A slow, predatory smile spread across Lyra's face as she felt him twitch inside her. "Already?" she purred, shifting her hips again, drawing a weak, pleasure-drenched groan from him. She leaned down, her dark hair a curtain around their faces. "You're not done, Satou. We're not done with you."
Jessica's hand, still tracing through the slick mess on his stomach, moved with purpose. Her fingers were soft but insistent as they wrapped around his softening length, gently easing him out of Lyra. He hissed at the sensitivity, but Jessica was already moving, her blue eyes locked on his with a fiery determination.
"My turn to taste," she whispered, and before he could respond, she lowered her head.
