Chapter 73

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.”