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Tri-st (formerly Three Of Them)
🕑 Added 2020-02-19 17:00:00 +0000 UTCThere are three of them you have to worry about. Felicia is five foot nine, so statuesque that it almost compensates for how well-endowed she is, with long white hair trickling down over full breasts and sloping shoulders, but not a hint of it anywhere else on her pale body.
Then there’s Karen, athletic, even muscular, as tall as you are at six foot four. Her breasts are as big as Felicia’s, easily, but seem perfectly proportioned with how nicely thick her physique is. Considering how much her costume usually shows off of her legs, her ass, and most especially her bust, it seems like a hidden treat that without it, you can see a blonde landing strip over her pussy, like a nugget of panned gold in the flawless tanned skin that covers her.
Finally, there’s Betsy, five foot five, so delicately sculpted, so pretty in her flowering way, that her face is almost more of an attraction than her body. She has long lashes, jet black hair, almond eyes that shine violet, and skin white as china, in stark contrast to the aforementioned features, as well as the trimmed pubic hair in a jungle shade of purple. She looks through you as you look at her, like she isn’t even regarding you, but her body is turned so you can see her ass, full and girthy, but with the youthful tautness of a teenager.
So you begin with her, gripping her by that fat ass and drawing her close until you can fit a hot kiss to her cupid’s-bow lips. She accepts it unflinchingly, her mouth shut, her body rigid, until you pull away from her and see the flicker of excitement in her fathomless eyes. In her own poised way, she’s as hot for you as Karen and Felicia.
“Man, why do they always go for the Asian chicks first?” Felicia mutters.
You feel out Betsy’s tits, subtle compared to Karen and Felicia’s, and for some reason that makes you touch them with strange delicacy. It’s exciting in its own way, the svelteness of them, the modest weight fitted so elegantly to her willowy body. Then you move down to her taut belly, wonderfully soft to a light touch, but firm as steel when you put down enough pressure to feel the muscle underneath.
Then you’re down in the gully of her sex, warm and wet enough to be slick, bare and smooth as a riverbed. You search it thoroughly, tracing your fingertips along the tender lines of her slit until you come to her clitoris, which you rub with two fingers, your big blocky fingertips seeming to dwarf the little target you’ve centered on.
No one can resist the skilled insistence of your touch, not when you’ve found the perfect spot for it. For all her inscrutable coyness, Betsy begins to shift her weight uneasily, moving away from the intensity of the sensation, then giving into it, bending into your body like the closer she gets, the better it will feel.
“So much feeling,” she whines, lust deepening her voice. “When are you gonna fuck me?”
“Soon,” you promise.
You hold to her as you sit down, pulling her into your lap, so of course she feels your growing erection right between the cheeks of her big ass—bulging so hugely from her slender frame that of course she makes a show of it, with her uniform sliding between her buttocks like a goddamn thong. It’s a wonder you haven’t shoved your cock into that deep valley sooner.
You pull Betsy back against your chest and she’s short enough that the crown of her head is underneath your chin, like she’s a kid telling Santa she’s been good. You hold her firmly, as if she’s going anywhere, with one hand on her sculpted breasts and the other deep between her firm thighs, pushing on her groin so her ass rubs against your swelled manhood. You smell her hair. She stops trying to be quiet.
Felicia and Karen are still silent, but the atmosphere in here is changing from resentment over Betsy hogging your attentions to a naughty lewdness from getting to watch. Arousal was creeping into them, increasing their interest in the proceedings. They come a little closer, bending over to see what you’re doing. You don’t know what you’re going to do with them, but they seem to know what they’re going to do to you.
You almost wish Betsy was in her costume, just so you could slide your hand underneath its thong like you always wanted to do, but it’s still spectacular to bring your hand to her womanhood and ease your finger inside. She’s wet, smooth, hot, the muscles inside so tight it’s almost like she’s trying to keep you out, but you push until as much of her inner folds as possible have given into the pressure. Betsy breathes hard with your middle finger pitched inside her.
