tantrayaan

  The music changed - slower now, heavier, hips and sweat and heartbeat in every beat. But Bharath wasn’t hearing it anymore. All he could feel was Sarah’s tongue tracing the edge of his ear and Marisol grinding against his thigh like she was staking territory. He could feel the wetness and heat from her core.

  His lips were swollen from their mouths, his shirt damp from heat and friction. He’d long since stopped caring about the crowd. Every time he opened his eyes, someone was staring - and every time, he forgot them the moment Marisol pulled his hand back to her ass or Sarah tugged him down into another breathless kiss.

  They weren’t dancing anymore.

  They were feeding.

  “Someone’s gonna call security,” Bharath gasped, his hands now under Sarah’s bodysuit, thumbing the soft undercurve of her breasts.

  “They’d have to get in line,” Sarah moaned, kissing down his neck, her veil long gone.

  Marisol’s lipstick was smudged, her corset loosened just enough to make her breasts spill. She turned in his arms, pressed her mouth to his ear.

  “Come with us.”

  She grabbed his wrist and pulled him from the center of the floor. Sarah followed instantly, her fingers sliding into the back of his waistband as they moved - weaving past couples, through the blur of dancing limbs and strobe fshes.

  They reached a narrow hallway near the back of the club, just past the employee exit. A red EXIT sign flickered above, casting the corner in blood-colored light. A busted arcade machine stood abandoned in the corner, half-covered by shadow.

  No one was there.

  Marisol turned, already unzipping his fly.

  “Here?” he rasped.

  “Here,” she said. “Unless you want to rip my tights in public.”

  Sarah was already kissing him again, messier now, hungrier. Her hand slipped between them, tugging down his boxers.

  Marisol dropped to her knees.

  “We need this,” she whispered.

  “You’re our heater, remember?” Sarah added. “Warm us. Fill us. Right now.”

  He hissed between his teeth, hands tangling in their hair as he finally gave in to the fire they’d been stoking all night.

  Bharath’s grip on Marisol’s hair tightened as she struggled to swallow the full length of him.

  “Use her mouth, baby,” Sarah whispered as she bit his earlobe. “Show her who’s boss.”

  He couldn’t control himself. Ever since they’d teased him with that strip show in the morning, he’d been primed to explode. He was proud of how long he’d held out-no orgasms all day, despite their usual routine of multiple sessions. This had been denial on a divine scale.

  He tensed-and then came, hard.

  Wave after wave of hot seed flooded Marisol’s mouth. She gasped, barely keeping up, cum spilling from her lips and dripping down onto her breasts. It leaked from the corners of her mouth, down her throat, over her chest like a blessing and a punishment.

  It took a long, shuddering moment before he stopped. Marisol looked up at him, panting, cum-smeared, flushed with pride. Her torso looked like a Jackson Pollock painting.

  Sarah pulled Marisol up until they were chest to magnificent chest. She smiled wickedly.

  “Looks like you missed a spot, honey.”

  “Clean me up?” Marisol murmured, breathless. “He’s delicious.”

  Bharath could only stare, sck-jawed, as his gorgeous girlfriends leaned into each other for a kiss that made time stop.

  Sarah licked Marisol as lewdly as possible-first tracing, then scooping, then turning to show Bharath his own cum on her tongue before swallowing dramatically. His cock sprang back to full attention.

  Sarah cupped Marisol’s breasts, squeezing them together as she licked the remaining cum from her skin, her lips dragging over her curves like worship. Marisol moaned and tangled her fingers in Sarah’s hair, guiding her with a shared hunger.

  “Don’t finish it all, bitch,” Marisol groaned. “We both worked for that.”

  “Greedy slut,” Sarah teased. “You already got a stomach full.”

  Still, Sarah scooped up the st of his cum from Marisol’s cleavage and pulled her in. Before kissing her again, both girls turned toward Bharath-tongues out, swapping the final drop between them with a filthy, sacred devotion.

  “Enjoy that, baby?” Marisol crooned.

  Bharath could only croak, heart hammering against his ribs.

