Chapter 37: Lamborghini

-- TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 2009 --

“Ohhh, shit ... Ohhh, shit ... Go slow. Go slow. Fuck-fuck-fuck-FUCK!” the dirty-blonde bombshell bent over before me groaned, her anguished cries picking up in volume and pitch as my fat cockhead slowly stretched open her slimy spit-coated sphincter.

“That’s it, Tiger ... Oh, fuck yeah. This looks soooo fucking hot right now!” Adrienne growled excitedly, kneeling beside us and holding Peyton’s asscheeks open wide. She puckered up to kiss me right after purring, “You’re such a fucking stud.”

I met my Tigress’s liplock and moaned, savoring her nuclear-powered passion, but only for a few seconds. Then I broke the kiss to focus once again on the shapely booty before me, tugging back on Peyton’s hips while pressing forward to ease inch after inch of thick dick into the ex-sorority president’s tight tailpipe.

I hadn’t expected to be in this situation when I first met up with Peyton downstairs in the lobby more than three hours ago. I mean, of course the thought had crossed my mind that the gorgeous young woman I hadn’t seen in almost three years might be inclined to take another ride in the Lamborghini tonight, but I certainly never wanted to have that expectation of her. Further, Adrienne had told me she planned to spend the night with Taylor at the Kwong residence out in Montauk, so I certainly never expected to end up in a wicked hot threesome with the two busty blonde Tri-Delts tonight. And yet, here we were.

But let me start from the beginning.

“Hello, Mr. Lamborghini. It’s been a long time,” she greeted.

“Hello, Peyton. Good lord you’re just as beautiful as I remember.”

Miss Peyton Kent, one-time Tri-Delt President and now humble grad student pursuing her Master’s Degree in Economics was truly as beautiful as I remembered. She was still sex-on-heels epitomized: a tall, well-built young woman with a trim figure, great tits, and an ass to die for. I could still remember the mouthwatering sight of her pouty lips wrapped around my dick. She had the kind of haughty, icy, “alpha bitch” demeanor I had long been simultaneously wary of and attracted to. And even now she was giving me the same sort of, ‘What the hell are YOU looking at?’ kind of glare that reminded me of Amber in response to my flirtatious comment.

I held my arms out to her invitingly as she approached, and the luscious lady in red stepped into me with a cool smile, not actually coming into contact with my chest but rather just tapping my shoulders a bit with her hands before taking a step back.

I glanced to my right, gesturing toward where June would’ve been, but I found that she and Moon already had their arms around each other’s lower back and were halfway to the elevators. “Oh, uhhh, I was about to introduce you to my co-worker June, but ... yeah ... there she goes.”

Peyton furrowed her eyebrows and followed my gaze.

“Nevermind,” I said. “How are you? As you said, it’s been a long time.”

“I’m doing well, thank you,” she replied politely and primly. “I don’t need to ask how you’re doing. From what the girls tell me, some things never change. How many of my sorority sisters have been shacking up with you these past few weeks?”

“A few less, I think, than the heyday of Tri-Delt West, although none of them are actually ‘shacking up’. There’s no rotation of three sisters spending the night the way Andie, Jamie, and the others used to do.” I shrugged, not feeling ashamed of my situation in the slightest despite the tone of disapproval in Peyton’s voice.

“There’s no need for a permanent rotation, what with Adrienne, Dawn, and Summer as your constant companions. As for my visiting girls, Tri-Delt Nest I’m told is the new name, and that President Jayden even copied my charter on the wall.”

“‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,’ I believe were Jayden’s precise words.”

Peyton snickered and sighed, the tension in her body melting away. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It wouldn’t have properly fit the Ben of my memory had you settled down into a traditional ... boring ... romantic relationship.”

“You really using the term ‘boring’? I thought you wanted a Toyota Camry kind of relationship for yourself.”

Peyton thought about that. “Well, maybe not a Camry. Maybe more like a BMW 5-series or something. Sure, it’s a four-door sedan, but it’s got some horsepower under the hood, you know?”

“My Toyota minivan does have sport rims!”

Peyton stared at me blankly before rolling her eyes.

I smirked and continued, “How goes your search for Mr. BMW 5-series?”

She waved me off immediately. “I’ve got no time to go searching for romance. This is school: study, sleep, socialize - pick two, remember?”

