Chapter 2: An Arousing Break
The cool glass pressed against my back, a stark contrast to the furnace blast still radiating through my core. Knees weak, lungs burning, I slumped deeper into the plush armchair someone had wisely positioned near the window. The city sprawled below, indifferent and glittering, a silent witness to the carnality unfolding high above. My skin felt hypersensitive, raw nerve endings buzzing.
Across the expanse of pristine carpet, Emily rose smoothly from her knees. She wiped the back of her hand across her lips, a slow, deliberate motion. Her dark eyes, heavy-lidded and unreadable, met mine for a fleeting second. There was no triumph there, just a deep, simmering satisfaction. A trace of me glistened at the corner of her mouth. She didn’t lick it away.
Natalie was already bouncing towards the massive, low-slung bed dominating the far side of the suite. Her giggle, a little breathless but still bright, cut through the lingering tension. "Whew! Someone needed that," she chirped, her wavy blonde hair swinging. She shot me a grin over her shoulder, playful but predatory. "Don't get too comfortable over there, champ. Intermission's almost over." She practically leaped onto the mattress, the silk sheets whispering.
Emily followed, moving with that unhurried, sensual grace. She sank onto the bed beside Natalie, the movement making the heavy, soft curves of her breasts sway visibly beneath her thin top. The soft golden light caught the sheen on their tanned skin. For a moment, they just looked at each other. The air between them crackled, not just with leftover lust, but with that familiar, sharp-edged rivalry.
"Tastes like victory," Natalie murmured, her gaze dropping pointedly to the residue on Emily’s lips.
Emily’s calm expression didn’t flicker. She simply reached out, her fingers grazing Natalie’s cheek. "Like you wouldn't know," she countered, her voice a low thrum. "Always rushing in."
"I get results," Natalie shot back, but her retort dissolved into a sharp intake of breath as Emily leaned in. Not aggressively, but inevitably. Their lips met.
It wasn't tentative. It was a collision. Natalie’s mouth opened instantly, her playful aggression translating into hungry pressure. Emily met it, her kiss slower, deeper, more consuming. Her tongue slid against Natalie’s without hesitation. Natalie moaned, a high, needy sound, her small hands tangling in Emily’s straight brown hair, pulling her closer. The trace of me mingled between them, a shared secret, a point of contention swallowed whole in their sudden, fierce connection.
I watched, mesmerized, the ache of my spent release already yielding to a fresh, insistent throb. My hand drifted unconsciously to my cock, half-hard again, resting heavy against my thigh. The sight was hypnotic: Natalie’s petite frame arching into Emily, her large, perky breasts straining against her top as Emily’s larger, heavier curves pressed against her. Emily’s hand slid down Natalie’s side, tracing the dip of her waist, then palming the swell of her ass through the thin fabric of her skirt. She squeezed, pulling Natalie tighter against her, grinding their hips together.
"Yeah, like that," Natalie gasped against Emily’s mouth, her voice thick. "Show me what you got, Em." Her own hands were frantic, shoving at Emily’s top, pushing it up to reveal the smooth expanse of tanned stomach, the lacy edge of her bra struggling to contain the soft weight of her breasts. Natalie dipped her head, her blonde hair falling forward as she pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along Emily’s collarbone, then lower, nuzzling the lace. Emily’s head fell back, a low moan escaping her parted lips, her fingers tightening in Natalie’s hair now, directing her.
Natalie obliged, pulling down the bra cup. Emily’s breast spilled free, heavy and pale in the dim light, the nipple already taut and dark. Natalie didn't hesitate. She took it into her mouth with a hungry sound, her tongue swirling, her lips pulling. Emily gasped, her body tensing, then arching, pushing herself deeper into Natalie’s mouth. Her hand abandoned Natalie’s hair, sliding between her own legs, pressing hard against her skirt. The soft shush of fabric on fabric was obscenely loud.
"Fuck, Nat," Emily breathed, her other hand roaming over Natalie’s back. "Don't stop."
Natalie hummed around her nipple, the vibration drawing another broken sound from Emily’s throat. Her free hand was already hiking up her own skirt, fingers disappearing between her legs. I could see the frantic tension in her arm, the quick movements beneath the fabric. She moaned against Emily’s breast, the sound muffled but desperate.