You spit into your other hand, then bring it down between your bodies, pushing your erection out of the way to touch between her buttocks. You circle your wet finger around the rim of her anus, lubricating it, then exploring it, your finger slipping in with even more difficulty than when you invaded her pussy. Betsy’s moaning now. You kiss her bare shoulder and she moans even louder with the affection.
“But he’s only got one cock,” Felicia commented to Karen, loud enough to be overheard. “Which hole is he getting ready for it?”
Betsy writhes abashedly, cheeks flushed and eyes averted, as if chagrinned by her own arousal. You work harder. Soon she doesn’t seem inhibited at all, only aware of you, no one else. Silence except for your heartbeat, her heartbeat, the breathing between the two of you. Felicia and Karen are now in front of Betsy, watching your hand between her legs—two fingers in her pussy, two up her ass, and your thumb stroking her stiffening clit.
With your other hand squeezing a firm thigh to hold her in place, you rock a bit against Betsy, your cock pressing into the cleft of her firm ass, sliding between her cheeks to give you warmth, pressure, and friction. Your mind, once swarming with lust, now seems a little clearer. You can simply enjoy rutting against Betsy’s perfect body while Felicia and Karen watch in awe and envy.
But you still want to fuck. And you want to look at these three sluts fucking each other the way you know they would if they weren’t enthralled by your cock. And then you want to fuck some more.
You look from girl to girl to girl again, tempted enough to look at the other women even if you don’t dare part with Betsy, not before you’re finished. Even in this crowd, she’s beautiful enough for you to focus on her to the exclusion of all else—although if it were Felicia or Karen in your arms, the situation would be the same. There isn’t a weak link in this chain. Except maybe you, since you can’t take them on three at a time, which is what those gorgeous bodies deserve.
You lift her up from your lap, pushing her to her feet so that she’s standing in front of you and that perfect ass is in your face. Then you bury your face in that delicious split between her buttocks, your tongue going below, into her cunt. You hear Betsy gasping, moaning as she shifts her weight from side to side, trying to make it easier for you to get more of your tongue inside her, but you continue the teasing licking outside her, only briefly penetrating in.
“Fuck this,” you hear Felicia say.
“What are you doing?” Karen asks, not that you know, with Betsy’s ass filling your vision—which you wouldn’t have any other way.
“I’m a thief,” Felicia replies. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
And then you feel what has to be her lips on your cockhead, her tongue entertaining it with tasty little spirals. She moans, enthralled by the flavor, and you hear Karen mutter a soft “Jesus Christ.” She must be watching closely. Maybe wishing she had thought to do that first.
You quickly bite Betsy’s well-rounded ass, getting a light squeak from her, before saying “Karen. Over here.” Gesturing with your right hand to come over.
You feel her big body looming overhead, her weight shifting the mattress as she kneels on the bed and shuffles over your hand. When she’s in position, you unerringly slap your hand between her legs, her plump little slot soaking wet and pulsing with need. Ring and middle finger slip inside her with ease—you hear her coo breathily as she rides your hand.
“That looks fun,” Felicia purrs, her sultry voice almost as good as her lips around your cockhead, and the bedsprings creak as she pads over to straddle your other hand.
You teasingly tap your fingers on the bedspread instead of going for her; impatient, she grabs your hand and yanks it between her thighs. Hardly Queensbury Rules, but you don’t care. You give her two fingers and they go in as easily as they did Karen, although she clenches on you so hard it’s like she wants you out.
The moans she lets out tell you differently, though. She sounds like she’s going into heat. Maybe that interesting bit of texture at the very top of her cunt is her G-spot. You stroke it some more and it sounds like Felicia is having an exorcism performed on her.
“Holy shit,” Karen breathes, impressed but turning her wonder into a bit of mockery, “it’s just some fingering.”
“What a slut,” Betsy adds, sounding envious, even put out that your tongue isn’t getting her off as hard as your fingers are making Felicia come.
“Lucky slut,” Felicia says, and even if the other girls can’t see the warm honey running into your palm, all of you can tell she’s orgasmed.
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