Carpool Overload

The five women pile up outside Blake's place in a knot of cheap perfume and clenched fists. Rachael Cavalli pushes first, hair twisted like she just rolled out of bed, heels sharp enough to stab ribs. Adira Allure crowds her side, blouse unbuttoned one button too many, eyes already half-lidded. Whitney OC, pale skin flushed, practically climbs Adira's back to get closer, muttering curses. Andi Avalon claps a hand on Blake's car door handle like she owns it. Taylor Vixxen, last in line, whispers something filthy that makes even Blake's eyebrows twitch. Blake rubs his jaw, knuckles white on the keys. "One seat. Draw straws, I don't care." No one moves. Rachael drops the act first. She shoves forward, palms Blake through his slacks in one unhurried stroke, and murmurs, "You like my mouth, right? Let me slide over and show you how much." Adira shoulders in next, nails dragging up his thigh, voice low and filthy: "I'll ride your lap the whole way, won’t even buckle." Whitney's already on her knees on the cold pavement, tugging his zipper down, breath hot against denim. Andi reaches under her skirt, pulls her thong aside, shows him she's bare and ready. Taylor leans in close, tongue flicking his ear, "If you fuck me right now, the others will still fight. If you pick me, they get nothing." Blake's keys hit the pavement. The women swarm. Rachael drops to suck him deep, lips stretched, spit running down his shaft. Adira hikes her skirt, straddles his thigh and grinds wet heat against his skin, fingers tangled in his hair. Whitney slides two fingers inside herself, feeding them to Blake's mouth, whispering instructions. Andi palms his balls while licking his neck; Taylor climbs onto the hood, legs spread, daring him to choose. There's no decision, not yet. Just Blake, back against the driver's door, knees weak, and four mouths, five bodies, each wanting the same thing. Fingertips claw fabric. Panting. Sweat. Slaps of skin. Whitney straddles him first, sinks down, rides hard, hips snapping, cunt tight around him. Rachael grips Blake's throat and feeds her tongue into his mouth while he gets fucked. Andi and Taylor trade off on his fingers. The car rocks, windows fog, engine still cold. Every slam of flesh is louder than traffic, and none of them are looking at the clock. The only race that matters now is who comes first.