My Taboo Harem! - Chapter 236 - 236: The Tops (r-18)

“COMING—COMING—FUCK—PHEI—YOUR FINGERS—” Sierra wailed, voice cracking high and desperate, hand squeezing his balls tight enough to make him growl deep in his chest, the heavy sac tightening under her grip like it was ready to unload.

Phei’s rhythm built to insanity—faster, harder, deeper—fiery crimson cock hammering Maddie’s pussy without end, veins glowing brighter like molten lava with every in-and-out, stretching her lips thin on the invasion, dragging liquid fire on the retreat.

Squirt sprayed endless—every thrust forcing explosive geysers, clear floods soaking Sierra’s legs too as she stood pressed against him, his mouth back on her breasts—sucking one nipple deep into his throat while teeth clamped and tugged, fingers fucking her pussy raw in perfect sync.

The phone captured it all—the three of them tangled in raw, feral heat: Phei railing Maddie into oblivion with the Fiery Cock, Sierra writhing under his kisses and fingers, her hand worshipping his jiggling, tightening balls as the endless squirting, screams, and wet slaps filled the penthouse.

Maddie shattered again—screaming hoarsely, body convulsing in total overload, pussy clamping hard around the burning girth as squirt flooded out in a massive geyser that splashed Sierra’s thighs and the cabinets.

Sierra came seconds later—walls fluttering wildly around his fingers, crying out against his shoulder in a broken wail, hand squeezing his balls tight enough to make him growl, the sac pulsing violently under her palm.

But Phei didn’t stop.

The Fiery Cock pulsed hotter—veins glowing like living embers, heat radiating through both women—thrusting in and out of Maddie with even more brutal force, fingers still pumping Sierra relentlessly, mouth claiming every inch of her body as the recording rolled on, capturing their complete, utter, fiery surrender.

Phei’s last thrust buried him deeper into her pussy—brutal inches slamming home—and Maddie’s whole body locked up, a choked sob catching in her throat as her walls fluttered helplessly around the searing heat.

The stretch burned, her pussy lips stretched thin and red around the thick crimson base, inner folds clinging desperately to every pulsing vein.

She maoned—high, raw, broken—hips twitching involuntarily, ass cheeks clenching tight as fresh slick gushed out around him in hot, messy pulses.

He stayed buried a long second—both breathing hard, ragged gasps filling the sudden quiet—before he slowly dragged out.

The wet, sucking schlick was loud and hot—thick strands of cream and her release stretching between them in glistening ropes, then snapping with a soft pop, splattering onto the marble in sticky puddles that spread slowly under the light.

He stepped back. His cock bobbed heavily—still flushed dark crimson and glistening, veins standing out like carved ropes, pre-cum and her cream dripping in slow, viscous strings from the slit down the underside, pooling at the base where his balls hung heavy and slick.

He looked… wrecked. Chest heaving, sweat beading on his skin, purple eyes too bright, pupils blown wide with raw need.

Without a word he hooked the nearest barstool, dragged it over—the sharp scrappe on tile made Maddie flinch at the thought of the next psoition—and dropped onto it like his legs might give out otherwise.

Legs splayed wide, back braced against the counter edge, he sat there a moment—head tipped back, throat working as he swallowed hard, cum welling at the small slit of his cock, mixing with everything she’d left on him in a shiny, sticky glaze that dripped slowly down his shaft.

His gaze found Sierra.

It wasn’t smooth or practiced. It was hungry. Almost uncertain for half a heartbeat—like he was asking without words.

She crossed the distance on shaky legs before either of them could second-guess it. He reached out, hand curling around her waist, and lifted. Effortlessly like before—but there was a tiny grunt, a flicker of strain in his bicep, still a human despite everything.

Her skirt zipper was already half-undone; he yanked once and the fabric gave with a sharp rip. The skirt puddled at her ankles. Knee-high socks stayed—dark and clinging, the thin fabric translucent with her arousal, clinging to her thighs like a second skin.

He pulled her closer. Positioned her. Then—hesitated. Just a fraction. Long enough for Sierra’s breath to hitch.

Then he pulled her up onto the counter.

Her knees found the counter on either side of his head.

She hovered there—pussy was now inches from his mouth—trembling.

His hands found her ass—thumbs digging in deep, spreading her wide—cheeks parting to expose her dripping cunt, lips swollen from the ealier fingering and dark pink, clit engorged and throbbing, entrance fluttering with every shaky breath, slick dripping in thick strands onto his waiting tongue.

He guided. Slow. Deliberate.

Let her feel every inch of the descent until her swollen lips kissed his mouth.

