Technically, this is Live Action Mannequin Part Two, but I couldn’t resist the title that popped into my head this afternoon. No idea where it came from. Yes, I could’ve used it for something else, but it’s perfect for this story.
I didn’t get to see much of the neighborhood Lawrence lived in. He zipped us into the driveway and garage so fast, I felt a little worried for about ten seconds. Then we were out of the car and into the house lickety-split. Once inside, Lawrence stripped off his jacket and tie, which he hung up as soon as we were inside, then started unbuttoning his shirt.
“Come on in ladies, make yourselves at home.” Once his shirt was off, Lawrence stopped stripping long enough to pour us shots from his collection of whiskey. “Let’s have some fun, yeah?”
We tapped our glasses together, slugged them down. Heat saturated me, bubbling up from my belly and throughout my limbs. I started burning, but not in a bad way. Desire flooded my synapses and exploded between my thighs. I run my hand down the front of Ronnie’s body.
“I think we’re overdressed compared to him.” I bit my lip and started stripping her from her clothing. Lucky for Ronnie, her work attire was good enough to be worn to the show. I pulled her close and unclasped the front of her work pants. “Sexy woman.”
As I pulled out her blouse, Lawrence slipped up behind me and brushed my hair back over my shoulder. “Can I kiss your neck?” The warmth of his breath tickled against my sensitive skin. I tilt my head to the side and give him all the access he needs. Ronnie leans forward and runs her tongue along my jaw, to my ear, and then nibbles on the lobe. Being sandwiched in between the two of them brings a huge rush of need.
I stand there, four hands, two sets of lips, and two warm bodies rubbing and touching me. Within moments I’m naked and they’ve changed places. Lawrence is now in front of me, kissing me in a way I’d never been kissed. If I were to ask to rank the best kisses I’ve experienced in my life, Ronnie would cover the top five. But the way Lawrence kissed me felt as though he were drinking my soul, my desire, inflaming my need for him.
“Can I taste you, Betsy?” The whispered words against my lips were lost on me for a few moments. I wondered what it would feel like to have Lawrence use his mouth on my pussy. Unable to speak, and hardly capable of breathing, I nod.
“Let’s move this somewhere more comfortable, Lawrence.” Ronnie’s voice sounded commanding to my ears and I pressed myself against her. Before I knew it, Lawrence swept me up into his arms and carried me down the hall. He laid me down on the biggest bed I’d ever seen.
Before I could settle into a comfortable position, their hands and mouths were back on my body, tasting and teasing me into a moaning, squirming mass of sensitized flesh. Ronnie took control of my breasts and mouth while Lawrence was taking his time tasting the sticky mess that covered my inner thighs.
Two mouths. Four hands. I couldn’t get over being in the middle. Is this how Ronnie felt when Lawrence and I worked her over until she forgot anything other than orgasmic bliss existed in the world? My nipples ached. Ronnie kept switching from one to the other, never giving enough attention to either. My hips couldn’t go any wider, yet I kept trying to spread myself open so that Lawrence would get the hint that I wanted him to tongue-fuck me into oblivion.
“Baby, do you want Lawrence to taste you? He’s been asking?” Ronnie’s voice pierced my mind and I moaned, hoping she would understand that I wanted him. I wanted a man. Yes, I wanted his mouth on my clit, I wanted his lips teasing my labia. I wanted his tongue buried inside me.
“Say yes, baby. Say yes if you want Lawrence to tongue-fuck you.” I nodded, but that wasn’t enough for her. She asked again and again. “You gotta say the words, baby.”
“Yes, oh fuck please, yes.” Before I got out the second yes, Lawrence descended to feast upon my soaked pussy. Strong hands held me in place so well I could barely wiggle my hips. Ronnie grabbed my wrists and held them above my head.
“Do you want to taste me, baby?” She knew the answer was always yes to that, but I opened my mouth and lifted my head. After shifting herself, she teased me, pussy just out of reach of my tongue. “How bad do you want to taste me Betsy?”
I had taunted her in just such a way while she was being eaten out by Lawrence. “Please, Ronnie, let me taste you. I’ll do anything.” I gave her my best pout and sex eyes. Ronnie had a calculating look on her face, though. She’d completely forgotten about teasing me as the gears turned in her head.
Lawrence distracted me as he slid two fingers inside and tickled my happy spot. Arching my back, pressing my head against the pillows, I begged and pleaded for release. I was so close, just a little more, one more twitch or him sucking on my clit was all I needed.
“Anything, Betsy?” Ronnie rocked her hips back and forth in my face. I wanted to taste her so bad, regardless of the crazy amount of pleasure I was receiving from Lawrence. He was teasing and keeping me on the edge of a blade so sharp I thought I might split open from the anticipating of orgasm.
“Oh yes, baby, anything for you. Anything taste you.” I gasped out and sucked in a deep breath only to have it leave me in a whoosh as another wave of need assaulted my senses. Ronnie lowered her snatch to my face and I moaned my need into her wet pussy, tasting her salty sweetness on my tongue.
I licked and sucked and nibbled on her as though she were a feast and I was starving. Lawrence wiggled his fingers again and I moaned into her snatch. Ronnie let my wrists go and grabbed onto the headboard. Her panting turned into moans. Every time Lawrence stroked my g-spot, I moaned into Ronnie’s pussy and she would grind into me. My chin was covered in her juices and my saliva. I couldn’t get enough of her slick snatch.
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