The Thought of It 3: Scott (Patreon)

“Show me you love my cock as much as Emma,” Scott said.

“Your cock’s delicious,” he heard her saying. He also felt her saying it—her lips touching his glans with each word that passed through them. “But it’ll taste even better when you only put it inside me.”

Jean slid her lips over her cockhead and gently nibbled on his bellend with the points of her teeth. She went further and further, imprinting her teeth’s sharpness on the flare of his knob, then on the shaft behind it.

His endowment swelled. Scott felt its tip reaching for the back of her throat. She rewarded his growing size with tongue, gleefully rubbing against his sensitive underside.

Scott let his hands fall down to Jean’s head, stroking her blazing red hair. At first idly, then with growing fervor. His hands developed a grip on that pretty head, those green eyes looking up at him for every twitch of pleasure on his face.

Now he held her tight, working his cock deeper into her stationary mouth until she gagged, a note of panic entering those jade eyes. He pulled back and she showed her gratitude by sucking on his slick cock as he took it away from her, her mouth slurping until he pushed back into her. And again tested the narrowness of her throat; Jean gurgling, frightened by the size of him as he threatened to enter her airway.

“You want to be mine?” Scott asked her. “Then I’ll go as deep as I want, as far as I want. Can you take it, Jean? All nine inches? Do you want to taste my cum bad enough to feel your throat stretch around this dick? Don’t say anything—look me in the eye. I want to see you’re turned on by this. You like having your mouth be my fuckhole.”

He worked his cock back out to her plush lips; already losing their lipstick on his slowly pumping cock. He looked down at her. Jean looked up at him. There was still fear in her eyes, but traces of wild arousal as well. She sucked.

Scott rolled his hips forward, fucking his way into that warm suction. Into her throat. Jean gurgled, her eyes widened, but she desperately swallowed until she managed to get his cockhead down into the impossible tightness of her throat.

“Ggrk! Grk! Grkk! Ggh!”

Scott relented, pulling back, letting her pull in air through flaring nostrils. But he didn’t let her catch her breath. He pushed back into her mouth. His cock needed her throat again.

He heard a moan. It pulled Scott away from the sight of Jean’s face distorting around his thick cock. He saw Betsy, her back arched, her skirt inching up. Letting him see how her buttocks tightened, bunching with her writhing body.

She had to feel his eyes on her: “My cunt’s swelling… getting wet… my clit… so hot…”

“Oh Lord,” Emma grunted. “Don’t act like you’re getting off on watching someone else throat that dick. You’re not that much of a whore.”

Betsy slid her skirt up to her narrow waist, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Scott was watching. With her skirt up above her plumply rounded ass, it didn’t come back down—couldn’t contain the sweeping curves of Betsy’s asscheeks.

So she twisted her hips, rolling her hands up and down her toned thighs, swaying sensuously as she touched the tops of her porcelain stockings like they were an erogenous zone. Betsy moaned softly. Her palms cupped her grinding buttocks—squeezed as hard as Scott would if he got his hands on them.

“I can feel my cunt so much,” Betsy gasped. “In my little panties… wetter and wetter… even on my thighs now… it feels so empty… it’s felt empty ever since you took your cock out of me, Scott!”

Gripping one cheek, she pushed her other hand down the front of her body, curling her fingers into her sex. Pressing and rubbing like she was curing herself of something, not getting off.

“When you put your cock down my throat, Scott, don’t take it out. Keep it in there no matter how much I choke. I don’t need to breathe. I just need your dick, your cum. Hold me after you’re done fucking me, Scott. Mmmm… Jean can suck you then… when I’m in your arms…”

“There is such a thing as class,” Emma tsked. “Scott doesn’t want a total slut…”

“Emma, come here,” Scott drawled impatiently.

Emma smiled indolently. She made a production of strolling up to Scott. Her hips wagging, her breasts jiggling with every step. Until she was almost on top of the kneeling Jean.

“Yes, my love?”

Scott seized her. Jerked her against his body. She squealed, then it turned into a distressed moan as he licked her—his tongue running up her neck, along her cheek, almost to her hair before he took it back.

She trilled, shocked by the hot saliva now coating her skin. Not used to being so manhandled, not right off the bat. But his arm was around her, holding her tight, a hand locked into her waist and enjoying the feel of the creamy flesh underneath her cute skirt.

“You can feel my body,” he told her. “You can kiss me. But you can’t have my cock. That’s Jean’s right now.”

She pouted. Pushing against him like a lapdancer, her hips undulating and then pulling back. Scott could see the conflict written on her face. She didn’t want to hump his leg after having positioned herself as more elegant than Betsy and more whorish than Jean—the golden mean.

But she really was a slut; she wanted the pleasure that being fucked would bring. So she pressed herself against his leg and jerked back, pretending she was seducing him… yet cooing and sighing as the hand he had on her stroked her sensitive flesh. Stimulating her with the promise of being his lover next.

Scott moved his hand behind her back and under her skirt, to rub Emma’s own sweat into the crevice of her ass. Massaging her anus out of its virginal tightness and into a certain acceptance. Emma purred, her eyes glazing over, and she helped herself to his muscular physique, hands running over it, lips kissing his thick bicep and broad shoulder.

While Scott was distracted, Jean took her mouth off his erection. Hating to relinquish it, but loving the sight of it at full, rigid attention. Quivering with lust. The passion she’d infused in it with her mouth. Yet she scowled. Knowing that Emma and Betsy were turning him on as well.

She looked up at Scott, sighing with relief when she saw that he was looking at her. Virtually ignoring Betsy playing with herself and Emma working his athletic body like a stripper on a pole.

“Do you like it, Scott? Am I taking good care of your cock?”

“As always,” Scott assured her. He wrapped his free hand around the base of his prick and soundly slapped it down on Jean’s upturned face. Her jaw dropped in shock, but her pussy responded to the obscene motion. Loving that she had his dick, even if she was being degraded by it. “Yeah, you’re doing great. But what about you? Don’t you need to be fucked? You must be getting pretty hot for it to be getting into a blowjob this much…”

“Enough talk!” Emma snapped, grabbing Jean by the hair. “Take care of that big cock, God, I can’t stand to see it go unsatisfied.”

She slammed Jean down on his stiff organ, and as her hand worked the redhead up and down on his erection, Scott heard Emma moaning—vibrating in needful passion with every flex of her toned arm. She was getting off on seeing his cock devoured.

Scott raised an eyebrow, shocked at how turned on Emma was. He didn’t know if she’d found a way to share in Jean’s psychic experience or if it just pleasured her to see Jean tarnished. And Jean too was surprisingly passive. She didn’t seem at all turned off from letting Emma work her this way.

The look on Emma’s face was all but orgasmic. Scott leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Do you wish you were down there, my cock down your throat, with Jean forcing you to take it?”

Emma blinked. She heaved a hot breath. But her expression didn’t lose its rapture. “That’s not funny.”

“Maybe Betsy? That whore Betsy? Would you like her making you swallow my cock?”

“Bastard,” Emma spoke, sounding almost in pain, a fine sheen of sweat on her wintry features.

“Or me? Would you like me to hold you down on my prick when you blow me? Making sure you take all I have to feed you? Because despite what a slut you are, I have to force you to take every inch into that prissy little throat… make sure you end up the well-fucked bitch you desperately crave to be.”

Emma shuddered in obvious climax, her hand slipping out of Jean’s hair. But Jean kept pumping her head up and down on his erection. Taking almost every last inch.