Three-Way Mistress: Part Four

Dillion’s in way over her pretty head. First she banged Dad, then fucked his daughter, then fucked her again while they played make-believe. Now she’s sprawled across her own bed hammering two fingers inside herself when Sinn rings at the perfect second. Dillion’s too horny to resist the bait. Five minutes later she’s at Sinn’s house, lips mashed, tits already out, stumbling straight into a bait-and-switch trap. Mommy India’s waiting in the bedroom like a shark in still water. She jerks Dillion onto her knees and hisses that it isn’t the limp-dick husband she’s pissed about—Dillion fucked her girl, and that debt’s due. Dillion mumbles something about being a lesbian now; India and Sinn just burst out laughing. Their hands peel off her cheap tank and thong, yank her legs open, and pin her down for the kind of “apology” that leaves bite marks. Dillion obeys every filthy command—licking, grinding, begging—until Sinn creams all over her tongue while India watches, eyes dark. Then Mommy slips out of her robe and the heat goes nuclear. Skin slapping, three bodies twisting on drenched sheets, moans bouncing off the walls; you’ll hit rewind before the first scene even ends.