“I seem to remember that being: study, sleep, socialize, sex - pick three.”

“And you eliminated studying, from what I recall.”

I snickered. “Well, yeah.”

“Well I’ve only had time for studying and sleep. This is actually the first excuse I’ve had to dress up since New Year’s.” She gestured to her outfit, which gave me permission to ogle her fantastic body up and down. She was in as great shape as ever, although she may have actually lost a few pounds due to academic stress.

I frowned. “No hot Valentine’s Day date? You can’t claim studying as an excuse. Valentine’s was a Saturday.”

“Can’t claim studying so much as a lack of worthy offers.”

“A woman of your caliber? I have a hard time believing you don’t get asked out with some frequency.”

“Emphasis on the term ‘worthy’. Half of the good ones are already taken. The other half, quite frankly, deserve better than what little time I would give them. I really AM too busy to have a boyfriend.”

I arched an eyebrow. “So when was the last time you got laid?”

Peyton blinked rapidly and frowned. “Did you really just ask me that flat out?”

I shrugged. “I know what I’m good at and I have an idea of what you and I mean to each other. I’ll be flying back to Berkeley at the end of the week, so there’s no chance of long-term romance. You already called me Mr. Lamborghini on arrival which means you distinctly remember that I can pull you around corners at ninety-five-miles-an-hour and make you scream in delirious ecstasy. You’ve already defined me as the weekend ride to give you a few thrills, so ... well, I’m offering to give you a ride for a few days. You can de-stress a bit - take the edge off. We both have a good time. And then in a few days I’ll go back home and you won’t need to feel guilty about not having time for a real boyfriend.”

Peyton raised both eyebrows and evaluated me coolly again. “But what about Adrienne?”

“She’s visiting Taylor tonight. But even for the rest of the week, I’m sure she’d be perfectly happy for you to join us. Double your pleasure. Double your fun.”

Peyton pursed her lips, looking skeptical.

I smirked. “Look, I’m not like expecting anything and if you tell me not to say another word on the subject, I promise I’ll drop it completely. I honestly would be happy for us to just go get a nice dinner and catch up as old friends without the slightest hint of there being anything more. But at the same time, you can’t tell me the thought of hooking up didn’t cross your mind when I first texted you to meet up tonight.”

Peyton immediately blushed and averted her gaze - confirmation enough. When she finally looked back up at me, her light green eyes were sparkling again. Drawing herself to her full height, which in heels put us eye-to-eye, she assumed that haughty, imperial look again. “I’m not an ‘easy’ girl.”

“Never said you were.”

“You promised me a nice dinner, and yet we’re still standing here in the hotel lobby.”

I grinned and gestured towards the main doors. “I’ve got reservations for 8:30.”

“Let’s go then. I’m hungry.”

“After you, milady.” I bowed like a courtier and held out one arm.

She immediately gathered up her coat and then started walking, her high heels click-clacking on the marble floor. But once she got perhaps ten feet away from me and I’d stood up again to start following her, she paused and ... well ... posed. I found myself reminded of Mila Visser openly inviting me to ogle her, and it was clear that Peyton was doing the same. She had one leg forward and bent at the knee, which flexed her shapely ass encased in the skintight red fabric of her cocktail dress. She twisted her torso in a way that trimmed her waist and simultaneously gave me a glimpse of side-boob, and she also flashed a coy smile over her shoulder.

“C’mon then ... Tiger,” she purred. “Let’s go.”

“So how is Sasha doing on her ‘walkabout’?”

I set down my cocktail and smiled. Adrienne had booked the reservation for me, and we’d been given a corner booth, half-curtained with high walls, that afforded us a great deal of privacy. We’d both finished our meals and had moved on to cocktails and conversation. “She’s doing well. You follow her on Facebook, right?”

“Tons of scenery pics, selfies with famous backdrops, mouthwatering exotic dishes,” Peyton replied while nodding. “I’m totally jealous of her right now and wondering why the hell I decided to go to grad school instead of backpacking across Europe. But I meant beyond the Facebook posts. Have you talked to her at all?”

I nodded. “She calls home at least once a week and we have a group text thread. She’s totally jealous of us, actually. She whines that had she known we’d end up creating Tri-Delt Nest, she’d have just stayed in Berkeley.”

