Elisa found herself sandwiched between the two men, Zemos’ cock spreading her pussy open to allow him entrance. She sobbed an eager welcome as he pressed inside her, filling her to an exquisite fullness. Her body experienced an eager shock as he found the sensitive part of her interior. It felt as profound as standing within the hollow of a church bell as its clapper struck. The reverberations galvanized her whole body. She tensed all over, and the two men inside her groaned.
“If I was any younger, I would have lost it already,” Oret panted.
“The feeling of her convulsing is enough to undo any man,” Zemos agreed in a strained voice. “Easy, little one. By the ancestors, she’s so soft!”
“Soft and sweet. Sweet little girl,” Oret breathed.
He slid outward, emptying her with delicious care. Elisa shivered at how easily he moved within her, making it seem she’d been made to absorb him in just this way. Oret thrust back in, slipping like a sword into its scabbard.
As the Nobek sheathed himself once more, Zemos’ hips arched back. His cock slid out, well lubricated by their combined juices. The extreme fullness also delivered mind-stealing friction to that wide-awake part of Elisa’s sex. Her head fell back on Oret’s shoulder as she cried out, thick pleasure roiling through her core.
Her pussy and ass spasmed around the moving flesh of the men, clutching and squeezing without her conscious control. Their groans joined her breathless cries as they filled her over and over. That they were fighting for control over their need to climax was apparent to even a neophyte like Elisa; they’d establish a rhythm for a few luscious strokes, one heading in as the other emptied her. Then one would jerk and freeze, interrupting the movements. If it was Oret, his entire body would tense, and his hands on Elisa’s hips tightened almost painfully. If it was Zemos who had to stop, Elisa would see the veins strain against the skin of the Dramok’s throat and his teeth clench as if battling to keep some inner demon encased within.
For her part, it was these frequent pauses that kept Elisa from tipping over into carnal oblivion. They’d bring her close, close enough that she felt the hottest point of elation, the sensation of hanging in space before tumult could open the heavens wide. Then one of the men would stop, causing the other to pause, and the looming orgasm would ease down instead of cresting as they recovered.
She clawed at Zemos’ shoulders, leaving red stripes on his mocha-colored skin. If Elisa had possessed the presence of mind to think, she’d have been grateful that her fingernails were so short that she couldn’t make the man bleed. However, the fact that she was trying to rip the flesh from him in her anguished need made no impact on her at all. All she knew was the rioting of her guts and the inability to relieve the harsh pressure.
At last the Dramok conceded. “I can’t hold off any more, my Nobek. I will attend our lovely here, and then we will enjoy our own.”
“Thank you, my Dramok.” Oret’s voice was that of a man who’d just finished running a marathon.
“All right, my lovely,” Zemos said to Elisa. “Keep leaning back against Oret, and I’ll give you your reward. Good girl.”
He reached down to where he joined with her. The Kalquorian grasped her clit and rolled it between finger and thumb.
Elisa’s entire body jerked into paroxysm, straining as his touch shot her straight up to the pinnacle of fever. Heat bloomed as if sparks had come from his fingertips. It billowed into outright flame and exploded. Her body streamed fire. Elisa burned and burned, flaring brightness greater than any sun.
As the pulses slowly dimmed, she became aware of Zemos and Oret moaning in bestial bursts, their cocks pulsing within her. The pair rocked back and forth and from side to side, barely maintaining their balance as they gave themselves over to pleasure.