Lea's body leaned closer, her hair brushing his stomach, her scent filling the air as she worked with growing desperation.
Chelsea watched from the side, gripping the sheets with white knuckles, silently praying this would be the moment they finally cracked him.
Lea kept going, her breasts sliding, pressing, squishing around him as she murmured breathy, involuntary moans—her determination rising with every stroke.
Anything.
Any tiny sign they were getting closer.
Anything to show that Ross—unstoppable, unreadable Ross—was finally being pushed to the edge.
Tap
Tap
Tap
The wet, rhythmic sounds of chest and cock rubbing together continued, growing louder and more shameless with every motion Lea made.
The room seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with heat and tension.
Her breasts slid and squeezed around Ross's length like they were made for this alone—her soft flesh molding to him, swallowing him, hugging him from both sides with every stroke.