  The hallway pulsed faintly with the beat from the dance floor, the bass sliding like a heartbeat through the cracked concrete. Behind them, the crowd moved in chaotic rhythm - bodies grinding, lights strobing - but here in this forgotten corner near the busted arcade cabinet and half-open utility door, time slowed.

  Marisol pressed Bharath against the wall, her breath already ragged, her thighs trembling from the hour of teasing.

  Sarah was on his other side, her costume almost completely off, one hand sliding down his back to clutch at his waist.

  “I want you now,” Marisol whispered, voice hoarse. “Right here.”

  Bharath swallowed hard. “This is insane.”

  “It’s perfect,” Sarah said, licking his ear. “The music’s so loud, no one will hear a thing. And even if they do…”

  Marisol kissed him - open, filthy, possessive. “They’ll just wish it was them.”

  She was already hitching her skirt higher.

  “Tear them baby. I don’t need them anymore,” said Marisol as she directed Bharath’s hands to her tights.

  He was happy to force his fingers through the thin material and rip them apart exposing her bare dripping pussy. The tights were ruined-soaked through at the inner thigh and now torn beyond salvage.

  Bharath buried his face in Marisol’s overflowing breasts, sucking violently as he inserted two fingers into Marisol’s swampy core. Marisol squealed loudly as she pulled Bharath’s head deeper into her cleavage and humped at his fingers violently. In just five seconds, as he expertly found her g-spot, she climaxed noisily squirting all over his hands. Marisol took his fingers and sucked on his fingers greedily tasting herself.

  Sarah took his other hand towards her own pussy. Bharath could feel the heat between her legs before he even touched her. Sarah moaned softly as she guided his hand down between her thighs, slipping his fingers under the sheer ce of her bodysuit.

  “Take us,” she whispered. “Take both your sluts, Bharath. Destroy us for anyone else.”

  His mind blurred - the hunger, the rhythm, the lights behind his eyes. He wasn’t sure who moved first, who pulled what. All he knew was that Marisol had turned around and bent forward against the wall, one leg lifted just enough to give him access.

  Sarah stayed pressed against his front, kissing him with desperate, unbroken contact as she guided his hand between her thighs, her own leg wrapped around his.

  Bharath gasped. “You’re both…”

  “Wet,” Sarah finished. “Soaked for you.”

  Marisol groaned. “Now, Bharath. Now.”

  Bharath's breath came out in a stutter as Marisol arched her back against the wall, one red heel braced high, her skirt bunched at her waist. She looked over her shoulder, eyes gleaming in the red light.

  “Now,” she growled. “I need you inside me.”

  Sarah’s hand wrapped around him, stroking him to full, aching hardness. Her mouth crushed against his as her other hand cupped his balls with greedy possession. “And I need your fingers,” she murmured, already guiding his hand back beneath her bodysuit. “Like st night. Just deeper. Harder.”

  He was shaking with need - overwhelmed, intoxicated by their scent, their sounds, their sheer surrender. They weren’t just offering him pleasure. They were offering him themselves. Here. Now. Without apology.

  Marisol reached back and pulled him into her in one slow, wet glide. The moment he filled her, they both groaned - hers sharp, relieved, aching. Him nearly undone already.

  “God,” she hissed. “You feel so good. You stretch me so good! So deep!”

  Sarah, still wrapped around him, tilted her head back and let out a soft moan as Bharath’s fingers slid inside her, two at once, curling upward just right. She clutched his forearm, her body already rocking with each stroke.

  He thrust into Marisol slowly at first, not wanting to lose control - but she pushed back against him, relentless, greedy for every inch.

  “Harder,” she gasped. “You’re not gentle with your girls in the shadows. Not tonight.”

  The music from the club pounded against the walls, thudding like a second heartbeat. The darkness cloaked them, the red light painting them in fevered strokes. Anyone could walk down this hallway. Anyone could see.

  And none of them cared.

  Sarah kissed him again, biting his lip this time. “Touch me harder, Bharath. Like you own me.”

