Chapter 5: Best lick it
The stunned silence after Dea’s command hung heavy, thick with salt spray and the lingering musk of sweat and sex. Mark stared, jaw slack, at the raw invitation presented before him. Dea’s back arched, legs splayed wide, fingers working her own slick, swollen pussy open, her mouth noisily sucking Donny’s thickening cock back to full, rigid attention.
"Fuck me," she’d said. Not asked. Demanded.
Mark scrambled forward on his knees, his own cock springing back to life instantly, fueled by the shocking display and the sheer, obscene audacity of it. He barely registered Jenna’s low chuckle or John’s strangled gasp from the periphery. His world narrowed to the glistening target inches away: Dea’s gaping cunt, stretched and sticky with another man’s cum, her fingers glistening as they pulled her own lips apart. The potent cocktail of her arousal and Donny’s spend hit his nostrils, musky and primal.
"I can't fuckin' help it," Mark rasped, his voice thick with lust, echoing more to himself than anyone. He didn’t wait for permission she’d already granted. He surged forward, burying his face between her spread cheeks.
His tongue, broad and wet, slammed against her exposed hole. Not a tentative lick, but a full, hungry plunge. He lapped upwards, dragging through the slick mess coating her inner thighs and outer lips, gathering the thick, viscous fluid – Donny’s cum mixed liberally with her own juices. The salty-bitter tang flooded his mouth. He groaned, the taste unexpectedly potent, a visceral declaration of possession and violation that sent a jolt straight to his cock. He didn't hesitate, didn't recoil. He devoured it. His tongue stabbed deep into her entrance, probing the well-used channel still pulsing from Donny’s brutal fuck. He licked upwards again, finding her swollen clit, sucking it hard into his mouth, flicking the rigid nub with rapid, desperate strokes.
Dea gasped around Donny’s cock, the sudden, wet assault on her oversensitized flesh sending fresh sparks through her nerve endings. Her hips jerked involuntarily, grinding her pussy harder against Mark’s greedy mouth. Her moan vibrated against Donny’s shaft, making him growl and thrust shallowly against her face.
"Yeah, Dee! Fuck his face!" Donny commanded, his hands tangling roughly in her ponytail, forcing her rhythm on his cock. "Let the lifeguard clean up my mess! Good boy, Marky! Lick my fuckin' load outta her!"
Mark heard the words, the crude encouragement, but he was lost. The taste, the smell, the feel of her soft, wet heat against his tongue and lips, the way her muscles clenched around his probing tongue – it was overwhelming. He sucked harder on her clit, ground his face deeper into her cunt, his nose buried against her asshole. Every slurp, every groan he made was loud, obscene, punctuated by the wet slap of his lips and chin against her flesh and the rhythmic sucking sounds Dea made on Donny.
He felt it building, an unstoppable tide, not in his cock but deep in his balls. The sheer depravity of the act, tasting another man’s cum directly from this girl’s ravaged pussy while she sucked that same man off… it short-circuited him. His hips bucked involuntarily against the sand. A ragged, animalistic grunt tore from his throat as he came. Hard. No penetration, just his face buried in Dea’s sex, his body convulsing as thick spurts of cum pulsed uselessly onto the gritty sand beneath his knees, soaking into the beach. He trembled, gasping, his tongue still pressed limply against her clit.
Donny burst out laughing, a harsh, mocking sound. "Holy shit, kid! You came just from eating her? Just from tasting my fuckin' spunk? Fucking pathetic!" He yanked Dea’s head back slightly by her hair, forcing her off his cock. Strands of saliva connected her swollen lips to his glistening head. "Look at him, Dee! The little beach bum shot his load in the fuckin' sand like a goddamn teenager!"
Dea blinked, dazed, her mouth wet and slack. She looked back over her shoulder. Mark’s face was a mess of sweat, sand, and her juices, his expression dazed and humiliated, his softening cock still dripping onto the ground between his knees. A flicker of something dark – contempt, maybe, or power – crossed her features. She didn’t laugh. Instead, she locked eyes with Mark, her gaze fierce and challenging despite the lingering haze of sensation.
"Pathetic," she echoed Donny, her voice raspy but clear. She shifted, turning her body slightly towards Mark while keeping her knees spread, her pussy still presented, glistening and wetter than ever from his frantic attentions. She spat deliberately onto the sand near his hand. "Is that all you got? You lick for two minutes and fucking came?" Disgust dripped from her words, laced with a dare. "Get the fuck up. Stop playing with your tongue and put that little dick to use."
She turned back to Donny, not waiting for Mark’s reaction. Her hand wrapped firmly around his thick base again. "He talks big, Donny," she muttered, her eyes fixed on the veined shaft before her. "Let's see if he can fuck." Then she took Donny back into her mouth, deep, swallowing him down with renewed, sloppy ferocity, her head bobbing aggressively. Her other hand returned to her own pussy, fingers sliding easily through the slickness Mark’s mouth had left behind, circling her clit roughly. It was a blatant taunt, an invitation, a command: Do better.
