Chapter 172: Chapter 172: Steamy (18 plus)
Zaeryn’s pulse thundered in his ears, his cock already twitching hard against his pants as he watched Genevieve and Ingrid bicker over the dare’s details.
He already suspected what she wanted him to do. He didn’t care about the semantics; the idea of sliding his fingers into her wet pussy and making her cum right there in front of everyone sent a rush of heat straight to his groin. No issues here he was all in.
"Zaeryn, I want you to..." Genevieve paused, her cheeks flushing deeper than before, a rare crack in her flirtatious confidence. She licked her lips, eyes darting to his. "To finger me until I cum. Right now."
He didn’t flinch. "I accept," Zaeryn said, his voice low and steady, laced with hunger. He pushed up from the carpet, his erection tenting his pants noticeably as he crossed to the plush couch in the corner of the room. The soft cushions sank under him as he sat. He turned slightly, facing the two of them."Come here, Genevieve." He patted his thighs firmly, his gaze locking onto hers with unmistakable intent. "Straddle my lap, facing away."
Genevieve’s breath hitched, her thighs clenching visibly as she rose. The air between them crackled, thick with the scent of her arousal mingling with the faint musk from the earlier dares. She sauntered over, her hips swaying, and lowered herself onto his lap. Her ass pressed directly against his bulging cock, the friction making him groan softly. "Like this?" she asked, her voice breathy, already grinding back just a fraction.
"Exactly," Zaeryn murmured, his hands gripping her waist. He twisted her gently but firmly, repositioning her so her back molded against his chest, her legs draped over his. Now she faced Ingrid, who was staring with wide eyes and parted lips, while he had unobstructed access to her body. Her round ass nestled right against his throbbing erection, and he could feel the heat radiating from her core through her pants.
A brief feeling of uncertainty crossed Genevieve’s face, but it was quickly swallowed by a wicked spark of excitement. She leaned back fully, her head lolling onto his shoulder, exposing her neck and chest. Her pulse raced under her skin, visible in the dim light, and she arched slightly, pressing her ass harder into his cock as if testing his restraint.
Zaeryn’s hands, rough and warm from anticipation, started at her thighs, squeezing the soft flesh before sliding upward. He traced the edge of her shirt, fingers dipping under to brush her bare stomach, feeling the quiver of her muscles.
She sucked in a sharp breath, her nipples already poking against the fabric. Slowly, he popped the first button of her shirt, the sound echoing in the hushed room. Then the second, revealing a sliver of her green lace bra. The third exposed the full swell of her breasts, straining the exquisite material. By the fourth and last, her shirt hung open, and he shoved it off her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor.
His fingers hooked under the bra’s straps, tugging them down. With a quick flick, he unclasped it from behind, the lace whispering away to bare her heavy tits. They spilled free, full and pale, jiggling slightly with her quickened breaths, her pink nipples already stiff and begging for attention in the cool air.
From her vantage on the nearby cushion, Ingrid watched with arms crossed tight over her own chest, her stormy eyes narrowed to slits. A twitch pulled at her jaw, envy burning hot in her gut as she shifted closer, sitting on the edge of the sofa armrest. She was inches away now, close enough to hear the wet sounds that would soon follow, her own pussy aching with neglected need.
Part of her wanted to shove Genevieve off and claim Zaeryn’s hands for herself, but the raw heat of the scene kept her rooted, thighs rubbing together discreetly.
Zaeryn cupped Genevieve’s tits from behind, his palms enveloping the soft weight, thumbs dragging roughly over her hard nipples. He squeezed, feeling them fill his hands, the skin smooth and warm. Genevieve’s head snapped back against his shoulder with a broken gasp, her body jolting. "Fuck... Zaeryn, yes, pinch them," she whimpered, her voice raw and needy.
"You like your nipples played with like this?" he growled into her ear, hot breath fanning her skin. Without waiting, he rolled the peaks between his thumbs and forefingers, twisting just enough to border on pain, then soothing with flicks of his tongue against her earlobe. Her response was immediate, a deep, throaty moan that vibrated through her chest, her nails scraping down his forearms as she gripped him hard, urging him on.