Emily wasn’t passive. Her hand found the hem of Natalie’s skirt and roughly pushed it up, bunching it around her waist. She shoved aside the flimsy barrier of Natalie’s underwear, her fingers seeking and finding slick heat. Natalie cried out, a high-pitched keen, her body jerking as Emily’s fingers plunged inside her. Natalie’s head flew back, breaking contact with Emily’s breast, her mouth open, eyes wide and unfocused for a second.
"God! Yes! More!" Natalie begged, grinding down hard onto Emily’s hand. Her own fingers worked faster between her legs.
They moved together, a tangle of limbs, sweat gleaming on their skin. Gasps, moans, the wet sounds of mouths and hands filled the hushed penthouse, merging with the low throb of the forgotten music. Emily drove her fingers deep into Natalie with sharp, demanding thrusts, her thumb finding Natalie’s clit and circling fiercely. Natalie writhed, her pleas dissolving into wordless whimpers, her back arching off the bed. She reached for Emily again, pulling her face down for another searing kiss, their tongues tangling, teeth scraping, sharing breath and frantic energy.
I was rock hard now, aching. The sight of Emily’s powerful fingers working Natalie, the image of Natalie’s frantic self-touch, the raw sounds tearing from both of them… it was pure fuel. My own hand wrapped around my cock, stroking slowly, not to finish, just to feel the hard proof of my need, to match their rhythm. Emily, her lips swollen, looked over Natalie’s shoulder. Her dark eyes locked onto mine. She saw my hand, the straining length of me. A slow, dangerous smile curved her kiss-reddened lips. She increased her pace, making Natalie shriek, her body convulsing.
"Watch him, Nat," Emily rasped, her voice thick with exertion and lust. "Look how much he wants us. How much he needs to be back in our mouths."
Emily and Natalie made sudden eye contact, seemingly coming to the same idea. "Let's play a game," they both said in unison. "Whoever cums first," Natalie began. "Is the loser," finished Emily. The two giggled and got to work.
The synchronized giggles hung in the perfumed air for only a second before dissolving into focused, predatory silence. Natalie surged forward, a tangle of blonde waves and pent-up energy, pushing Emily flat onto the silk sheets. She straddled one of Emily’s thighs, grinding her own slick heat down hard against the firm muscle, her large, perky breasts swaying with the motion. "My turn first," she declared, breathless but determined, her fingers already scrabbling at the waistband of Emily’s skirt and underwear.
Emily met Natalie’s challenge with surprising strength, her calm demeanor hardening into fierce resolve. She bucked her hips, leveraging her core to flip them both sideways in a tangle of limbs. "Think again, rush job," Emily countered, her voice a low thrum against Natalie's ear as she ended up partially on top. Her long brown hair fell like a curtain, partially obscuring their faces. In one fluid motion, she hooked her leg over Natalie’s hip, aligning their bodies.
The shift was immediate, instinctive. They pressed together, core to core, Natalie’s thigh sliding firmly between Emily’s, Emily’s powerful leg anchoring Natalie beneath her. Their centers met with a slick, wet sound that echoed sharply in the hushed penthouse. Heat radiated from the point of contact, intense and immediate. Both women gasped simultaneously, a sharp inhalation that mirrored my own as my hand tightened on my aching cock.
They began to move. Not tentatively, but with a driven, competitive rhythm. Hips rocked and ground, searching for the perfect friction, the angle that would break the other. Natalie’s movements were quick, almost frantic, her pelvis jerking upwards, trying to force a faster pace. "Gonna... make you... scream," she panted, her fingers digging into Emily’s hips, nails leaving faint crescents on the tanned skin. Her large, firm breasts pressed against Emily’s softer, heavier curves, the contrast stark under the golden light.
Emily responded with deeper, more deliberate rolls of her own hips, exerting crushing pressure downwards against Natalie’s thigh. Her breath hitched, but she maintained control, her dark eyes locked fiercely with Natalie’s. "You talk... too much," she managed, her voice strained but steady. She shifted her weight, adjusting the angle minutely, and Natalie cried out, a high, sharp sound. The wet sounds intensified, a rhythmic shlick-shlick-shlick punctuated by ragged breathing and the rustle of silk.
