I didn't want either of them to feel special—both were equal sluts for me, begging the same, dripping the same.
So I teased them more—rubbing my swollen cockhead slow between their stacked holes, sliding up and down, pressing just enough to make them feel the stretch but not giving it yet. They cried for it—moaning desperate, hips bucking wild, shame burning their faces as they competed for my cock.
But I had something else in mind.
I pulled Brittany off the top sudden—she gasped as she fell to the bed beside us—then grabbed Tiffany's legs, flipping her onto her back and dragging her to the edge of the bed, thighs spread wide, pussy glistening and open.
Then I guided Brittany on top of her mom—face to face, chest to chest. Brittany obeyed instant, climbing over, lowering slow until their massive tits squished together—nipples brushing hard, soft flesh overflowing.
