20. Stone
STONE
She tastes incredible.
Like sugar and salt on my tongue.
Like a poem.
Hell, I could write a song about this woman, and I don’t mean her pussy.
I mean the way she lets go.
It’s a beautiful thing to witness.
As I flick my tongue against her sweet clit, she bows her back, rocking her hips against me.
Part of me is waiting to hear her moans.
But then it registers fully why I’m not.
Because when I look up from the paradise I’m devouring, my best friend is feeding her his cock.
And that’s hot as hell.
The way she takes it.
How she lets out a relaxing breath, opens her mouth wider, and lets him push in.
My dick throbs from the sheer hotness of it, from the way she can handle all of it, from the way she draws him all the way in.
She’s like a champion, how she wraps her hands around his ass and deep-throats him, rocking her hips against me.
And I am in a happy zone.
Just enjoying the hell out of her sweetness on my tongue. I could spend hours here, savoring this woman.
But that doesn’t seem to be the order of the day.
“Grab her ass, Stone. Get your hands all over her.” Callum grunts as he thrusts in her mouth.
Well, hello, direction.
I’m always happy when there’s communication in the bedroom.
I slide my hands under her cheeks, gripping them.
And Ivy moans, even with my buddy’s dick in her mouth.
Like I said—she’s a champion.
“Don’t hold back,” Callum tells me on a thrust, his dick going in and out of her mouth. “Don’t hold back at all. Grab her ass, squeeze it, grip it, and bury your face in her pussy.”
I can do that. I can definitely do that.