Chapter 49: The suction
The kitchen was alive with the sizzle of butter in the cast-iron skillet, the rich scent of vanilla and cinnamon curling through the air as Marty flipped another golden-brown pancake onto the growing stack. Steam rose in lazy tendrils from the plate in front of Colt, where syrup pooled in amber puddles between bites already taken. Lori knelt between his spread thighs on the hardwood floor, her lips stretched obscenely around his thick cock, her blue eyes flicking up to watch his face as she worked him slow and deep.
"Christ, she's good at that," Marty murmured, her voice warm with amusement as she drizzled more batter onto the skillet. She leaned against the counter, her full hips cocked to one side, the fabric of her apron straining over the swell of her tits as she watched Lori's head bob. "You ever teach her, or was she just born knowing how to suck a dick like a professional?"
Colt groaned around a mouthful of pancake, his fingers tightening in Lori's hair as she hollowed her cheeks, her tongue pressing firm against the throbbing vein underneath. "Fuck—she practiced," he managed, his hips jerking slightly as she swallowed around him, her throat fluttering. "A lot."
Lori pulled off with a wet pop, her lips glossy with spit and pre-come. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing a streak of his arousal across her cheek. "Mm, you taste even better with maple syrup," she purred, tracing the flushed head of his cock with her tongue before sinking back down, taking him deeper this time, her nose brushing the coarse hair at his base.
Marty laughed, shaking her head as she slid another pancake onto his plate. "Eat up, mijo. Gotta keep your strength up if she's gonna milk you dry before noon." She rounded the table, her fingers trailing over Colt's shoulder before she tugged at the neckline of her blouse, fanning herself. "Hot in here, no?"
Colt didn't answer, his breath coming in short gasps as Lori's mouth worked him relentlessly, her hands cupping his balls, rolling them gently before pressing a single finger against his perineum. His fork clattered against the plate as he dropped it, grabbing the edge of the table instead, his knuckles whitening. "Shit—Lori, I'm close—"
She didn't stop. If anything, she sucked harder, her fingers tightening just enough to make his thighs tremble.
"Let her have it," Marty murmured, her dark eyes gleaming as she watched. "She's been begging for it since she woke up, hasn't she?"
Colt's hips bucked once, twice, then he was coming with a ragged groan, his cock pulsing against Lori's tongue as she drank him down, her throat working greedily. Strands of thick white spilled past her lips anyway, dripping down her chin, her tits—already bare and swaying slightly with the motion of her head. She didn't pull away until he was spent, until the last shuddering twitch of his cock had subsided, and even then, she licked him clean, her tongue lapping up every stray drop.
Marty whistled low, reaching out to thumb a stray streak of come from Lori's bottom lip. "Damn, girl. You weren't kidding about that syrup thing."
Lori grinned, licking her lips. "Told you." She rested her cheek against Colt's thigh, her fingers tracing idle circles on his knee as he caught his breath. "Think you've got another one in you, baby? Marty's barely halfway through that batter."
Colt exhaled a shaky laugh, running his fingers through her hair. "Christ. Give me a minute."
Marty turned back to the stove, her hips swaying exaggeratedly as she flipped another pancake. "Take your time, mijo. I got all morning."
And as Lori's fingers began to wander again, stroking him back to hardness, as Marty hummed under her breath and the scent of warm butter filled the kitchen, Colt knew breakfast was going to take a lot longer than usual.
By the time the last pancake was served, Lori's face was glazed with his second load, her tits sticky and shining. Marty leaned in, swiping a finger through the mess on Lori's collarbone before sucking it clean, her eyes locked with Colt's.
"Guess I'm doing dishes after all," she sighed, though the smirk on her lips said she didn't mind one bit.
Lori just laughed, licking her fingers.
And Colt?
He reached for another pancake.
Colt bit into the last pancake, the sweetness of maple syrup sharp on his tongue. Across the table, Lori licked her fingers clean, her lips still glossy with his release. The morning sun slanted through the kitchen windows, catching the stray streaks of cum clinging to her collarbone.
Marty scraped the skillet clean, the metal rasping against cast iron. "Gonna leave any for me, or you two just planning to fuck through breakfast?" She turned the faucet on, hot water steaming as it hit the greased pan.
Lori stretched, her tits swaying, nipples still tight from the cold kitchen air. "Think I’m ready for round three," she murmured, pushing up from the floor. Her ass, round and heavy, brushed against Colt’s arm as she moved past him toward the table.
Colt watched her, the fork loose in his fingers. "That so?"
She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she bent forward, palms flat on the wood, her back arching just enough to present herself. The curve of her ass was obscene, the cleft already glistening with leftover spit and lube from earlier.
Marty chuckled, scrubbing at the pan. "Oh, now that’s an invitation."
Colt stood, his cock half-hard again already, the weight of it heavy between his thighs. He ran a hand down Lori’s spine, feeling the way her breath hitched under his touch. "You want it slow?"
She turned her head, cheek pressed against the table. "Deep," she said, voice low. "Make me feel it all morning."
He didn’t waste time. His fingers parted her, finding her already slick, the muscle fluttering under his touch. He pressed in without warning, the thick head of his cock stretching her open in one slow, deliberate push.
Lori gasped, her fingers scrambling for purchase on the table. "Fuck—"
Marty glanced over, suds dripping from her wrists. "Too much?"
Lori shook her head, her blonde hair sticking to her flushed skin. "No, god—perfect."
Colt bottomed out, his hips flush against her ass, the heat of her almost unbearable. He waited, letting her adjust, feeling the way her body clenched around him like a fist. Then he pulled back, just enough to make her whine, before driving into her again.
The slap of skin filled the kitchen, rhythmic and wet. Marty hummed along, scrubbing absently at a plate, her hips swaying slightly in time with Colt’s thrusts.
"You gonna come like this?" she asked, glancing at Lori.
Lori groaned, her cheek still pressed to the wood. "Mm, yeah—he’s so deep—"
Colt gripped her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he fucked her harder, each thrust making her whole body jolt forward. The table creaked under their weight, the plates rattling.
Marty set a clean dish in the rack, unfazed. "Better not break my good china."
Colt smirked, slowing his pace, dragging his cock out almost entirely before sinking back in, inch by inch. Lori shuddered, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
"You like that?" he murmured, rolling his hips in a slow circle.
She nodded, her voice wrecked. "Love it—love how you fuck me—"
Marty turned off the faucet, drying her hands on her apron. "Need anything, or you two good?"
Lori lifted her head, her lips parted. "Water."
Colt paused, pulling out just enough to let her shift. But Lori didn’t reach for a glass. Instead, she turned her face toward him, her blue eyes heavy-lidded.
"You know what I mean," she whispered.
He exhaled, his cock still buried in her ass, and reached down to take himself in hand. A quick adjustment, the angle shifting—then the first hot spurt hit Lori’s lips, her tongue darting out to catch it.
Marty leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Jesus, you two."
Lori drank greedily, her throat working as Colt emptied himself into her mouth, the stream steady and thick. Some of it spilled, dripping down her chin, her neck, pooling between her tits.
When he was done, she licked her lips, sighing. "Better."
Colt huffed a laugh, hands back on her hips. "Ready for more?"
She arched against him, pushing back onto his cock, already hard again. "Always."
And as Marty shook her head and went back to the dishes, the kitchen filled with the sounds of their fucking—skin, breath, the occasional choked-off moan—Lori grinned, her face sticky, her body full.
Breakfast had never tasted so good.