3.30 ❤ Post Date III

Normally, Zoey would try to hold off on how quickly she let the euphoria pooling in her stomach grow, either for her partner’s pleasure or for her own, but in this instance, as Rosalie bobbed up and down her cock, filling the air with loud squelching noises, she let Rosalie’s hard work yield fruit. She basked in the sensation, not holding off at all, letting Rosalie’s tight throat-muscles massage her length and coax that burning pool of heat closer to its apex.

The oral-fixation stud worked away on Rosalie as much as her tongue and throat worked away on Zoey. Rosalie had always been enthusiastic—if that word did it justice—when it came to pleasuring Zoey with her mouth, but now, spurred on by the stud’s effect, Rosalie was twice as eager. Her throat acted as a second pussy, and she bobbed up and down, pleasuring herself as much as she was Zoey.

Zoey groaned as the pleasure built. She started to work with Rosalie, bucking her hips into Rosalie’s mouth at the same time she bobbed. Since she wasn’t fighting her climax away, it was arriving quickly—almost as quickly as Rosalie’s own, by the looks of things, and the sounds she was making.

Rosalie pulled herself off, gasping for air. Zoey realized she’d been down there for a while. Still, she was disappointed at the sudden lack of pleasure.

Rosalie sat up, then repositioned herself on the bed. She hung her head off the edge, face upside down. “Hurry up,” she panted, opening her mouth.

Zoey did as instructed. She climbed off the bed and shuffled over to Rosalie, gripping her wet cock and lining it up to Rosalie’s mouth, who swallowed her eagerly.

She pushed forward, watching Rosalie’s throat bend outward as her cock filled it. She also admired—briefly, before it was enveloped—the bright red lipstick smearing her length. Seriously, such a great sight. She was going to have to encourage Rosalie to wear it more often.

Rosalie had already had her throat opened up from her efforts earlier, so Zoey didn’t ease into things. She gripped the side of Rosalie’s head for stabilization, then started jerking in and out. There was something euphoric about the sloppy squelching noises Rosalie’s throat made as it was used. And, Rosalie was getting better. She choked less with Zoey’s violent use, her rough thrusting not causing her gag reflex to fight back as much as it had, the first few times.

For close to a minute, she watched Rosalie’s throat bend outward, panting in pleasure as her cock filled it up. Rosalie’s motions grew more frantic, her body squirming in place as her mouth pussy took Zoey’s cock. Zoey might’ve been worried she needed air, but she knew Rosalie would tap her thigh to let her know. No, the frantic motions meant she was getting close.

Rosalie’s back arched, and Zoey picked up speed, growling in animalistic excitement. She gripped Rosalie’s head even tighter and pumped with everything she had, pistoning with violent force—which, by Rosalie’s thrashing, she enjoyed. Her hands scrambled at the bedsheets, body twisting left and right as her orgasm washed over her.

Like usual, seeing Rosalie thrown over the edge did the same to Zoey.

Zoey groaned as—

As the heat reached—

Zoey whined, the promised climax not arriving. The pounding, curling heat in her stomach and caressing her cock coursed through her, pleasurable enough to be nearly painful, but distinctly not orgasm. Zoey’s body tried to rectify the problem. She’d already been slamming into Rosalie’s throat as quickly as she could, but she found a second bastion of strength. She needed relief. She needed that orgasmic peak to wash through her.

The squelching noises became even louder as Zoey rutted like an animal, desperately trying to find relief. It was so close. It wasn’t fair.

Almost painful became actually painful. She knew what was happening, but it didn’t matter. She just had to work a little harder. A little … harder …

Rosalie’s shaking orgasm passed, and she patted on Zoey’s thighs to stop. She’d already let Zoey go for a shockingly long time, but she did need to breathe.

Zoey despaired. Stop using Rosalie’s throat? She couldn’t. She just needed a few more thrusts, and that burning euphoria would arrive. She slapped her hips against Rosalie’s face, stuffing her throat full as she tried to finish off. But it wasn’t working. Her entire body burned.

She was melting with a pleasure that was turning to agony. Her climax refused to arrive.

Rosalie patted her thighs, more firmly.

Somehow, Zoey groaned and pulled herself out. She managed that, but not to stop satisfying herself. Her two hands replaced Rosalie’s throat, and she jerked herself off, trying to coax out an orgasm that refused to come. Rosalie’s saliva acted as lubricant, letting Zoey’s powerful grip massage up and down her cock. She focused on the tip, trying to force herself to cum.

It should’ve worked. She tried so desperately. She fell back into the hardwood floor, arching her hips with a frantic need to climax. But no matter how quickly or expertly she milked herself, it didn’t come.

Finally, after an agonizing several minutes—what felt like years—she collapsed, panting and dizzy, painfully unsatisfied.

She lay that way for a while, exhausted in a way even her most thorough sessions didn’t leave her. Her cock throbbed angrily, needing more—but she let it stay unsatisfied, refused to return her grip to its length, because the burning waves of pleasure (pleasure? Not so much by that point) were starting to recede.

Eventually, soft lips pressed into Zoey’s own, and even exhausted, her body responded. She kissed back, the idea it was Rosalie—her girlfriend—kissing her somehow washing away the exhaustion. For a few moments, she eagerly explored her tongue around Rosalie’s mouth, savoring her taste. It managed to distract her, the last of the painful pleasure fading.

