He flicked on the kitchen light, illuminating a range of new possibilities. The room was immaculately clean, all utensils tidied away in his efforts to impose some kind of order on his life, while the divorce battle had thrown everything else into disarray. "Right, put her on the table," he instructed. Together he and Lysette hoisted the floundering Barbie-girl from her lowly position on the tiles and guided her roughly onto the sturdy oak table-top. She uttered feeble moans and squeaks as they laid her out on her back.
"What now?" Lysette was exhibiting wild-eyed passion for the game now. Something primal had been ignited within her. It was payback for the betrayal for sure, but the long evening of sucking, fucking and playing voyeur had also brought the filthiest version of this girl to the fore, forget that blackmail had set events in motion. It was one more unexpected element for Mac to play with, and he claimed the opportunity.
"Keep working over her tits," he instructed his surprise protΓ©gΓ©. "I'm going to see what's in the fridge."
The redhead reached from the head of the table and mashed both breasts with no shred of forgiveness, tugging hard on bottle-top nipples every time she closed her dual grasp. Her one-time partner keened and writhed, hands grasping for the support of the table's wooden edges as her tender flesh was tormented by those cruel hands. Mac broke from the gorgeous vision and went searching inside his modest fridge, glad that he had stocked up for a potential date once the divorce had been finalised. He found inspiration on the middle shelf.
"Let her go," he said, returning with the pouring cream. "Now watch this." The blonde's big tits were red with finger marks, as he peeled off the lid and let the contents of the tub spill in a high waterfall over each in turn. Her areolae were enveloped first, before the dairy thickness spilled over, creamy fingers reaching down to embrace both mounds. "You've got to admit, Lysette, that's fucking beautiful." The redhead ogled, unable to disguise delight at her blackmailer's improvisation. The object of admiration looked up in astonishment at her thickly coated boobs.
"Want to share?" he inquired of his helper.
The redhead breathed hot agreement. "Fuck yes."
Then they were either side of the blonde, lapping cream from the contours of her coated breasts and suckling on her hard nipples till she squealed. Their tongues skated and their mouths sucked, till cream dripped from their lips down both their chins. Mac's gaze met the redhead's across the mountainous surface of their joint feast. "Delicious?"
"Yes." As much lust glowed in her eyes as anger by now. He reached across the table and grasped a handful of curly red tresses, pulling her into an open-mouthed kiss. She sucked up his breath as hard as he did to hers, their tongues writhing in a creamy contest. He clenched her hard, consuming all the spite-drenched passion her mouth had to spend on him and demanding more, his free palm groping one of the blonde's slippery tits while he did it. This girl's kiss was a world of difference from that Imogen had bestowed on him - full of attack and rage - but it was still the kiss of a lover. When he broke from her she was panting and red in the face, cream and saliva dribbling from her chin like she was drooling her desire.
"You're still a bastard fucker," she hissed, in light of her mouth's passionate response.
"Yes - but I'm growing on you, aren't I?" He gripped her locks and graced her with a savage smile.
"Maybe. As long as we're not done with this bitch." She grabbed the other girl's currently unmolested breast, and together their squeezing extracted moans from Imogen's sagging mouth.
"Oh no - we're far from done," he promised his protΓ©gΓ©. "Go to the fridge and find the butterscotch syrup. I'm going to share a little cream with our neglected friend here."
Lysette smirked compliance and scurried on her assignment, delving into the fridge while Mac moved to the head of the table, his elevated cock casting a shadow across Imogen's face. The blonde was lolling in her abasement, eyes half-closed and fingers fluttering, as in a vain attempt to grasp hold of her situation. Mac took the container he had set aside and tipped it over himself, observing with a smile as the contents spilled over the head of his phallus, running thick down his long shaft to coat him in a creamy liquid cloak. He poured till it flowed past the root of his cock and trickled onto his balls. Spots pattered onto Imogen's nose and cheeks and she gasped, her gaze fixing itself on the cream-covered edifice that swayed above her.
"Your turn for dessert, sweetheart," he said, gripping her under the armpits and dragging her down the table's length, so that her hair draped backwards over the end with her head. "Open wide."