He pulled her up again for a tease before pulling her forward again—positioned her directly over his face—and dropped her down onto him in one smooth, possessive motion.

His tongue didn’t spear straight in.

He licked first—broad, slow, tasting her like he was starving and trying to memorize it at the same time. A long, filthy drag from her entrance up over her clit—tongue flat and thick, collecting every drop of her thick, sweet slick in one greedy stroke. Sierra’s hips jerked forward involuntarily—a sharp, needy cry escaping her.

“Phei—” Her voice cracked. Not a scream. A broken whisper. Her fingers found his chest, slid over sweat-slick muscle, and stayed there—holding on like he was the only solid thing left.

He groaned against her—low, ragged—and finally pushed his tongue inside. Deep. Curling. Not mechanical thrusts, but searching strokes—tongue plunging in and out, curling against her front wall, stroking every sensitive ridge inside her while his nose ground against her clit.

When he found her G-spot, he stayed. Pressed. Licked in slow, filthy circles—tongue lashing the spongy spot over and over, lips sealed tight around her entrance, sucking her slick straight into his mouth.

Sierra’s hips rolled before she could stop them—small, helpless rocks at first, then faster, needier. Wet sounds built—soft schlick-schlick-schlick as she ground down, chasing it, her pussy lips parting wider around his tongue, clit grinding against his nose in frantic circles.

Her nails scraped lightly over his pecs; she felt them jump under her palms.

Maddie watched. Still swaying on her feet. Thighs slick, pussy still pulsing with aftershocks. She took one step. Then another.

Until she stood between his knees, facing Sierra.

She turned, Sierra facing her back now.

She reached back—fingers trembling—wrapped them around the scorching base of him. The heat made her hiss.

She guided the head to her entrance anyway. Pressed down just enough for the crown to part her—lips stretching thin around the bloated head, a whine slipping out when the thickest part popped through.

“Still… so fucking hot,” she breathed. Not a moan. A shaky confession.

She sank slowly. Inch by inch. Lips stretching thin. A whine slipped out when the thickest part popped through. Her free hand slapped the counter for balance; the other stayed on him, holding him steady like she was afraid he’d slip away.

Phei’s hand left Sierra’s ass—came down hard on Maddie’s ass cheek with a sharp crack. Not theatrical. Just sudden. Possessive. The print bloomed fast—red blooming across her pale skin. Maddie gasped, arched, and dropped another inch on her own.

He found her breast without looking—cupped it roughly, thumb brushing over the abused nipple. Maddie shuddered hard, grabbed her other tit herself, squeezed until the flesh spilled between her fingers, and started moving.

Not perfect rhythm. Not porn-star bounces.

Real. Desperate. A little clumsy.

Her ass slapped his thighs—wet, uneven impacts, loud slap-slap-slap as she rode him, cream frothing thicker at the base with every downward slide, pulling a raw, guttural sound from her throat.

Sierra rode his face harder—hips circling, grinding her clit against his nose, then his tongue, then back again. No choreography. Just chasing. Her thighs started quivering; she leaned forward, forehead almost touching Maddie’s shoulder, breathing in sharp, ragged pants.

“Phei—fuck—don’t stop—please—” Sierra’s voice splintered. Not commanding. Begging.

Maddie’s rhythm faltered—she clenched hard around him, eyes squeezing shut. “I’m—shit—I’m gonna—”

She didn’t finish the sentence. Her whole body seized. Squirted in messy, uncontrolled arcs—splashing his abs, dripping down his thighs, hitting the floor in loud patters. She kept rocking through it, sloppy and shaking, tears streaking her cheeks.

Sierra broke maybe three seconds later—pussy fluttering wildly, squirting straight into his mouth. He drank—messy gulps, some spilling down his chin—growling low against her as she ground down harder, smothering him, nails digging crescents into his chest.

They weren’t perfectly synced.

Maddie’s hips stuttered. Sierra’s circles turned erratic. Their cries overlapped, clashed—high and low, wrecked and needy—blurring into something raw and human.

Phei’s hands tightened on both of them. Not gentle. Not cruel. Just… holding. Claiming. Like he was afraid they’d slip away if he let go.

He thrust up into Maddie—hard, even with her thrusts—while his tongue kept working Sierra in deep, hungry licks. No metronome precision. Just need.

They came again—messy, out of time, gushing over him, over each other, soaking the counter, the stool, the floor. Loud. Sloppy. Real.

And when the aftershocks finally started to fade, none of them moved right away.

Sierra’s forehead dropped to Maddie’s shoulder. Maddie’s hand found Sierra’s thigh from behind—squeezed weakly.