The scent of their arousal, muskier and more primal than the lingering perfume, filled the air. Sweat beaded on Natalie’s forehead, glistening on her tanned skin, tracing the valley between her breasts. Emily’s jaw was clenched, her calm facade cracking under the relentless, shared pressure. One of Natalie’s hands abandoned Emily’s hip, flying down between their tightly pressed bodies, her fingers seeking Emily’s clit.
Emily groaned, a deep, guttural sound at the back of her throat. Her own hand shot down, not to push Natalie away, but to find Natalie’s sensitive nub in the slippery mess. Their fingers tangled for a moment, slick and desperate, each trying to out-maneuver the other, to apply the pinpoint pressure that would tip the scales. "Bastard," Natalie hissed, bucking wildly, trying to dislodge Emily’s touch even as her own fingers worked furiously.
The competition became a physical echo of their earlier encounter, a duel fought with hips and fingers and gasping breaths. Natalie’s attempts at speed seemed frantic against Emily’s methodical, grinding pressure. Emily’s heavy breasts swayed with each deep thrust of her hips against Natalie’s thigh. Natalie’s face contorted, her playful glint replaced by pure, desperate need. "Fuck! Emily! Too... much..." she gasped, her rhythm faltering.
Emily saw the crack. She bore down harder, her own breathing ragged now, her fingers circling Natalie’s clit with bruising precision. "Give in," she commanded, her voice raw. "Lose." She increased the pressure of her thigh, grinding relentlessly against Natalie’s core.
Natalie’s body went rigid. A strangled cry tore from her throat, high and thin. Her eyes flew wide, unfocused, staring past Emily’s shoulder towards the glittering city lights beyond. Her hips jerked violently upwards once, twice, then froze as a powerful tremor ripped through her. Her fingers fell away from Emily, clawing uselessly at the sheets.
Emily didn’t let up. She rode Natalie through the climax, maintaining the pressure, watching the waves of sensation crash over her rival with intense, focused satisfaction. Natalie’s cries dissolved into choked sobs, her body shuddering uncontrollably against Emily’s. The wet sounds between them were obscenely loud as Natalie pulsed and clenched. Finally, as the tremors subsided into weak twitches, Natalie went limp, gasping for air, sweat plastering blonde strands to her forehead. A single tear tracked through the dampness on her temple.
Emily slowly eased the pressure, her own body trembling with exertion and the effort of holding back her own building peak. She looked down at Natalie, a slow, triumphant smirk spreading across her kiss-swollen lips. She didn’t speak. She just breathed heavily, the quiet victor, her dark eyes meeting mine over Natalie’s splayed form. Her own need was a visible throb beneath the surface, a promise hanging heavy in the thick air.
Emily hovered over Natalie, breathing hard, the raw triumph in her dark eyes warring with her own urgent need, a palpable throb radiating from her core into the thick, charged air. Sweat glistened on her collarbone, tracing paths through the faint dusting of city grime on her tanned skin. Below her, Natalie was still trembling, spent and gasping, her blonde hair fanned out on the rumpled silk, a single tear track drying on her cheek. The scent of sex, salty and deep, overpowered the lingering vanilla perfume.
"Now it's my turn, Nat," Emily murmured, her voice husky but steady. That quiet command was back, layered over the strain of her own arousal. She shifted her weight, her powerful thigh still pressed hard against Natalie's hip.
Natalie blinked, her gaze focusing slowly. A spark of defiance flickered in her blue eyes, quickly swallowed by dazed exhaustion. "Wha—?" she rasped, her voice raw.
Emily didn't explain. With deliberate intent, she pushed herself up onto her knees, straddling Natalie's prone torso. Her movements were fluid, purposeful, utterly ignoring Natalie's weak attempts to wriggle away. The heavy, soft weight of Emily's breasts swayed above Natalie’s face as she adjusted her position. Natalie’s eyes widened fractionally, understanding dawning just as Emily began to lower herself.
"Em, no! I'm all... sticky..." Natalie protested feebly, turning her head to the side, her voice muffled by the sheets. Her hands came up, pushing weakly at Emily’s hips.