"Got it," Lysette announced, turning triumphantly from the fridge with the syrup bottle in her hand, but she stopped short when she saw Mac climbing onto the table's edge and fitting his thick-coated glans downwards into Imogen's stretching mouth. "Oh fuck," she breathed.
"As in - your friend's face?"
"Yes, that's right. Do it." The redhead was holding her breath, clutching the syrup in anticipation of the thrust. "Fuck her pretty face."
Imogen's eyes were impossibly wide circles of blue, her hands reaching instinctively to control the driving motion. Mac was having none of that. He gripped her upper arms and pushed, spearing his shaft down into her throat. "There," he said, burying his cream-dripping length with no regard for the girl's gagging. "Suck that up, Blondie. Take all that creamy goodness." He plunged deep, gripping her head and pulling her upwards, so that she could swallow the final inches. Cream was already oozing over her cheeks, before he pulled out. When he did, it ran in a great spit-enhanced river down her cheek and forehead, into her hair, as she gasped and spluttered. He plunged again, guiding her onto him and pumping in and out this time, his cock squelching and bubbling in her throat. "Fuck yes, girl. That's it, you take it all." His own throat constricted the words, such was his joy.
Astonishment had momentarily stalled Lysette, but now she approached the table with renewed eagerness, brandishing the plastic bottle. "So what do I do with this?"
Mac packed his cock to the balls inside Imogen and then pulled out, so that further creamy drool trailed over the blonde's face. "Smear it over her cunt," he said, fitting himself back into the gaping mouth and shoving, his knee levered hard against the table-top. "Smear it all over and lick it off."
Lysette's eyebrows raised a shade, but his glare put her straight and she flipped the cap, squirting butterscotch syrup all over her fingers. He urged Imogen back and forth on his cream-and-spit-lathered shaft, staring intently as Lysette reached between her plaything's thighs, spreading thick sweetness all over the exposed labia.
"Swathe it inside as well," Mac urged, watching until he was satisfied that a thorough coat had been applied to all of Imogen's parts. "Good. Now get your tongue in there and enjoy."
Lysette flung the bottle away, glaring at him, but climbing onto the table nonetheless and thrusting her face into the crotch of her criminal partner. Imogen moaned and then choked around his invading cock, as her friend commenced to explore. The redhead's tongue stroked flat and pink against the entrance to that syrup-smeared cunt, her eyes regarding Mac all the while.
"Tasty?" he inquired, drawing out his cock and allowing Imogen to suck in air. Lysette nodded in agreement, lapping with attention. "Butterscotch is a favourite of mine too. Make sure you get it all." Cock lodging itself deep in Imogen's throat once more, he reached down the table and grabbed Lysette's flaming locks, shoving the girl tight and intimate to her friend. "Tongue-fuck her," he ordered. "Go on, shove it deep. Eat out your friend's wet cunt." He seized Imogen's hair as well, pushing her to him so that her lips stretched around the base of his shaft, while his other closed fist mashed Lysette's face against that sopping snatch. "Fuck," he panted, the insanity of it all threatening once more to overwhelm. "Jesus. This is my kind of fucking party."
Imogen gurgled as Lysette feasted, Mac revelling in the moment until he knew it was time to restrain himself or blow his load. He retracted his cock in its messy glory from the blonde's throat, pulling up the redhead from her cunt-licking duties and planting a firm kiss on her stained mouth. His tongue stroked inside and he imbibed the gorgeous nectar.
"Pussy and butterscotch," he said, on breaking the caress. "My new favourite flavour. Let's turn her over."
He was off the table and flipping Imogen before Lysette could react, the redhead extricating herself from between the blonde's flailing legs, her face still smeared with pussy juice. Imogen was a confused and bleary mess, her lovely face plastered with cream-drool and mascara. "Get to work," he said, shoving his saliva-slick erection before her mouth, as she crouched there panting, eyes full of panic and wonder. "Go on, clean me up. Get sucking." He made to grab a fistful of hair, but she had slurped up inches of him and was sucking hard before his hand closed.