Mark flushed crimson, the humiliation burning hotter than the sun. He looked down at his wilting cock, then back at the incredible sight of Dea servicing Donny while demanding he fuck her, her fingers working her own clit. The raw challenge in her voice cut through his shame. Embarrassment warred with a renewed, desperate surge of lust. He pushed himself up onto his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He shuffled forward, his erection stubbornly trying to recover. He positioned himself behind her again, his hands landing on her hips. They were slick with sweat. He could see the glistening mess of her pussy inches from his cockhead. He pushed forward, guiding himself with trembling fingers. The blunt head pressed against her slippery, swollen entrance. He felt unbelievably small after Donny, insignificant. He pushed.
Dea grunted around Donny’s cock as Mark breached her. It wasn’t the overwhelming stretch of Donny, but a tight, hot slide. She was incredibly wet, impossibly slick. Mark sank into her, groaning as her walls clenched around his girth. He bottomed out, his balls pressed against her sticky thighs.
"Fuck yes," Donny breathed, watching Mark sink into his girlfriend’s cunt, the cunt still slick with his seed. "Fill her up, kid. But remember who broke it in." He thrust shallowly against Dea’s mouth. "She’s still sucking my dick while you ride her. Remember that."
Mark began to move. Tentative thrusts at first, overwhelmed by the tight, wet heat enveloping him, by the view of Dea’s head moving on Donny’s shaft only feet away, by the feel of her fingers still rubbing her own clit between her legs. He gripped her hips harder, pulling her back onto his cock as he pushed forward. Her flesh jiggled with the impact. He found a rhythm, short, sharp strokes, spurred on by Donny’s crude commentary and the sheer, impossible reality of fucking this girl while she sucked off another man.
"Harder, you fuck!" Dea gasped, pulling off Donny for a second, spittle flying. Her eyes, dark and intense, locked onto Mark’s over her shoulder. "Is that all you got? Fuck me like you mean it, not like a scared boy!" She plunged back down onto Donny, sucking hard.
The insult, the challenge, ignited Mark. He slammed into her, driving deep, drawing a choked cry from her throat muffled by Donny’s cock. He set a punishing pace, his hips pistoning, the wet slap of skin on skin joining the rhythmic sucking sounds. He reached around, his hand clumsy, finding the hand she had on her clit. He pushed it aside, replacing her fingers with his own, grinding his palm roughly against her swollen nub as he fucked her.
Dea screamed around Donny’s cock, her body arching violently. The combined assault – Mark’s cock pounding her from behind, his fingers working her clit, the constant suction and pressure of Donny in her mouth – was relentless. Her vision swam. She felt stretched full, claimed from both ends, reduced to pure sensation. Her muscles tightened, coiling like a spring about to snap.
"Gonna come, Dee?" Donny taunted, fucking her mouth harder, gripping her hair. "Gonna come while you suck my dick and get fucked by the beach bum?"
Mark grunted, his thrusts becoming erratic, spurred by her tightening walls and Donny’s words. "Fuck yeah, make her come! Make her fucking scream!" he panted, grinding his thumb hard on her clit.
It was too much. The coil snapped. An orgasm ripped through Dea, savage and all-consuming. She convulsed around Mark’s cock, her inner walls clamping down in violent spasms. Her scream was muffled, gurgling around Donny’s shaft, her body trembling uncontrollably. She lost the rhythm on Donny, sucking erratically as the waves of pleasure, intense and almost painful, crashed over her.
Mark felt her climax tear through her, the rhythmic pulsing of her cunt milking his cock. He couldn’t hold back. With a guttural roar, he slammed deep and held, burying himself to the hilt as his own release exploded. Ropes of hot cum pulsed into her depths, mixing with the remnants of Donny’s spend already inside her. He collapsed forward over her back, gasping, his fingers still pressed against her throbbing clit.
Dea shuddered beneath him, utterly spent, her mouth still slackly wrapped around Donny’s cock, her own orgasm fading into trembling aftershocks. Donny watched Mark’s release, a dark smirk on his face. "There you go, kid," he chuckled. "Made your mark." He looked down at Dea, still impaled on his cock. "Her turn, sweetheart. Finish me off."
He grabbed her head firmly and started fucking her mouth with deliberate, powerful strokes, his hips snapping forward, driving his thick cock deep down her throat. Dea gagged, tears springing to her eyes, but she took it, hollowing her cheeks as best she could, the rhythmic choking sounds filling the air. Jenna watched, her hand idly stroking John’s own neglected cock, a faint, amused smile playing on her lips. John stared, hollow-eyed, at the tangled trio, at Dea servicing Donny while Mark’s softening dick slipped wetly from her cum-filled cunt, the proof of his climax leaking down her trembling thighs. The air crackled with the aftermath, thick with salt, sex, and the heavy weight of irreversible change. Dea trembled, her throat working, her body a used vessel, her mind a whirlwind of brutal sensation and the echoing command that had started it all.