  His fingers obeyed, plunging deeper, thumb rolling over her slick clit. She was trembling now, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her legs nearly buckled, and she clung to him tighter, one hand on his neck, the other cwing lightly down his chest.

  Marisol was moaning openly now, rhythm matching his thrusts, her voice low and wrecked. “I love when you take us like this,” she groaned. “When you can’t decide who to break first.”

  He didn’t know how he was holding on. One hand buried in Sarah, his cock buried in Marisol, their bodies pressed against him, hungry and desperate and completely his.

  Sarah’s thighs began to shake. “I’m close-oh god, don’t stop-don’t stop.”

  Marisol turned her head, sweat dripping down her temple. “Make us come, Bharath. Both of us. Now.”

  He drove forward harder, faster, his fingers pumping, hips smming, muscles tight and burning.

  Sarah cried out first - soft and ragged, burying her face in his neck as her body convulsed around his fingers, soaking him, gasping against his skin.

  Then Marisol came.

  Her whole body tightened around him as she pushed back hard, letting out a strangled moan that was half growl, half sob. Her hands braced on the wall, her thighs trembling violently, her climax tearing through her like a storm.

  The sounds of the club swallowed them whole.

  But in this red-lit corner of the world, only they existed.

  Sarah kissed him - dazed and messy and adoring. Marisol leaned her forehead against the wall, panting, whispering his name like a prayer.

  And Bharath, still buried inside Marisol, still slick with Sarah’s heat on his hand, felt the world tilt around him.

  “Switch pces. I want Sarah now. Sarah, face down on the wall, ass out.”

  Sarah rushed to comply as Bharath unsheathed himself from Marisol and drove himself into her almost all the way to the hilt in just one thrust. She screamed loudly as Bharath spanked her as he smmed into her.

  Marisol kissed Sarah as she joined Bharath in vioting her by rubbing her clit as he pounded into her. Sarah was almost catatonic as Bharath treated her body like a pything, forcefully thrusting in and out like a piston.

  She didn’t st long as her knees buckled when she orgasmed loudly, squirting all over Marisol’s fingers as Bharath didn’t let up. She shrieked her way through multiple orgasms squirting so much that a small puddle had formed underneath her. After her fourth or fifth orgasm, she couldn’t stay up anymore and almost colpsed - only held up by Bharath and Marisol.

  They didn’t move for a long moment.

  The music still pulsed through the walls, but to Bharath, it sounded like it was coming from underwater. All he could hear was their breath - soft and syncopated. Marisol’s body still trembled against him, sweat glistening across her bare back. Sarah weakly turned and leaned on his chest, arms loose but clinging, her cheek against his beating heart.

  “Dios,” Marisol finally whispered, voice raw. “That was...”

  She couldn’t even finish.

  Bharath pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then kissed the top of Sarah’s head. “You’re both insane,” he murmured, voice hoarse.

  “We’re yours,” Sarah corrected, smiling faintly into his chest.

  He pulled out gently, careful not to break the stillness, and both girls let out soft gasps. Marisol straightened, smoothing her skirt with shaky fingers. Sarah gently licked his knuckles before guiding his hand up to her lips and kissing it properly.

  They were a mess - hair tangled, lipstick smeared, the scent of sweat and sex clinging to their skin.

  And none of them cared.

  Marisol turned around and looked at him, her eyes soft now. “You always make us feel so... full. Not just there,” she said, touching his chest. “Here.”

  Sarah nodded, her hand resting over his heart. “No one has ever seen me like this. Wanted me like this. Not without trying to take something.”

  Bharath swallowed hard. “When you look at me like that… I feel like I matter. Like I’m not just surviving here - I’m... finally living.

  “You take everything,” Marisol whispered. “And give it back. Brighter.”

  Bharath swallowed, his throat tight. “I don’t deserve either of you.”

  Sarah’s smile was tender and lethal. “You deserve us. Because you choose us. Every time.”

  And as they pulled him between them again, adjusting their clothes, fixing their hair, stealing one st kiss apiece before stepping back toward the light - Bharath knew: He’d never feel alone again.