Peyton laughed. “I’ll bet. But then again, I’m sure she’s enjoying herself, uh ... sampling ... all that Europe has to offer?”

I chuckled. “Yeah. She’s cutting quite a swath across the continent.”

The dirty-blonde eyed me curiously. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Why would that bother me?”

“Not all of Sasha’s Facebook posts have been with girls. I noted several where she’s in mixed company.”

I shrugged. “She’s not my girlfriend anymore. We’re friends and we’ll always be friends. This is her time to spread her wings and experience all that life has to offer.”

“So she is sleeping with other men?”

I shrugged again. “I don’t actually know for sure one way or the other, nor am I particularly inclined to ask. That’s her life and her choice. It’s not like she needs my permission. Although so far, she hasn’t sent us any sexting photos of half-naked dudes.”

“‘Sexting’ photos?”

“Ah. Well, she and Adrienne have a thing for taking photos of the naked girls they’re with and texting them to each other. There are quite a few hardcore ones of my dick buried inside one girl or another as well. Those are the ones Adrienne sends to tease Sasha and make her jealous.”

“One would think that would drive Sasha to find some dick of her own.”

I shrugged. “Possibly. Like I said: that’s her choice and I’m cool with it.”

Peyton nodded. “So these sexting photos Adrienne’s been sending: I’m assuming those photos are usually of my girls?”

“Technically, most of them aren’t ‘your’ girls. You’d graduated before most of them even submitted college applications.”

“Every Tri-Delt in the world, past or present, is ‘my’ girl. Comes with the President title.”

I chuckled. “All the girls have granted their permission, and Adrienne’s really good about keeping faces out of those photos. Well, except for Neera; she’s kinda crazy.”

Peyton smirked. “Lakhi’s cousin, right? Natalee told me how she’d gone straight after you at the Halloween party - bounty or no bounty. Of course, Lakhi had given her prior knowledge of who you were.”

I took note of the fond expression on Peyton’s face and leaned forward. “Reminiscing about your own undergraduate years? There’s a Tri-Delt Chapter at Columbia, isn’t there?”

“Actually, no, there isn’t.”

I frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry about that. I imagine it would’ve been reassuring to have a built-in group of sisters who’d readily welcome you.”

“It’s fine. I only have time for sleep and studying, remember? I wouldn’t have had many hours for a social life. I thought I had to study hard at Cal, but grad school is a whole other kind of beast.”

I flipped my hands palms-up. “Anything I can do to help? I wouldn’t mind quizzing you or something. I do work in the Finance industry and I’ve got a good head for numbers.”

“I remember, Mr. I-don’t-need-to-study-to-ace-my-classes. But seriously, you wouldn’t want to help me study.”

“Sure I would. Anything for an old friend.”

Peyton blinked, and her expression softened. “You know ... I believe that,” she said quietly.

A silence fell between us as Peyton turned thoughtful. But just when I thought about saying something to fill the emptiness, she took a deep breath and sighed.

“You know, Ben, for all your Lamborghini foibles, or your utter and complete inability to go twenty-four hours without fucking the nearest thing with a pair of tits, I have never once doubted your willingness to go above and beyond for someone you barely even know.”

I blushed and glanced down at the table, a bit embarrassed by the sudden warmth in Peyton’s voice, in such stark contrast to her generally cool demeanor through the evening.

“Regardless, I have no interest in bringing you back to my crummy apartment to help me study,” Peyton continued with a smirk. “You think I got all dolled up like this for the purpose of opening my textbooks?”

I smiled. “I think you got all dolled up like this because you like the way I look at you when you’re dolled up like this.”

Peyton’s eyes glimmered. “You’re damn right about that. What was it you said when you first saw me at the hotel? ‘Good lord you’re just as beautiful as in my dreams’?”

I smiled. “Not quite, but I like your version better.”

“You got me so wet right away,” Peyton muttered while taking hold of her cocktail with her right hand and swirling what remained of it around the bottom of her glass a bit. “Made me instantly think about the last time we were together. Do you remember?”

“Cinco de Mayo party. With Adrienne, Annette, and Natalee.”

“Blew my freaking mind.” Peyton sighed, set her left elbow down on the table, and planted her chin on her open palm. She stared at me for a long few seconds, just sort of staring at me while I waited her out. And at last, without preamble, she muttered, “Two months. Just one time in the last two months. And before that it’s been since August.”

