Pleasure Parlour - Episode 8

She stepped through the curtain into Pleasure Parlour and felt the red velvet lights drag across her bare shoulders like warm fingers. The room smelled of sandalwood and sex. At the center, a man lay back on black silk, thick cock already hard, waiting for her mouth. She crossed the carpet in bare feet, knelt between his knees, and took him in with one slow glide until her nose pressed his stomach. He tasted clean, musky, the head heavy on her tongue. Two more women moved into the frame: one straddled his face, lowering her smooth, glistening cunt onto his tongue; the other settled behind her, parting her cheeks with firm hands and pressing a wet tongue against her asshole. She moaned around the cock in her throat, the sound low and needy. The girl behind her worked deeper, tongue pushing, lips sucking the tight ring until it softened. The man beneath her gripped the woman’s hips and dragged his tongue flat across her clit, tasting every fold. Wet sounds filled the space—sucking, licking, the slap of skin. She pulled off the shaft long enough to watch spit stretch from her lips to his glistening head, then sank again, taking him deeper this time, throat fluttering around the intrusion. The girl behind her replaced her tongue with two fingers, sliding them in slow, curling them upward while she licked the stretched rim. The woman riding his face rocked harder, thighs shaking as he sucked her clit between his lips and pressed two fingers inside her. All three moved in rhythm now, breath sharp, bodies flushed under the low lights. She felt her orgasm building from the fingers in her ass and the cock stretching her throat, and when it hit she pushed down harder, taking him to the root while she shook and came around nothing but the girl’s tongue and fingers.