Then they'd switch.
Lyra took him deeper—throat opening up, lips stretching wide around his girth. She gagged a little, eyes watering, but she didn't stop. Spit dripped down her chin and onto her tits. Jessica caught it with her tongue, licking the mess right off Lyra's skin, then went back to lapping at whatever part of Satou's shaft wasn't buried in Lyra's throat.
Satou's hands fisted in their hair—one dark, one silver. His thighs shook. "You're gonna make me blow before I even touch pussy," he growled.
Jessica pulled off with a wet slurp. A thick string of spit connected her lip to his cock. "Not yet," she panted. "We want you throbbing inside us first."
Lyra nodded, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Bed. Now."
