B leaned against the kitchen counter, her eyes sparkling with mischief as C poured two glasses of wine. "Isa’s out till midnight, and her room’s just sitting there with that big mirror begging for trouble," she said, voice low and teasing. "Think we can make it steamier than her last ball gown disaster?"
C chuckled, handing her the glass. "You’re wicked, B. She wore that red dress to the ball, remember? Twirled around like she owned the night."
"Owned it? Please," B shot back, stepping closer, her hand brushing his thigh. "I saw her tits—small and perky, sure—but mine? Way better. Besides, she confessed to blowing some random club guy on the floor last year, then letting him eat her out for hours. Pathetic technique, no gagging, totally selfish. We’ll do it right, and I’ll come more times in her room than she ever has."
They slipped into Isa’s bedroom, the air thick with forbidden thrill. B stripped and slipped into Isa’s lacy black lingerie, heels clicking as she gave C a slow lap dance, grinding her ass against his growing hardness. "Feel that cock throbbing? Horny yet?" she whispered, witty and bold, before dropping to her knees for a deepthroat blowjob, gagging wetly as saliva dripped down her chin.
C pulled her up, spanking her ass playfully while she stayed in control, pushing him onto Isa’s chair. She rode him hard, her pussy dripping and wet around his cock, both of them sweating and panting as she dominated the rhythm. "Compare this to Isa’s flings—I bet she never deepthroated like me," B moaned, her strong grip guiding his hands.
The climax hit as C came hard inside her, then pulled out to paint cum across Isa’s lingerie and B’s face, the mess dripping onto the floor. They snapped a quick mirror selfie, B laughing triumphantly.
B straightened the room just enough to leave things slightly askew, pocketing one of Isa’s thongs with a wink. "Next time we raid her wardrobe properly."
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