Gulping down saliva, Mia gave his urethra a wide lick with her tongue, coating the topmost part of his phallus with spit and lapping away the pre-cum as she pulled back.
She swallowed once again, staring up at him.
Then, she leaned forward, calming her lips around the head of his shaft, tongue licking out within the wet and hot orifice and lapping at his urethra, devouring any pre-cum that emerged, cheeks hollowed as she sucked hard enough to force Marke to take a deep breath.
He wasn't the only one with specialties, apparently.
She pulled away once again, parting her lips to present his pre-c*m, transparent and like water, which pooled on her tongue.
"Swallow," Marke said.
First, she played with it, swirling it around in her tongue, allowing it to coat every inch of her mouth; then, clamping her lips shut, she swallowed as the center of her neck rose and fell.
She opened her mouth again, this time devoid of content.
"You weren't wrong about the woman being wild," Marke said to Ms. Terri, gazing down upon her.
Ms. Terri glared at him, saying nothing, lips shut.
"I feel bad for her, Marke," Mia pursed her lips comically to a sad expression. "Why don't you give her a taste too?"
"Fuck yo—" Just as Ms. Terri opened her mouth to cuss, Marke lowered himself, the underside of his shaft plopping down on Kein's lips, cutting her off, and his ballsack hovering over her eyes.
"That's mine for now." Mia grabbed hold of the base of his shaft, tugging him forward. "She gets the balls."
But Marke stayed still.
This was dangerous territory. Even if Ms. Terri wanted to be degraded, Marke had to get consent from the women foremost. This wasn't his girlfriend. She was the majority shareholder of the largest real estate firm in Picket, with her net worth in the billions.
If they don't care about it, why do you? The question, similar to one Ms. Terri had asked in regard to her former gatekeeper, echoed in his mind.
He decided to just ask.
"Is that okay, Ms. Terri?" He asked.
Breaths from her nostrils kept hitting the underside. He heard her gulp.
"It's fine, Marke," Mia reassured with a smile. "She loves it. It takes a long while to know beneath the bitchy facade, she's waiting to be put in her place." She locked her eyes with Ms. Terri, lifting her shaft. "You're okay with it, right?"
Ms. Terri didn't answer at first, pursing her lips. "Oh, don't do that. You know I know you more than anyone. Don't waste my time so I can get back to devouring this." Mia smacked her lips on his shaft with a thwack. "Answer now, princess, or else you won't even get those."
The power dynamic had suddenly shifted, leaving Marke confused. Their playful, competitive friendship, with both never backing down, had collapsed right before him, with Mia instead taking the dominant position.
"Y-yes."
"See?" Mia smiled, her smile amicable.
The switch between a sweet, horny woman and a dominatrix is quite jarring. He thought.
With the confirmation, Marke moved forward on his knees, straddling her face, breaths tickling his sack.
Marke had never done this before—riding another woman's face.
It was always the other way around.
He lowered himself, the skin of his wrinkly and dark ballsack spreading out to fully cover Ms. Terri's full lips.
His shaft twitched at the sensation.
"Oh, he likes it," Mia pointed out, shifting back on Mia's abdomen, breasts no longer squashed together as they were. "I think he'll like this even more."
She engulfed the head of his general once more, tongue lashing at his head with a steady motion of a fast descent and a slow, gradual drag upwards, on repeat.
There wasn't enough participation from both sides, however, as Ms. Terri's lips were flat and unmoving.
Marke had all the confirmation now—Ms. Terri wanted to be degraded and put in her place. An ironic fetish, considering she was considered by most of Picket City to be a beacon of wealth, elegance, and decency.
Just like she had done to Mia prior, Marke grabbed Terri's dark left nipple and tweaked it. "Tongue out, now."
As a masseur, Marke was in the business of serving. And he was more than happy to serve to bring Ms. Terri's fetish to reality.
Ms. Terri squealed under his balls, taking breaths as her abdomen rose and fell, her hands balling into fists.
Mia pulled away from his shaft, a trail of saliva connecting her to his phallus, and spat on it, gliding her palm from the tip and coating his rod with it.
"See? That's how you talk to this bit*h," she said, stroking him. With her left hand, she swatted Ms. Terri's right breast, causing her to yelp again. "Is your tongue out yet, princess?" She asked, swatting it again. "Huh?"
Marke felt her lips part under his sack, poking out and beginning to lick.
'You have this woman in a chokehold,' Marke mouthed to Mia, giving her a thumbs up as he reveled in the licking and also the fact that the high and mighty Ms. Terri, who was a beacon, was under him, performing an objectively degrading act. It appealed to his ego as well as his balls. A win-win.
'Wait,' Mia mouthed back, her arms going behind between Kein's legs.
Ms. Terri made a muffled sound, exhaling a long breath, legs tucked in trying to close.
"Calm down, princess," Mia placated, pulling her arms out, her outstretched index finger glistening with juices.
"You know back in college," Mia started, staring mischievously at Kein, "in our club—"
Marke felt Ms. Terri struggle against him, legs suddenly thrashing and twisting, and arms rising to push him off, only for Mia to catch them midway and pin her to the ground.
"It's nothing, princess; I'm just telling a little story, that's all."
"Don't!" A muffled scream against his balls.
Marke wasn't pressing down on the woman. If she wanted, she would easily move her to the side to utter words coherently. Marke realized this was all a farce. The woman was protesting as an act, and Mia somehow knew.
"Anyways, in our club, there used to be eight members. Let's not get into names and specifics, but Kein was popular for one thing, you know what?" Mia leaned down, nearing his balls. "Eating pu*sy like a dog would a bone, isn't that right, princess?"