Anikka's Cuckold POV, Scene #03

She's already moaning when you walk in—Dana flat on the bed in that shiny black mesh, boots still on, legs spread, two fingers sunk deep. Your tiny dick twitches in your pants. She catches you and smirks. 'Couldn't even knock, pervert? Or maybe that pinky won't wait.' The lacy thong is tugged aside so you can see how slick she is; she lifts a finger and wipes it under your nose. 'Smell it. That's what a real cock tastes like later. Go on. Take a big, desperate whiff.' She spreads wider, heels clacking together. 'Is that how you greet your master?' The question hits like spit. You dip closer; her scent is hot, dark, dizzying. 'Get the chair,' she says. You drag it into the corner like a trained dog. Dana reaches into her nightstand and pulls out the glass plug, coating it in her own cream. She works it in with a low growl. Just as the thick end stretches her, the bedroom door opens and Anikka appears in a white silk robe that drops to the floor. Nothing underneath—just miles of sun-tanned ass and that knowing smirk. 'Nice timing,' Anikka says, climbing up behind Dana so they’re both facing you. 'You’re gonna sit and watch, you fuckin’ perverted little dog.' She dips three fingers into Dana’s stretched hole, fucks them in slow circles. Dana moans straight at you. 'God, he’s hard already. That worthless clit’s trying to salute. Look at it jump—Mr. Little Dick.' Anikka leans in and tongues Dana’s stretched rim around the plug, wet and deliberate. Dana gasps and spits on her own palm, then rubs the spit down between her tits so the nipples gleam. Anikka swallows one of them, sucks hard, leaves a red mark you know you’ll have to stare at later while they ignore you. They trade places. Dana buries her mouth in Anikka’s shaved pussy while Anikka talks to you. 'Bet your tiny prick aches just thinking about this perfect cunt. Too bad, Fuckin’ Asshole—you just get the view.' Dana pushes two thick silver toys into Anikka, twists them, then feeds one slick bead into her own ass beside the plug, grunting at the stretch. The room fills with wet sounds, wet slaps, the low buzz of a vibrator pressed to Anikka’s clit. Anikka’s thighs tremble. She lifts up on her knees and stares straight down at you. 'Want to come, dog? Fine. Count with me. Ten… nine…' The vibe clicks higher; both women spread and ride their own hands, shiny, open, merciless. 'Eight. Seven. Six.' Your dick is leaking down your thigh—you didn’t even free it from your boxers. 'Five. Four.' You’re stroking, frantic now, the friction loud in your ears. 'Three.' Anikka spits on Dana’s ass. Dana shoves the plug deeper. 'Two.' Your knees shake. 'One.' They both cry out, coming hard, hips jerking, and the order cracks like a whip: 'Cum. Now.' Your orgasm rips through you and lands in wet ropes across your own stomach while they laugh and keep grinding on each other, not even looking at the mess you made.