I blinked, not immediately understanding. “Two months since what?”

Peyton smirked. “You asked how long it’s been since I got laid.”

I blushed and shook my head. “Sorry about that. A rather uncouth question, I know. I wasn’t actually expecting a specific answer, more just trying to figure out if you might say, ‘It’s been a long time’ or something like that.”

“It HAS been a long time,” she sighed. “My boyfriend and I agreed to break up when I went to grad school, although we did have one roll in the hay for old times’ sake when I went home for Christmas break. So it’s been just the one time in the last six months for me. I’m guessing you’ve already had sex more than once since this morning.”

I smirked and momentarily glanced away without a verbal response.

Peyton continued to swirl the remnants of her cocktail in her right hand, staring downward at the glass while keeping her chin in her open left palm. She seemed slightly embarrassed at the moment, but after taking a deep breath, she looked up at me with electric green eyes and murmured softly, “I’d very much like a ride in the Lamborghini now.”

I poked my head out through the curtains and raised my hand, calling, “Check, please!”

As it turned out, Peyton had stashed a rollaboard suitcase with the hotel luggage service, just in case. If things didn’t work out, she could grab her bag and go home without me ever knowing. If things did work out - and obviously they did work out - she was prepared. We collected her suitcase from the bell desk, and the bellhop kept smirking at me with my mussed-up hair and the obvious lipstick marks on my lips, neck, and cheeks. And then Peyton and I headed into the elevator to resume the makeout session we’d already started in the cab on the ride back to the hotel.

As soon as we made it through the door of my suite, Peyton grabbed me and spun me into the wall. With her heels on, she was able to meet my mouth face-to-face and crammed her tongue down my throat while I dug my hands beneath the hem of her short cocktail dress and grabbed meaty handfuls of her firm asscheeks. Peyton took that as her cue to leap onto me and wrap her legs around my waist, forcing me to adjust my grip to hold her thighs as I spun us around the other way to press her against the wall. And she crooned into my kiss as we continued to devour one another.

But after only a minute or so, Peyton tore her mouth away and glanced into the room. “Sofa,” she muttered before sealing her lips over mine once again.

I took the hint and carried her into the suite’s living room. She made no move to uncross her legs from around my waist, so I pivoted around and sat down on the sofa. Only then did Peyton shift her legs into a straddle position, and she took advantage of her increased leverage to bend my head backwards and take the dominant position in our kissing.

A minute later, she pulled back just far enough to growl five words every man wants to hear: “I wanna suck your dick.”

I grinned as she quickly slipped off my lap and crouched down on the floor. She got a little hung up on my belt buckle, so I took over that part. Her nimble fingers unbuttoned my slacks and pulled down my zipper, and then I pressed myself against the backrest as leverage to elevate my ass off the sofa cushion and give her room to tug my slacks and boxer shorts down to my knees.

“Good lord he’s just as beautiful as I remember,” she breathed, which made me chuckle. And then she quickly ducked her head to surround my knob with her wet mouth, sucking powerfully as she hummed in obvious erotic need.

“Oh, fuck, Peyton,” I groaned, reaching up to hold her head with one hand. She stared up into my eyes, electric green eyes flashing. She was soooo fuckin’ sexy with my dick in her mouth, and I found myself wishing with all my heart that she didn’t live on the other side of the country so I could witness the amazing sight more often.

She popped her head up, pumping the length of my rod with her right hand. “Such a beautiful cock. So big. So thick. I can’t wait to feel it stretching me open.”

“If you really can’t wait, you’re welcome to climb aboard right now.”

“Fuck yeah,” she replied immediately, standing up to hurriedly yank her soaked black panties down to her ankles and then step out of them. Raising the hem of her red cocktail dress up to her waist, the gorgeous green-eyed blonde wasted no time straddling my lap once again. But this time there were no articles of clothing between us, and she took hold of my erection to keep it upright as she settled my mushroom head into the entrance of her pleasure center and slowly sat down.

Peyton was much tighter than I remembered, although that could certainly be explained by a lack of consistent stretching over the past six months. I knew that Adrienne had given her a full set of Ben Juniors, but it would appear that Peyton wasn’t making much use of them. Nor was she particularly interested in taking the time to stretch herself out, too eagerly anxious to get to the good stuff.