Dea trembled, her throat working against the fading ache of Donny’s brutal thrusts, her body slick with sweat and the mingled fluids of two men. The raw command she’d issued – Fuck me – echoed in the hollow space Donny’s cock had just vacated, a stark contrast to the trembling aftermath. Her mind felt fractured, overloaded by the sheer sensory bombardment and the undeniable shift within herself.
Donny chuckled, a low rumble vibrating through his chest as he watched Mark’s softening cock slip wetly from Dea’s gaping cunt, a thick trickle of white escaping down her inner thigh. "Good boy, Marky," he drawled, patting the lifeguard’s slumped shoulder with mocking condescension. "Made a nice little deposit." His gaze, sharp and predatory, snapped back to Dea. "But cleanup ain't done."
He shifted his weight, the movement deliberate and powerful. Sand clung to his knees as he rose smoothly to his feet, his thick cock still glistening with Dea’s saliva, standing rigid and flushed against his stomach. The late afternoon sun glinted off the wet head. He looked down at Dea, sprawled and breathing heavily on the towel, her eyes wide and unfocused. "Dea," his voice cut through the humid air, devoid of warmth. "Kneel. Now."
The command brooked no argument. It wasn't a request; it was an order. Dea flinched, a fresh tremor running through her exhausted limbs. She pushed herself up onto shaky hands and knees, sand gritting against her palms. Slowly, awkwardly, she shifted her weight back, kneeling upright before him, her thighs sticky, her pussy throbbing. She kept her eyes lowered, fixed on the dark patch of sand between his feet.
"Look at me," Donny commanded. Her head lifted slowly, reluctantly. His expression was hard, expectant. "Open wide. Real wide. Tongue out." His hand wrapped around the base of his cock, giving it a slow, possessive stroke. "Gonna paint that pretty face."
Dea hesitated for a fraction of a second, the humiliation a fresh wave washing over her already raw nerves. The taste of him was still thick in her mouth, mixed with the salt of her own sweat and tears. But defiance flickered weakly, drowned by exhaustion and the undeniable, shameful thrum of arousal still pulsing low in her belly. She parted her lips, letting her jaw slacken. She extended her tongue slowly, laying it flat against her lower lip, a pink offering.
"Yeah," Donny breathed, his eyes locked on her mouth. "Just like that." His grip tightened on his shaft. He began stroking himself with rough, efficient jerks, his knuckles white. The thick vein along the underside pulsed visibly. Pre-cum beaded at the slit, glistening. "Fuckin' perfect target."
The rhythmic sound of his fist sliding over his slick skin filled the space between them – a wet, obscene counterpoint to the distant crash of waves. Jenna watched intently from beside John, her fingers still idly tracing patterns on his thigh. Mark stared, transfixed, his humiliation momentarily forgotten. John’s face was a mask of strained disbelief, his own neglected cock lying limp against his leg.
Donny’s breathing grew ragged, his hips thrusting shallowly into his own fist. "Gonna fuckin' cover you," he grunted, his gaze never leaving Dea’s waiting tongue. "Mark my fuckin' territory." His strokes became frantic, desperate. A low groan tore from his throat.
The first thick rope erupted without warning, hitting Dea’s outstretched tongue with a wet splat. Warmth bloomed, followed instantly by the intense, salty-bitter tang flooding her mouth. She gagged reflexively but held her position, eyes squeezed shut. The second spurt caught her squarely on the cheekbone, hot and viscous, sliding down towards her jawline. The third landed across her closed eyelid and the bridge of her nose. More followed in rapid, pulsing jets – across her forehead, her other cheek, her chin, coating her tongue and pooling thickly in her open mouth.
Dea gasped, shuddering as the warm fluid splattered her skin, the sheer volume overwhelming. It dripped from her chin onto her chest, sticky and warm. The taste was overpowering, thick and musky on her tongue, forcing her to swallow convulsively. She kept her mouth open, her tongue extended, taking it, feeling the wet heat plaster strands of hair to her temples and cheeks.
Donny groaned, a long, guttural sound of release, his body shuddering as the last few weak spurts dribbled onto her lower lip and chin. He pumped his cock slowly, milking the final drops onto her already glistening face. "Fuck yeah," he panted, surveying his handiwork with grim satisfaction. Dea knelt motionless, her face a glistening, pearly-white mask, streaks of cum running down her neck and onto her breasts. Her tongue remained out, coated thickly. Her breathing was shallow, ragged through her nose. The silence stretched, thick with the scent of sex and salt and the heavy aftermath of possession. Donny gave his softening cock a final shake, droplets spattering onto the sand near Dea’s knees. "There," he stated, his voice rough but calmer. "Now you look properly fucked."