Chapter 174: Sage, Who? (18 plus)

Chapter 174: Chapter 174: Sage, Who? (18 plus)


The silence stretched for a long, heavy moment, thick with the scent of their shared arousal hanging in the air of Ingrid’s dimly lit lounge room. The only sounds were their ragged breaths.


Zaeryn cherished this moment too, he watched Ingrid, her head back, her eyes closed, just feeling the sensation of him buried deep inside her. He could feel her tight, virgin walls pulsing gently around his cock, and his own body was screaming at him to move.


’I can’t believe this is happening right now. How lucky am I?’ Ingrid thought to herself as she closed her eyes in pleasure. She didn’t need to move to feel pleasured by him with how big he was. ’I want... to stay like this... forever.’ she thought to herself.


"Okay," she panted, her voice dropping to a low purr. "Moments cherished."


She leaned forward, her palms pressing firmly into his shoulders, nails digging in just enough to pin him in place. Her hips shifted with deliberate slowness, rolling forward in a languid grind that dragged her slick clit along the thick base of his throbbing cock. The movement made her gasp, the friction igniting sparks of pleasure that drew a deep, throaty moan from her lips, and in that instant, she felt herself climax, her body shuddering as waves of ecstasy crashed through her, clenching tight around him in blissful release.


"Oh, Marea," she breathed, her voice a shattered whisper as the last tremor faded, leaving her trembling and satisfied. ’Goddess, he’s too huge. I don’t know if I can last long like this.’ she thought, the realization of his size hitting her even harder now that her body had betrayed her with an accidental climax.


She was worried she might be undone before he was, which meant Zaeryn might not be satisfied. Seeing how quickly her body had responded and how he hadn’t even started moving yet, a frantic urgency replaced her earlier bliss. She had to regain control, not just of her body, but of the entire encounter.


With a sharp, shaky exhale, she pushed herself up and slid off his lap, turning to face him. She ignored the embarrassing dampness on his pants and her own trembling state. Her stormy eyes, now wide and electric, were fixed on his.


"Okay," she said, her voice surprisingly steady, despite the lingering tremor in her limbs. "Are you ready? I’m going to make you forget about Sage. I’ll be your second girlfriend from now on, deal?"


Zaeryn was about to respond, but then she moved her hips and instead his back arch involuntarily, a deep, guttural groan tearing from his chest as his fingers clenched on her hips, urging him to thrust upward into her pussy.


"Ah-ah," Ingrid stopped him, her tone sharpening in that sensual tone. She captured his lips in a deep, lingering kiss, her tongue invading his mouth with possessive strokes before she pulled back just enough to whisper against his parted lips, her breath hot and teasing. "Don’t move. I want to be in control."


"Why is that?" Zaeryn asked teasingly, brushing her lips.


"My house," she murmured, her gaze drifting downward to the intimate point where their bodies connected, her pussy lips stretched wide around the hard length of his cock, glistening with her juices that coated him from root to tip. "My dare... my turn." She lifted her eyes to meet him, blazing with a fierce, possessive fire that dared him to challenge her. "I’m in control here, anomaly."


The command hung between them. He was to remain utterly still, a vessel for her desires. And Zaeryn didn’t mind, not one bit.


This thrilled him even more, his cock twitching deep inside her velvet grip as he forced his body to obey.


"I’m going to do almost everything," she declared, her voice a husky promise laced with dark intent, her walls clenching around him in a teasing squeeze that made his breath hitch.


She began with her hips, circling them in torturously slow rotations, grinding her soaked pussy down onto his shaft. The motion smeared her arousal along his length, her clit rubbing insistently against his pubic bone with each pass, building a slow burn of ecstasy that had her own breath coming in sharp gasps.


Slowly at first, almost unsure of what to do, she lifted herself up, her inner thighs trembling as she rose just enough to feel the drag of his cock sliding partway out of her clenching heat. Then she sank back down, deliberate and exploratory, savoring the way her pussy walls fluttered and tightened around every inch of him, learning the exact girth and texture that filled her so completely.


