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There is an ache between her legs when Mira wakes up. It’s the first sensation that registers amongst the warm cocoon of sleep surrounding her. A dull twist in her lower belly, arousal tugging insistently until she’s forced to focus on it. The chance of ignoring it is slim with how fast molten heat pools in a space right behind her pelvis, a little heavy, a little weighty with how needy it makes her feel.
Eyelids flutter open softly, squinting against the warm sunbeams pouring into the bedroom. It’s Rumi’s bedroom they’ve crashed in last night, Mira remembers, evident by the sunlight passing through the window pane of the terrace doors. Rumi’s cute little balcony garden. As if summoned by Mira’s thoughts, leafy greens peek in from the corners of the sliding glass door, jostled by the breeze, making Mira’s lips curve into a smile.
Another throb between her legs makes Mira whimper, a soft needy sound that punches its way out of her lungs as she squirms atop soft sheets. The blankets are large and silk-soft, and absolutely hogged by Zoey, their adorable little blanket thief in the night. Mira lays there for a moment to admire her girls, her gaze roaming between Rumi and Zoey’s sleeping forms.
Love worms its way into the depths of her chest and makes a home there, as it always does ever since Mira’s first meeting with Rumi and then Zoey. She sighs loftily, feeling adoration tinting the weight of her exhale. Peaceful expressions adorn Rumi and Zoey’s faces, and Mira is content to just lie here and watch them slumber.
Again, the throb between her legs turns unbearable, making Mira’s breath hitch in her throat. She sinks her teeth into the swell of her bottom lip, stifling the whine of a moan that tries crawling out of her mouth. Arousal makes its way through her body, pooling to the pit of her belly where the pressure slowly coils tighter and tighter, reminding Mira of her need. Of her wants. Of how much she craves relief that borders on obscene.
Without another thought, Mira slides onto her stomach, lying there for a brief second before she sits up on her knees. Rumi lies in the middle with Zoey on her right side. Mira sighs gently as she throws a leg over Rumi’s hips and straddles a strong thigh, an imperceptible whimper leaving her lips as firm pressure settles against her core.
The pair of lace panties hugging her hips is the only barrier between her wet pussy and Rumi’s toned thigh.
And god, what an unexpected tease it is.
Slowly, Mira begins rolling her hips in semi-half circles, dragging her soaked cunt across the length of Rumi’s thigh. The lace provides a delicious texture with each increasingly wet glide against Rumi’s thigh, and it has Mira gasping and moaning quietly, reverent little debauched noises that grace the early morning.
Soft heat curls in her lower belly, and Mira shudders gently as she feels that warmth taking root before spreading throughout her body. Awakening by lust, inch by inch, until all of her senses are solely focused on the exquisite friction of Rumi’s thigh flushed against her pussy. She’s soaked, the lace fabric practically see-through now, and Mira knows that her pink pussy paints a salacious sight if her lovers were to wake up suddenly now.
They don’t though, still peacefully slumbering away, unaware that Mira is using their bodies to chase her own pleasure. The thought is intoxicating enough to send a vicious thrill zipping up her spine like an electric jolt. She moans, low and throaty, letting the shameless sound carry through the bedroom. They’ve talked about this, yes, but the reality of actually going through with using each other’s bodies for self-pleasure is rare in between their busy day-to-day lives. ‘Free use,’ Zoey had mentioned the proper technical term with a sly grin.
It makes Mira blush at the concept, at the thought of Rumi and Zoey using her body whenever they please. Another twist of arousal makes itself known in her belly, and Mira stutters out a breathy noise as her hips jerk in response. She likes the idea a lot. The slick dripping from her is evidence enough, abundant and shiny as she smears it across the top of Rumi’s thigh.
Mira drags the hem of her sleep shirt upward, revealing her naked chest as she leaves the hem clamped between her teeth. Her hands ghost across her breasts, cupping the perky pair before rolling her stiff nipples. The jolt of pleasure is decadent as it shoots straight down to her clit. She massages her breasts gently, then firmly, tweaking the buds until the pain-pleasure is an electric buzz at the back of her head.
It feels so good touching her chest while grinding down on Rumi’s thigh. Every roll of her hips has her swollen clit pressing against the firm muscle there. A shockwave of pleasure ripples through Mira as she keeps a languid pace going.
But it’s not enough.
Mira whines quietly as she reaches for Zoey’s hand, bringing that slender hand up to her mouth. Mira kisses the pad of Zoey’s thumb before slipping it inside of her mouth, suckling on it slowly. It’s a sensual act, and Mira’s eyes flutter as it fills her mouth. Something about having her mouth full feels really nice. That fuzzy sensation at the back of her head grows until it tingles all over. She’s warm and buzzing, succumbing to the pleasure that courses through her mercilessly.
