sia’s throat. Daniel had a handful of Marcus’s dark hair, yanking his head back, and was thrusting his thick cock deep into Marcus’s mouth with the same relentless pace he used on his ass.
“Take it, you greedy fucker,” Daniel grunted, his voice gravelly with exertion. “You wanted this all night, didn’t you? Both ends filled.”
A garbled moan was the only response Marcus could manage, his body a tense arc of pleasure-pain. The obscene, slick sounds of flesh on flesh and the choked gags filled the room. Isabella was perched on a velvet chaise lounge, swirling a glass of amber liquid, watching with the focused intensity of a critic at a premiere. Her eyes flicked to Sia, a dark, knowing smile playing on her lips. “The audience is awake,” she murmured.
A reckless, hungry energy shot through Sia. The memory of her own shattering climax was just an echo; this was a new hunger, a need to be part of the machine of their pleasure. She slid off the bed, her legs still shaky, and crawled across the deep carpet on her hands and knees. The perspective from the floor was animalistic, a worm’s-eye view of straining muscle and pumping hips.
She positioned herself beneath the sweating, groaning tangle of men. The musky scent of sex was overpowering here, a primal perfume. She looked up at Marcus’s body, at his cock, rock-hard and weeping, jerking with every thrust Daniel delivered. Without a word, she arched her back, guiding the tip of him to her slick, swollen folds.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Marcus gasped around Daniel’s cock, the words distorted but unmistakable, as Sia lowered herself onto him, impaling herself in one smooth, desperate motion.
The feeling was electric. She was filled completely, stretched and claimed, the base of his cock grinding against her clit as Daniel’s powerful strokes from above drove Marcus deeper into her. They were a chain reaction, a circuit of raw sensation. Each of Daniel’s thrusts into Marcus’s ass was transmitted down the bartender’s body, becoming a deeper, harder plunge into Sia’s cunt.
“Jesus Christ,” Daniel choked out, feeling the new tightness through Marcus’s body. “She’s underneath us, isn’t she? Perfect fucking slut.”
Isabella rose from her chair and moved closer, her shadow falling over them. She reached down, her fingers tracing the line where Sia’s body met Marcus’s. “A perfect fit. Like钥匙和锁,” she whispered, her voice like silk. Then her hand came down on Sia’s ass cheek, a sharp, stinging slap that made Sia cry out and clench tightly around Marcus, which in turn made him moan loudly around Daniel.
The feedback loop was exquisite torture. Sia braced her hands on the carpet, meeting each jarring impact, her sounds joining the symphony of grunts and slaps and gagging. She was the center of the storm, the conduit. She felt Marcus’s thighs begin to tremble violently against her sides.
“I’m… I can’t…” he tried to warn, but the words were swallowed by Daniel’s cock.
“Come for me, Marcus,” Daniel commanded, his rhythm becoming frantic, brutal. “Fill her up.”
It was the permission he needed. With a strangled shout that was muffled by Daniel’s flesh, Marcus erupted inside Sia, his release hot and pulsing, triggering her own second climax instantly. Her vision whited out as her body convulsed around him, milking him dry.
Feeling Marcus come, Daniel lost his last shred of control. With a final, deep thrust that buried his entire length, he groaned, pouring his own release into Marcus’s ass, his body shuddering with the force of it.
For a long minute, the only sound was the ragged symphony of their breathing, intertwined and exhausted. Daniel pulled out first, stumbling back to collapse onto the bed. Marcus slid from Sia, spent, and rolled onto his side on the carpet, a drained mess.
Sia remained on her knees, feeling the warm trickle of Marcus’s come down her inner thigh. She looked up through a sweaty tangle of auburn hair to see Isabella standing over her, holding two fresh glasses of whiskey.
“A drink for the star of the show,” Isabella said, her dark eyes unreadable. She offered one glass to Sia and kept the other for herself. Sia took it with a trembling hand, the cool crystal a stark contrast to her feverish skin. The ice clinked, a tiny, fragile sound in the vast, debauched silence of the room.