“With that kind of reaction,” Rosalie murmured, pulling back, her hot breath washing across Zoey’s face. Zoey basked in it, not opening her eyes. “I almost feel bad. That didn’t look fun.”

Zoey’s breathing had calmed somewhat, but she was still panting. “I should’ve just stopped.” Trying to force it had only made things worse.

“Maybe. But look how well you did.”

A hand wrapped around Zoey’s cock, which she groaned at. It was still sensitive, but at least it didn’t start the crashing, painful waves of half-orgasm again. Zoey cracked an eye open, looking to see what Rosalie meant.

Sure enough, the item had worked. Zoey’s desperate attempts to work herself to climax had activated the item. The cock-ring had absorbed the energy and redirected it.

She’d put on at least four inches. She wasn’t sure how much thicker her cock had gotten, but enough Zoey could tell the difference.

“Shit,” Zoey breathed. “That’s, uh. That’s something.”

Eighteen inches of girl cock. Fourteen was ridiculous, and a tight fit even with her skill, so would Rosalie even be able to get it inside her, now?  Would Zoey’s skill let her any sized cock fit into her partner? Surely at some point, she’d need to rely on an additional aid—something like the stretchiness potion she had planned.

“If that was too much, we don’t have to keep going,” Rosalie said.

Zoey studied her girlfriend for a second, then snorted. “You almost kept the disappoint out of your voice.”

Rosalie blushed, then insisted: “I’m serious. Was that fine?”

“Near the end?” Zoey asked. She shivered. “Well. It got worse and worse. Just stop me, next time. Pin me down, or something.”

“Okay. I should’ve done that in the first place. You weren’t having fun at the end.”

“It’s fine. And, I imagine it was … a show.” If she’d seen Rosalie writhing on the ground, lost in overwhelming ecstasy and frantically trying to work herself to orgasm, she might have been too compromised to act rationally too.

She rolled over, tumbling Rosalie into the ground. Her cock—even more oversized now—laid flat against her body. It pulsed with the contact. It hadn’t fully calmed from earlier.

“I don’t blame you. But yeah. Definitely stop me.” She kissed Rosalie, partly to show there was no hard feelings, and partly because her flushed expression had forced her to. How could she ever resist the urge to kiss a blushing Rosalie?

Rosalie groaned and writhed on the floor, which caught Zoey off guard. Right … Rosalie still had the mouth stud in. Kissing her was the same as eating her out. Zoey grinned, then pulled back.

“You’re still picking the positions,” Rosalie murmured, panting.  Prompting her to get back to things. She was ready for round two.

Zoey took Rosalie’s hand, guiding them off the floor and back onto the bed. Zoey laid down flat, pulling Rosalie on top of her, breasts pressed into each other’s, with her cock sticking between Rosalie’s thighs and into the air.

Almost by instinct, Rosalie crossed her heels and tensed her thighs, squeezing soft skin against Zoey’s cock. Rosalie humped slowly up and down, caressing her length with powerful muscles. It was unfair how strong Rosalie’s legs were—for obvious reasons, considering her career and training. But just as soft as powerful.

“I wanted to keep kissing,” Zoey murmured, explaining her chosen position. With Rosalie laid atop her, their faces were only inches away, and Rosalie’s entire body pressed down on her own. Somehow, she wanted more skin contact. “Take the stud out?”

Rosalie did so.

“You’re intoxicating to be around, you know,” Zoey said. “You set me on fire.” She kissed Rosalie, then tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. Rosalie didn’t moan, with the stud no longer in, but that was fine. She wanted to talk, which was why she’d asked Rosalie to take it out. “Every part of you is perfect. Unfairly so.”

“Zoey,” Rosalie murmured back, almost chastising—telling her to stop with the over-the-top flattery. She was embarrassed … but also wanted more. Zoey could read it on her face.

“I’m not using flattery to get what I want,” Zoey told her. “You’re already taking care of me, aren’t you? So you can’t use that excuse. You have to accept that I’m telling the truth, just because I want to.”

She kissed her again. Rosalie’s taste would never stop being intoxicating. She resurfaced to breathe, and Zoey had to organize her thoughts again, Rosalie’s kiss having scattered them.

“I still can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be around you. Much less call you my girlfriend.”

“Stop saying things like that …”

Another kiss. Rosalie’s thighs caressed her in a slow, coaxing motion. Not frantically. They’d taken a slower, sensual pace. Rosalie wanted her to keep going, to keep laying the compliments on, so she didn’t distract Zoey with her competent, powerful thighs. Zoey grinned, then pulled back for breath after a long, eager minute of exploring each other’s mouths.

“It’s not just your body,” Zoey said, pressing her forehead into Rosalie’s. “You better not think that. It’s you. Your drive. The kindness you can’t quite stamp down. How you blush at everything … like now, when all I’m doing is telling you the truth.”

Rosalie kissed her, cutting her off. Apparently she’d taken it too far, and Rosalie’s embarrassment had won out. Zoey smiled into the kiss.

Rosalie separated, then pressed her forehead into Zoey’s shoulder. Her hips picked up speed, working her thighs up and down with more alacrity. “I said, stop saying things like that,” she murmured into her shoulder. “I’m going to be torturing you for the next hour, remember? You’ll make me feel bad.”

“The next hour?”

Rosalie kissed Zoey’s neck. “I won’t let it go too far, like the first time. I’ll take good care of you.” She leaned up, bringing her lips close to Zoey’s ear. “And in payment, at the end, you can finish inside.”

Well. That sounded like a deal to Zoey.