Chapter 376: The Offering 11

Lor stood up behind them. His cock hung heavy and flushed, still wet from Olivia. He took it in his fist and gave it a slow pull while he looked at those juicy asses. The residual slickness from her made the stroke smoother than it should have been.

He started with Sophia.

"May I tear this?" he asked. He touched the pink mesh at the crotch.

"Yes," Sophia whispered. "Just do it. Quickly."

It gave with a dry rip. The white panties under it were soaked through, the cotton almost clear and pasted to her. He hooked a thumb in the gusset and pulled it to the side.

She was small and flushed and glistening, and she was already tightening and loosening on nothing.

A thin line of wet ran down the inside of one thigh and caught on the edge of the torn mesh.

He did not take her yet. He lowered himself onto his knees behind her instead, put both hands on her thighs, and set his mouth against her.

Sophia jolted so hard that her forehead hit the quilt. "Lor!"

"Mm."

"You don’t have to. You already..."

He answered by dragging his tongue slowly from her entrance up to her clit.

She tasted clean and sweet and faintly of the pink cloth, and she shivered under his hands in long, fine tremors all the way to her ankles.

When he closed his lips around her clit and sucked once, her knees slid apart on the quilt. The cold from the juice was still on his tongue. It made her jump again.

"Oh," she said. "That’s not fair."

Lia turned her head. She was watching from the side, still on her elbows.

She did not look away. "Is he doing that to you?"

Sophia did not answer.

He could feel the small, involuntary clench of her every time he circled the tip of his tongue.

"Keep going," Lia said. Her voice was lower than usual. "She’s not going to say it."

Sophia made a thin sound into the quilt. Her twin tails had fallen forward and stuck to the damp fabric.

Lor’s hands stayed on her thighs, holding her open. He did not rush. The mango was still sweet at the back of his throat.

He worked her slowly, with the flat of his tongue and then the point of it, circling and pressing.

He slid one finger into her, then two, and found her softer and looser than she had been under his hand earlier.

Her thighs began to tremble against his ears.

Lia was watching with her lip caught in her teeth and one hand moving restlessly on the quilt.

"How does it feel?" Lia asked. "Tell me."

"Hot," Sophia said. "And it keeps pulling tighter, low down, and I can’t... Lia, stop watching me."

"No."

He took his mouth away when she was loose and dripping and her breath had gone to small, wet gasps. Then he got to his feet again.

His cock hung heavy.

He laid it along Sophia and slid it through the wet, from her entrance up to her clit and back.

Sophia jerked and sucked in a breath. He did it again, slowly, and the head caught on her each time and made her hips twitch.

He took his time, watching her expressions.

Then he put one hand on her hip and the other on his cock, and he parted her cheeks with his thumb.

He pressed the head against her.

She was tight. The first push met resistance, a firm, hot give that did not want to open, and then it did, a little.

The head slipped in.

Sophia made a sound that was half gasp and half question, and her hands closed into fists on the quilt.

He watched her stretch around him.

The pink threads at the edges of the tear had caught on either side of his cock, and each push pulled them taut and bent them inward, so that the mesh traced the shape of the two of them where they joined.

He stayed still and let her adjust. Her heat clamped around the head in small, helpless pulses.

His thighs ached with the effort of holding still.

"Wait," she said. "Wait. Wait."

He stopped at once. He stayed where he was, with only the head inside her. "Too much?"

"It stings." Her voice shook. "It’s... big. Just don’t move yet."

He waited. He stroked a slow circle on her hip with his thumb. Her breathing began to even out, and under his hand he felt the tension go out of her back, one bone at a time. At twelve she exhaled hard.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Go slowly."

He pushed in another inch, then another.

She was a hot, snug, fluttering vise.

Every inch had to be earned, and every inch she gave him was wetter than the last.

Somewhere past halfway she made a thin whine and pushed back against him without meaning to, and he sank the rest of the way in one smooth slide until his hips met her ass.

The stretch was tight enough that he felt it in his stomach. She was hotter inside than she had been on his tongue.

Sophia’s head dropped between her arms. "Oh," she said. "Oh. It’s in."

"It’s in," Lor agreed. His voice was rougher than he liked. "You’re doing very well."

He could feel everything.

The slick walls gripping him, the little flutter at the base, her pulse beating against him on a slower rhythm than her breath. He drew back slowly and pushed in again.

She gasped on every stroke.

Beside them, Lia had stopped pretending to look at the wall.

She had turned her head on her arm and was watching Sophia’s face with her mouth a little open. One of her hands had slipped between her own legs. She was not moving it much. She was just holding it there.

"Does it hurt?"

"A bit." Sophia swallowed. "Not now. It’s... Lia, it’s like..." She did not finish.