Celene's mouth replaced Seraphina's instantly, but she took a different approach—shallow, teasing licks around the ridge, then sudden hard suction that hollowed her cheeks. Her hand wrapped around the base, stroking in tight, twisting pulls while her tongue flicked the sensitive frenulum. Xavier's thighs tensed; his breath came in sharp bursts.
They began a rhythm that felt choreographed by pure lust:
Seraphina deep-throated him until her eyes streamed, Celene would followed up with fast, sloppy strokes and loud, wet suction, then they'd meet in the middle, tongues tangling around his shaft from both sides, sliding up and down in mirrored unison, lips brushing each other's as they licked.
Every time one of them pulled back to breathe, the other claimed him fully. Their enormous breasts pressed together beneath him, nipples rubbing, adding another layer of friction that made them both moan around his cock.
Between turns, conversation spilled out—filthy, intimate, breathless.
