Poking & Stroking

Lily and Demi are already stripped down on the massage table, trading wet kisses, soft gasps, hands sliding everywhere that matters. Light wet sounds fill the room, skin slapping, breath gone ragged. Tyler steps through the door and freezes, his eyes glued to the scene, dick swelling fast against his jeans, memorizing every moan and spread of thighs for later. Lily catches him and a wicked little smirk lifts her mouth. "Get under the table," she tells him, voice low and velvet rough. Tyler doesn't argue. He drops flat, threads two fingers up through the carved hole in the wood. They find slick heat fast, push deep. Lily's hips jump, her moan stabbing the air, hips rolling to ride the surprise invasion. He works her quick and filthy, knuckles brushing her walls until she's dripping onto his wrist. When he pulls away she’s breathless, but already smiling like she’s only just getting started. Tyler retreats to the other room and jerks off like he’s starving, replaying every second, his fist moving hard to her slick on his fingers. Later, the girls catch him half naked and humping the arm of their couch, sweat gleaming across his stomach, cock sliding wet over fabric. They trade a glance, then yank him back to the table. Clothes disappear. Tyler ends up under again, this time staring straight up at Lily’s dripping center through the hole. She lowers, wraps her lips tight around his cock and sucks him like she wants to bruise him. Her cheeks hollow. Her tongue swirls the head every time she comes back up, saliva running down his shaft in shiny lines. From behind her Demi kneels, fingers working her open, the wet sounds filthy and loud. Tyler’s hands grip the underside of the table, knuckles white, breath hitching through clenched teeth while Lily swallows him deeper, inch by hungry inch.