I got her to the good stuff in a hurry, befitting that sense of urgency. I still had my shirt, tie, and suit jacket on from a day in the office. Peyton’s cocktail dress had been pulled up to her waist and she’d stepped out of her panties, but she was otherwise fully-dressed. Neither of us bothered with removing any more clothing, too focused on getting her off. I grabbed her ass and pounded her up and down my prick while wriggling my ass to grind my pelvic bone against her clit. Peyton clutched my face to the crook of her neck, gasping and groaning and writhing and moaning while I assaulted her senses. And in less than three minutes, she tensed up momentarily before exploding all at once, screaming her satisfaction at the top of her lungs.

“FFFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!!!”

Between the two of us, Peyton was the Lamborghini at the moment, racing around the track at hyperspeed and taking corners at dangerous velocities while she spasmed and thrashed in my lap. All I could do at this point was hold on for a wild ride until she’d finally finished cumming.

But eventually she came down from her peak and wound up slumped over my left shoulder while gasping for air. I chuckled and stroked her spine while nuzzling her neck with my nose and lips. Peyton crooned in weary contentment, and after taking a couple of minutes to catch her breath, she exhaled slowly and sighed, “Fuck I really needed that.”

“Glad to be of service, but I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

“Mmm, is that a promise?”

“Absofuckinlutely.”

Peyton giggled and sat up straight. Her green eyes were sparkling again and she had a few loose locks of dirty blonde hair that had come free of her half-up hairstyle, but those only served to make her look even sexier. She was gorgeous just as she was, but I still found myself greatly interested in getting access to the rest of her spectacular body.

Reaching up with both hands, I tugged down the spaghetti straps of her tight red dress and peeled them down her arms. She wore a black lace strapless bra beneath, and I’d been getting teasing hints of the black lace trim all night. Now, I could care less about the black lace as I quickly unclasped the offending garment and tossed it aside so I could suck one of her perky pink nipples into my mouth. At first, Peyton cradled my head to her chest, but after a while she murmured, “Your turn. I wanna feel those pecs Natalee kept raving about after Halloween.”

I grinned and leaned back, letting Peyton loosen my tie and start unbuttoning my shirt. Once she had it open throat to tails, I let her pull my tie over my head and then help me pull my arms out of the sleeves, witnessing the look of delight on her face as if she were a little girl opening presents on Christmas morning. Last went my white undershirt, and as soon as that was out of the way, Peyton stared rapturously at my chest and reached out to gently scratch her fingernails across my pecs.

Do you remember the scene in Captain America: The First Avenger when Steve Rogers first got the super-soldier serum and Peggy Carter couldn’t help but touch his pectorals? Yeah, the producers of that movie stole that scene from this moment with me and Peyton.

Anyways, I grinned and Peyton let her fingernails trail down over my washboard abs. “Fuck, Ben. You went and got even hotter over the last three years. These things are made of iron.”

“Living with Adrienne has me on a healthier diet, and fucking makes for great exercise.”

“Well the way YOU do fucking, it apparently does.”

She palmed both of my pectorals, and so I went ahead and palmed both of her tits as well. Together we both went honka-honka to our heart’s content. But eventually Peyton stopped playing around and raised her eyes up to meet mine, green eyes sizzling.

“I want you on top, pinning my naked body beneath your strong, heaving, masculine presence,” she murmured in a husky voice. “I wanna stare up at you, watching you just fuckin’ pounding me into the mattress. And then I want to watch the tension in your eyes as you groan and fill up my soaking wet pussy with all your sperm.”

I grinned. “Works for me.”

Peyton smirked. “C’mon then ... Tiger,” she purred. “Let’s go.”

“Fuck! Fuck! Ffffuuuucccckkkk!!!” Peyton screamed.

“Hngh! Hngh! Hhhhnnnngggghhhh...” I grunted and groaned as I slammed forward one final time, clenching those washboard abs Peyton loved, and blasted her velvety-soft interior with molten hot lava.

Still in the throes of her own orgasm, the dirty-blonde babe beneath my heaving body gaped her mouth open wide and stared up into my eyes, watching the constriction of my countenance as I creamed her cunt with copious quantities of cum. She shivered and shuddered, arching her back to thrust her gorgeous bare-naked tits into my chest, until finally she ran out of breath and collapsed, completely exhausted for the moment.

