Chapter 6: The Dancer's Demand
The door slammed open with Marco already unbuckling, his thick cock springing free and bobbing hard against the taut muscles of his abdomen. "Off your knees, Good Girl," Marco commanded, his dancer's physique radiating coiled energy as he gripped Stacy’s chin, forcing her tear-streaked face towards his erection still glistening from the club lights. "Suck it clean now." Dylan lounged back against the grand piano, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he watched Stacy whimper but obediently open her mouth, her tongue tentatively tracing the salty head of Marco’s cock just inches from her lips. "No," Dylan drawled, the single word sharp as a knife, freezing Marco mid-thrust and Stacy mid-lick. "Lick her clean down there first, Marco… taste what my cock left all over Pete’s Good Girl's wet pussy." Pete’s sharp intake of breath was audible across the room, his knuckles bone-white where he gripped the armrest, eyes burning as he watched Marco drop instantly to his knees before Stacy’s trembling thighs.
Marco didn't hesitate, his strong hands gripping Stacy's hips to hold her steady as his tongue, thick and demanding, licked a brutal stripe up her soaked slit. "Christ, she's fucking dripping," he growled against her trembling flesh, the vibrations making her gasp and instinctively grind against his mouth. He lapped hungrily at her swollen clit, tracing tight circles while his fingers dug into her plush thighs, spreading her wider as his tongue plunged deeper inside her, seeking every trace Dylan had left behind. Pete watched, his knuckles white on the armrest, a low, involuntary groan escaping his clenched teeth as Marco devoured his partner with obscene wet sounds. "That's it," Dylan purred from the piano bench, stroking himself slowly, "Clean her fucking cunt good, Marco – lick up every drop I put all over Pete's good girl."