Chapter 12: Don't You Dare Stop

Continued from chapter 11:

Keila trades places with Naomi, settling onto her knees behind me so that her position mirrors the one I held only moments ago. Her palm finds the curve of my backside, and she delivers a series of slow, testing swats against the reddened flesh there, each one lighter than what Naomi gave me, more teasing than punishing, a promise of what's still to come.

"My turn to watch you worship," Keila says, her voice husky, thick with the exhaustion still clinging to her from before.

Naomi settles into the chair Keila has vacated, spreading her long legs wide across the cushion. She hooks two fingers into the side of her satin panties and drags the thin fabric aside rather than pulling it off entirely, exposing the dark, glistening lips of her sex already slick with arousal. She spreads herself wider, offering me an unobstructed view of her heat, swollen and inviting.

"Come here, Eros," she says, patting her bare thigh with the flat of her hand.

Chapter 12:

I crawl to her on my hands and knees, lower my mouth to the source of her pleasure, and begin to drink from her. Behind me, Keila's warm brown palm claims my bare bottom as her own territory, spanking me in slow, deliberate strokes as I work my tongue along the seam of Naomi's sex.

Naomi gasps the moment my tongue finds her clitoris, sharp and needy, her fingers gripping the armrests until her knuckles pale. Her head falls back against the cushion, her heavy breasts rising and falling with each quickened breath, her nipples drawn tight and dark, straining upward as if reaching for something just out of sight.

"Yes... just like that... oh, yes," she groans, her hips beginning to roll against my mouth, chasing the friction, chasing more. Whatever composure she carried into this room dissolves into something raw, vocal, desperate.

Behind me, Keila's hand grows bolder. No longer testing, she settles into a steady rhythm, each slap landing square against the meat of my backside, the crack of her palm against my skin sharp and echoing through the room.

I nibble at the edges of Naomi's folds first, tracing the delicate skin with my lips before dragging my tongue slowly along her outer lips, circling her clitoris, dipping lower to trace the soft skin of her perineum. Then I dive in, devouring her hungrily, and her hips buck hard against my face, chasing the pressure I give her.

Whatever control Naomi has left shatters completely. She cries out, loud and unrestrained, the sound bouncing off the walls of the room. Her fingers tangle in my hair, not to push me away but to pull me closer, demanding more, always more. Her inner muscles clench and flutter around my tongue in a rhythm all their own, milking me as she rides wave after wave of building sensation.

"Fuck! Yes! Don't stop!" she bellows, her voice cracking on the last word. Her hips thrash wildly, slamming against my mouth in a desperate search for more pressure, her breasts bouncing with the force of each shudder that runs through her.

Keila watches with wide, hungry eyes, her own arousal spiking visibly at the sight of Naomi's total surrender. Her spanking continues, unbroken, steady against my upturned skin, even as her gaze stays locked on the place where my mouth meets Naomi's writhing body.

Seeing the normally composed Naomi reduced to a sobbing, writhing mess beneath my tongue sends a visible tremor through Keila's slender frame. Her breath catches, and without seeming to notice she does it, she rubs her damp thighs together, seeking friction of her own against the fabric of the skirt she discarded on the floor beside her knees.

"Look at her," Keila breathes, her tone somewhere between awe and hunger. "She's completely lost herself to you, Eros." Her hand pauses mid-swing, hovering just above my reddened skin as she watches the way my jaw works tirelessly, swallowing down Naomi's cries along with everything else she gives me.

"Keep... ahh... spanking him... Keila," Naomi gasps, her words fracturing apart between breaths. "Ah... ahhh... OH—" The scream that tears out of her a second later shreds the quiet luxury of the room, a primal release that seems to vibrate straight through my bones.

Her body goes rigid, arching into a bow as her inner muscles clamp down around my tongue in violent, rhythmic spasms. Her nails dig into my shoulders, dragging thin lines of heat across my skin as she drowns in the force of her own climax, her breasts heaving in erratic, uneven waves.

"Oh, fuck! Yes! Ha—ah!" She collapses forward, her sweat-slicked skin sticking to mine, her breath coming in broken, jagged sobs of pleasure.

Hearing Naomi's explosive finish seems to snap something loose in Keila. Whatever hesitation lingered in her hand a moment ago vanishes, replaced by a feverish, urgent energy. Her palm comes down harder now, faster, the sound of skin against skin turning sharp and rapid. She isn't holding back anymore. The sight of Naomi's total ruin has lit something desperate in her own blood. Her free hand grips my hip, anchoring me in place so I can't shift out of position no matter how the force of each strike makes me want to.

"Don't you dare stop," she commands, her voice trembling with an excitement she doesn't bother hiding. "Finish her off, Eros. Make her feel every drop."

I drink and drink, and Naomi shrieks with delight as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through her, drowning her, shattering whatever was left of her composure, while Keila's palm never stops its work against my skin. Finally, Naomi goes still beneath me, spent, and Keila's hand softens to something closer to a caress as we wait for Naomi to find her way back to herself.

Naomi lies slumped over me, her limbs heavy and unresponsive, though the muscles low in her body still twitch faintly against my mouth. A weak, dazed giggle slips out of her, her thoughts clearly still drifting somewhere in the aftermath of what just happened.

She goes still by degrees, her breathing slowing as the storm es through her. She stays draped across me, a warm, exhausted weight of soft curves and spent muscle, letting out the occasional faint sigh of contentment. Her long hair falls loose across my neck, carrying the mingled scent of her shampoo and the musk we've made together.

To be continued in chapter 13...