"Goddess, you feel so good Zaeryn, I can’t think straight," she moaned, her juices trickled down, soaking his balls as she adjusted, her body adapting to the invasion with hungry greed. "Like this?" She asked, almost like a student.


"Yes, you’re doing great," Zaeryn growled, his hand coming up to cup one of her bare, pierced breasts. He flicked the silver barbell with his thumb.


Ingrid cried out, her back arching. That dual sensation, the deep fullness and the sharp pinch on her nipple, seemed to unlock something. Confidence bloomed in her movements. She found her rhythm.


Now she rolled her hips back and forth without restraint, her ass cheeks flexing with each forward push that buried him deeper, her pussy swallowing him whole in slick, rhythmic strokes. She leaned back slightly, her other hand bracing on his chest for leverage.


A hiss escaped Zaeryn’s mouth as he felt her, felt the exquisite vise of her cunt milking him, her juices dripping copiously. The wet, slapping sounds of their joining filled the room like obscene music. Her pace quickened, her clit grinding harder against him, chasing her own pleasure.


Zaeryn stayed unmoving, obeying her rule, beads of sweat tracing paths down his chest. His body was a taut wire of restrained need.


Ingrid’s breaths turned to moans, loud and unrestrained as she claimed him fully, her pussy rippling around his length.


The sounds, so close, finally stirred the woman on the floor.


Zaeryn glanced over. Genevieve was sitting up, her sated flush replaced by a new, hungry haze. Her shirt was still open, her bare breasts visible. She was watching them, her gaze hot and appreciative, as Ingrid rode him shamelessly.


"Oh wow. I’m so jealous right now," she confessed, her voice a husky purr. ’I have to get fucked by that cock next,’ she thought, her hand moving to pinch her own nipple.


Ingrid, hearing her audience, didn’t stop. If anything, it made her ride harder, her movements becoming more possessive. "It’s my turn now, Genevieve," she panted, her breasts, now free, resting on his face. "So please... don’t interrupt."


"I’m just going to watch," Genevieve said, shifting to get a better view. "After he is done with you, it should be my turn. Right, Zaeryn?"


Zaeryn, trapped, impaled by Ingrid, his mind reeling from the sight of one naked woman riding him while another naked woman watched and asked for next, was too ecstatic to really think straight. He just grunted his agreement. "Sure."


’Goddess,’ he thought, his body tensing as Ingrid slammed down again. Although really, he didn’t know if after Ingrid was done with him, he would have enough left.


The lounge room was filled with the sound of skin slamming against skin. The relentless rhythm of Ingrid’s hips, each downward slam driving Zaeryn’s cock deeper into her soaking heat with a lewd, wet smack that reverberated through the room. Her pussy clenched around him in greedy pulses, walls fluttering and milking his throbbing length as if determined to wring every drop of pleasure from him before he could even think to resist.


Sweat glistened on her skin, trickling down the curve of her back and pooling where their bodies met, her arousal dripping in rivulets that soaked his balls and stained the couch cushions beneath them.


’Fuck, she’s good at this already,’ Zaeryn thought, his mind a haze of raw ecstasy and surrender. He fought every instinct to buck upward, his fingers digging into the sofa’s armrest instead of her hips, honoring her command even as his cock twitched violently inside her, begging for release.


The sight of her, breasts bouncing with each grind, nipples hard and begging for his mouth, her face twisted in dominant bliss, pushed him to the edge of sanity. But he wanted this to last longer so he didn’t take control yet, letting her control the pace.


Ingrid’s moans grew louder, more feral, echoing off the walls as she chased her second peak. "That’s it... stay still for me, anomaly," she growled, her voice husky and broken by gasps. She leaned forward, smashing her tits against his chest, her nails raking red lines down his shoulders as she ground her clit furiously against his base.


The friction built like a storm, her inner muscles spasming in prelude to climax. "You’re mine tonight. Sage who? She’d better accept that she has competition."