Gossips

Meadow was on the phone, barely glancing our way. Kelly snatched it, killed the line, and hauled her over. "Time for gossip," she said, then claimed Meadow’s mouth. Their kiss split open. Lips parted. Tongues slid, wet, insistent. Meadow gasped and Kelly chased the sound straight down her throat. Hands fumbled, shirts tugged, until Meadow’s tits spilled bare. Kelly caught a nipple between her teeth—tease, then bite—and Meadow answered with a needy whimper, hips already rocking forward. I stepped in close. Two mouths found me at once, hungry and fast. They stripped my belt, shoved denim down, and my cock sprang free. No pause, no talk. Kelly dropped to her knees and swallowed the head in one smooth push while Meadow reached between her legs, fingers parting her own soaked lips. She brought her slick hand back up, coated my shaft, and fed it back to Kelly’s open mouth. The sound of slick suction filled the room. Meadow pushed two fingers inside herself, pumping in rhythm with the bobbing mouth. She kissed me again—messy, bruising—then broke away to lick a stripe across my chest before turning Kelly’s face up. They swapped spit and cock in turn, lips brushing together every time they passed it between them. Meadow slipped behind me, pressed her bare skin to my back, and reached around to cup my balls as Kelly took me deeper, throat working, tears gleaming in her lashes. The phone lay dark on the floor. Nothing else existed but wet skin, heated breath, and three bodies colliding, pulling pleasure from each other until the first low groan tore from my chest.