Emily simply caught Natalie's wrists in one strong hand, pinning them firmly against the mattress beside her head. "Shh," she commanded, her voice low and thick. Her other hand guided herself down, settling her full weight onto Natalie's face. Natalie’s muffled yelp was instantly silenced. Emily’s thighs tensed, muscular and powerful, bracketing Natalie’s head, anchoring her in place. The intimate heat and dampness of Emily’s sex pressed directly against Natalie’s mouth and nose.
Natalie’s body stiffened, then bucked instinctively beneath the suffocating intimacy. Her legs thrashed against the sheets. All that emerged were choked, desperate sounds against Emily’s flesh. Emily exhaled a long, shuddering breath, her head tilting back. Her dark hair cascaded down her back as she began a slow, deliberate rocking motion against Natalie’s immobilized face. Her grip on Natalie’s wrists tightened, holding her utterly captive. The wet, obscene sounds of flesh moving against flesh resumed, rhythmic and demanding.
"Use your tongue, Nat," Emily groaned, the command vibrating through her body and into Natalie’s skull. She ground down harder, seeking the friction she craved. "Earn your keep." Her hips moved with focused intensity, each deep roll a demand for submission and sensation. She wasn't frantic like Natalie; this was methodical, relentless pursuit.
Trapped, Natalie had no choice. Her struggles lessened, replaced by ragged, shallow breaths stolen when Emily’s weight shifted slightly. Then, haltingly, reluctantly, her tongue moved. A tentative swipe against slick, swollen flesh. Emily gasped, her back arching sharply. "Yes," she hissed. "Like that." She guided Natalie’s head minutely with the pressure of her thighs, demanding more. Natalie’s tongue became more insistent, licking, probing, driven by instinct and the lack of air as much as the command.
The transformation was stark. Emily’s calm control fractured with each deliberate stroke of Natalie’s tongue. Low moans escaped her, growing louder, deeper, resonating in the quiet room. Her rhythm faltered, becoming less controlled, more desperate. Her hand released Natalie’s wrists to grasp her own breasts, squeezing hard, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Natalie’s hands, suddenly free, didn't push Emily away. Instead, they fluttered weakly, then settled on Emily’s sweat-slicked thighs, gripping as if for stability, or perhaps surrender.
The suffocating heat, the overwhelming scent and taste of Emily’s arousal, the relentless pressure – it forced Natalie’s body to respond despite her exhaustion. A fresh slickness bloomed beneath Emily, mingling with the earlier release. Natalie’s muffled whimpers sounded less like protest and more like involuntary participation. Her tongue worked harder, spurred by a confusing mix of suffocation and a dark, unwanted stirring deep within her own core. Emily’s rocking became frantic, jerky. Her breaths came in short, sharp gasps. Her moans climbed higher, losing coherence.
"Fuck! Nat! Don't... stop!" Emily cried out, her voice tight and strained, breaking on the final word. Her body locked, every muscle rigid. A powerful tremor ran through her, starting deep in her belly and radiating outwards. She pressed down onto Natalie’s face with crushing, final pressure, grinding hard, seeking that last fraction of friction. A long, guttural cry tore from her throat as the orgasm slammed into her, wave after wave shaking her frame. Her thighs clamped like a vice around Natalie’s head. She shuddered violently, her release triggering a fresh flood against Natalie’s lips.
Beneath her, Natalie’s body convulsed in a secondary, choked spasm, triggered by the sheer force and proximity of Emily’s climax. Her hands scrabbled against Emily’s sweat-slicked thighs. A high, muffled keen escaped her, vibrating against Emily’s pulsing core. The intensity was too much; Natalie’s body went limp again, utterly spent, consciousness flickering as she struggled for air trapped beneath the weight of Emily’s ecstasy. Emily finally stilled, slumped forward slightly, breathing in ragged bursts, the last tremors fading. The penthouse air hung thick and silent, heavy with the scent of salt and release. Across the room, I watched, my own need coiled tight and burning, hand gripping hard on the armrest, waiting.
Both girls sat up and looked my way. "Now that that's over, why don't we get back to you?" Emily cooed.