Page 56 of SummerTime Madness
We kiss–sloppy, hungry, brutal.
I feel him shudder against us, caught in the current of her desire. A mess of spit, heat, and breath as we devour each other over her body. Cordelia doesn’t spit, but commands.
With a glance, a breath, a pulse from her body–she guides us.
I lower her gently to the stage. Our Queen sinks onto her knees with no shame–only hunger. Her hands greedily release our hard cocks.
Her fingers curl around us both, greedy and reverent. She strokes us in sync, slow and deliberate, before bringing our cocks to her lips.
Then–her lips part.
We both gasp as she takes us together–her mouth wide, her throat swallowing, and filaments blooming around us. Chase and I both cup a side of her face, feeling her cheeks hollow just as she takes us deeper. Hooking our thumbs on the side of her lips, we help her with the tasks.
Saliva and translucent filaments spill from her lips.
Small filaments wrap around our lengths as she sucks us deeper, the tendrils hike up her throatand wrap around our shafts. The pleasure of the stimulation is unbearable.
It’s unreal.
Like being fucked by something ancient.
Chase moans my name as I fist her braids, my nails digging into her scalp. The pleasure scorches up my spine like molten lava, and she pulls us deeper.
Her bloom begins here.
With our cocks in her throat and the world falling apart around her, Cordelia continues to suck us, choking slightly. Her moans vibrate against our skin, causing Chase to whimper and me to moan. She pulls away with a wet gasp, strings of spit and spores stretching from her lips.
Her tongue flashes–the muscle split as she laps up the saliva, pre-cum, and fungal slime with a smile that feels like blasphemy. “Now.” she breathes, voice shredded from desire.
Slowly, she rises to her feet, skin glowing. Not just from sweat and arousal–but power. She turns her back to us, slipping off her thong and tossing it to the waiting crowd, before bending over the mic stand, hands braced and dress hiked up.
Exposing her glistening brown core.
Welcoming. Offering. Daring.
Ours to devour.
Ours to worship.
To ruin.
Chase steps forward first, wasting no time as he buries himself inside her with a broken moan. She arches against him as if lightning just struck her back. I move behind him, my hand moves under the spot they connect and gathers the juices that leak down her cunt.
Bringing my soaked hand back up, I spit on it–mixing us like some kind of twisted lube and massaging it around him before pressing my finger into his tight hole, making sure to prep him just a bit. He groans into her skin as I swirl my thumb inside him. I lean into his ass and softly bite into his flesh before rising to my feet and using the remainder of lube to spread down my length, and then I slowly press into him.
“Good boy,” Cordelia moans. “Taking him so well.” She continues to praise our good boy as I fill him with me.
Chase's body trembles between us. “So tight,” I breathe, my eyes crossing as his virgin ass grips my cock tighter than any vice.
“You’re doing so well, baby.” Cordelia and I moan in sync. “So well.”
We are a chain. A circuit. A ritual.
Cordelia moans so loud itshatters over the music.
The mic catches it. Amplifies it. And spreads it.
“Welcome,” she gasps into the mic. Her voice splits and doubles as Chase fucks her violently into the stand. “....the queen.”