I was pretty tired myself, and I had to brace my forearms on the mattress to keep myself from crushing her. Still, I hung my head down, setting my sweaty forehead atop Peyton’s sweaty forehead as we both panted for breath.

“Holy shit, Tiger...” Peyton gasped. “That was ... I mean ... I can’t even...”

I wheezed, “Y’know I realize ... you picked up ... calling me ‘Tiger’ ... from Adrienne ... but I thought ... I told you ... that nickname ... is kinda hers.”

“Aww ... I rather think ... it suits you...” she panted back.

“It does suit him,” Adrienne’s voice abruptly cut in.

Peyton and I both gasped and glanced over to the doorway. The supermodel herself leaned against the doorjamb, arms folded across her bounteous chest that was half-exposed in a plunging scoop-necked top. Some days Adrienne dressed to avoid attention, and then there were days like today when everything about her screamed, ‘HEY! LOOK AT ME!’

The busty blonde bombshell stood up from the doorway and smirked down at us as she started to disrobe, clearly intent on joining us. “I’ll make you a deal: you can keep calling him ‘Tiger’ so long as I can keep slurping Tiger’s jizz outta your sodden holes this week.”

Peyton giggled and nodded. “You have a deal.”

Less than a minute later, I found myself withdrawing my spent schlong from Peyton’s pretty pussy, now significantly saturated with scrumptious spunk. Once completely naked, Adrienne quickly parked herself between her sorority sister’s spread thighs and audibly began to slurp out my spending. At the same time, Peyton opened her mouth and beckoned for me to come fill it with my slimy dick.

I groaned as Peyton’s supple lips and agile tongue began to work me over, rapidly reviving me for Round 2. Meanwhile, I glanced over at Adrienne and remarked, “You’re home early. I thought you were planning to spend the night at the Kwong mansion.”

Adrienne wriggled her head in Peyton’s crotch a little longer before pulling back, kissing her way up the dirty-blonde’s belly, and tonguing the diamond pendant that pierced Peyton’s navel. Then, setting her cheek down on one of Peyton’s bare-naked thighs, my Tigress glanced up at me and sighed as she explained, “We spent the whole day together, but in the end she really wanted to go to Giorgio’s to party and I told her that wasn’t my scene anymore. She tried to egg me on into going with her, even told me I needed to get into the spirit of things again or just go home and stop killing her vibe, and in the end I told her I’d come back and visit tomorrow after my ICON meetings.”

I arched both eyebrows. “You passed up a models’ party to come back to me?”

“The snow bunnies are always in action at Giorgio’s and you know I’m not into snorting anymore,” Adrienne muttered with a negative head shake. “Besides, I figured you and Peyton wouldn’t really mind me joining in, so it’s not like I thought I was gonna go without tonight. Don’t forget, it’s been three years since I’ve been with Peyton too!”

“Speaking of which, get back down there!” Peyton grabbed the back of Adrienne’s head and abruptly crammed it back down into her crotch. The green-eyed blonde grad student giggled and looked up at me. “How many women in the world can say they get to have a world-famous supermodel eating them out?”

“Well besides all the models and mousey production assistants she gets through, there are actually quite a few back in Berkeley, a large number of them your Tri-Delt sisters,” I pointed out.

“Oh, right.” Peyton giggled. “Well, this is one Tri-Delt sister who’s gonna enjoy the time she has. Hey A.D., wanna come help me give Tiger a tandem blowjob and maybe tittyfuck him with your titanic tits a bit? Then I wanna see him pounding your pussy as hard as he was just pounding mine while I get to taste your sweet lips and maul your boobs in my hands. It’s been three years since I’ve been with you.”

Adrienne pulled her head back, licked her lips, and grinned. “You know sometimes it’s really nice not having to be the conductor of the orchestra. How do you want me, Madam President?”

“Mmm, ooh this way. Come sit back against me.” Peyton parked herself in a reclining position with her head and shoulders braced against the headboard right next to the edge of the mattress, with pillows supporting her lower back. Adrienne reclined against Peyton’s chest with the supermodel’s head over the president’s left shoulder. Peyton dipped her head down to kiss Adrienne’s lips. And the dirty-blonde indeed could also reach around and maul the supermodel’s massive mammaries while I stood next to the mattress, slid myself into my Tigress’s sweet snatch, and started stroking.