Ingrid’s face burned, a flush creeping from her neck to her cheeks. She should be pissed, Genevieve had twisted the dare into something way beyond fair play but the sight of Zaeryn’s fingers kneading those tits, Genevieve’s moans filling the room, had her own clit throbbing. She bit her lip, one hand unconsciously drifting to press against her pants, fighting the urge to touch herself.
Zaeryn kept one hand tormenting her breasts, alternating between hard pinches and gentle tugs that made her squirm on his lap, her ass grinding against his rock-hard cock. His other hand trailed lower, over the dip of her waist, across the flare of her hip, to the button of her uniform pants. He popped it open with a flick, the zipper rasping down slowly, teasingly. His fingers delved inside, pushing past the damp lace of her panties to find her slick folds.
She was drenched, her pussy lips swollen and slippery, juices coating his fingertips as he parted her. "So fucking wet for me already," he murmured, nipping at her neck. His middle finger circled her clit swollen and pulsing slow, firm strokes that had her hips bucking up into his hand.
Genevieve arched off his lap with a strangled cry, her tits bouncing in his grasp. "Zaeryn! Oh shit, right there rub me harder!" Her voice cracked, body trembling as he increased the pressure, flicking the sensitive nub side to side, then pinching it lightly between his fingers.
"Shh, let Ingrid hear how much you want it," he whispered, his lips brushing kisses along her jaw, tasting the salt of her sweat. Ingrid leaned in even closer, her breath shallow and ragged, eyes glued to where Zaeryn’s hand disappeared into Genevieve’s pants.
The wet, slick sounds of his fingers working her pussy echoed softly schlick, schlick mingling with Genevieve’s pants.
Lost in the building fire, Genevieve’s hips rolled shamelessly, fucking herself on his hand. "Gods, yes... finger my pussy, Zaeryn, make me cum all over your fingers," she begged, her free hand clutching the couch cushion, knuckles white.
He obliged, sliding his index finger deep into her tight heat, feeling her walls clench around him. He curled it upward, stroking the spot inside her while his thumb ground against her clit in relentless circles. Her juices soaked his hand, dripping down to his palm as he pumped in and out, adding a second finger to stretch her further.
Ingrid couldn’t look away, her envy twisting into pure arousal, her own nipples aching as she watched Genevieve unravel. The room felt smaller, hotter.
It hit Genevieve like a wave. Her body seized, pussy spasming around Zaeryn’s fingers as she came hard, gushing wetness over his hand. A raw, shuddering scream tore from her throat "Fuck, I’m cumming!" her tits heaving, back bowing off his chest. Waves of pleasure ripped through her, thighs quaking, until she collapsed bonelessly against him, aftershocks making her twitch.
Zaeryn eased his fingers out, slick and shining with her cum, and held her close, his cock pulsing painfully against her ass, begging for release. He kissed her temple. "Dare completed. You cum so beautifully."
Genevieve, utterly spent, slid from his lap onto the thick floor cushion beside the couch, curling into a fetal position. Her eyes were glassy, chest flushed and marked from his grip, a lazy, sated smile curving her lips as tremors still rippled through her pussy.
Zaeryn let out a shaky breath, looking down. His arousal was obvious, a hard ridge tenting the front of his uniform pants.
Ingrid, who had moved to the sofa beside him, saw it clearly. Her stormy, blue-gray eyes, dark with her own arousal from watching, met his. A slow, predatory smile touched her lips. "Well," she purred, shifting closer. "That was... very generous of you."
Her gaze dropped pointedly to his lap. "But it looks like you’re still... tense."
Her hand moved, landing lightly on his thigh. "Seems unfair for you to do all the work," she whispered. "I can take care of that for you, if you want."
"Sure," Zaeryn nodded, his voice rough.
Ingrid’s hands moved from his thigh to his zipper with practiced confidence. Her stormy, blue-gray eyes, dark with her own arousal, never left his. The sound of the zipper sliding down was deafening in the quiet lounge, a stark contrast to Genevieve’s soft, sated breathing from the cushion nearby.
Ingrid’s fingers were warm as they brushed his skin, working the heavy fabric of his pants down over his hips.
Time skipping a few seconds later, she had peeled his clothes away, his erection springing free, heavy and pulsing in the dim light.
She knelt back for a second, just looking. Her breath caught, her eyes widening. She’d felt how thick and big it was, but seeing it was something else entirely."Goddess..." she breathed, a mix of genuine awe and raw hunger.