She’s a vision of temptation as she rolls her hips, grinding down on Rumi’s thigh as she sucks on Zoey’s thumb. Being touched by her lovers, using them like this while they’re sleeping—it feels so good that Mira can’t exactly articulate anything other than, “F-Fuck, please, ah, ah, hah—Rumi, yes, Zoey, f-feels so good…!”
It’s all breathy whimpers and gasps and moans as Mira loses herself in her pleasure. A tunnel vision narrowing down to just Rumi and Zoey. Zoey and Rumi. Her lovers. Hers. Hers.
Pleasure mounts steadily, and Mira is about to arrive at her peak when Rumi and Zoey stir awake, one after the other, jostled by the movement of Mira’s hips and the growing volume of her moans.
“W-What—“
“Holy shit…”
“Mira—“
“Zoey! R-Rumi!” A cry tumbles out of Mira as her eyes lock with her girlfriends, such a needy sound as she witnesses the moment realization dawns in their eyes, breathless at the way their eyes darken with hunger and dilate until it is but a yawning chasm staring back at her. A dark abyss full of desire aimed right at her.
Firm hands snap around her hips, another pair cradles the cage of her ribs on either side, and the touch makes Mira melt.
“Touch me, touch me—please!” A whine leaves Mira as her hips buck involuntarily. Feeling their hands on her is divine; their touch feels like pure electricity zipping across her skin, sparks dancing on her skin as it chases the molten arousal simmering beneath the surface. She mewls and whines as they caress her chest, glide down her sides, and squeeze at her hips with a promise to bruise in the morning. Oh, god, she hopes they leave marks hard enough to bruise. She wants to wear them, wants to wear their claims on her skin like decorated jewels.
“You’re so pretty, Mira.”
“Good fucking morning to us.” Zoey slurs as she scrambles onto her knees, maneuvering until she’s kneeling right behind Mira, her front flushed to Mira’s back. Her thumb is still held captive inside of Mira’s mouth, and she’s careful not to dislodge it during the shift in positions. Zoey’s free hand slides up Mira’s sternum, her palm warm as it settles right at the front of Mira’s throat.
A breathless gasp escapes Mira as she feels Zoey’s hand gently squeeze her neck. It shouldn’t affect her so much but it does. Oh, the pressure, oh, the way the firm grip cuts off Mira’s supply of oxygen like a gentle clamp. The slow depletion of air in her lungs burns so deliciously. Her clit throbs like her heart has shifted its way downward.
And the ironclad grip of Rumi’s hands around Mira’s hips urges her to keep rocking down, urges her to keep grinding down on Rumi’s firm thigh still wedged against her dripping core. It feels so good, every press down and every rub of friction against her sensitive cunt.
“F-Fuck…” Mira whines from the back of her throat, her cheeks blushing red hot as desperation paints her tone like a salacious whore.
“Good? How is it, pretty girl?” It’s Rumi who asks as she leans forward and presses her lips to Zoey’s knuckles, kissing the space in between Zoey’s fingers to get to Mira’s throat. The soft vibration of her murmur and the graze of warm lips makes Mira shudder in delight, and the following squeeze of Zoey’s hand makes her melt pliantly.
“G-Good… so good… hah.” The words are a struggle to get out as pleasure laps at Mira’s mind, reducing her to a simple drift amidst the ocean of euphoria pushing and pulling at her.
She succumbs to it as much as pleasure wounds around her, gripping her tightly in its unyielding grasp. Rumi pulls and pushes at her hips, dragging her across that muscled thigh and making Mira moan at the sight of being powerless against those strong hands. And Zoey kisses at her nape, nipping and tonguing at the dip of her spine before lavishing the space of her shoulder blades with wet, open-mouthed kisses and a plethora of filthy praises. She keeps that hand firm around Mira’s throat, increasing pressure steadily until there is no air allowed through.
It’s good, oh, it’s so fucking good. Mira sobs silently as pleasure contorts the features of her face. She writhes atop Rumi, held in place by Zoey at her back, and there is nowhere else that she would rather be than sandwiched between her two lovers.
“You’re so pretty when you’re trembling, Mira. Shaking and whining on my thigh… you’re dripping all over me.” Rumi rasps as she squeezes Mira’s hips, groaning at the slick slide of their bodies together. “Did using us while we were asleep get you wet? Did you like humping my leg, like leaving a mess on it?”
Mira can’t answer, too stunned by the visceral jolt of pleasure that zips through her when Rumi presses her hips down hard enough to have her clit rub just right against Rumi’s thigh. That, and the way Zoey presses her thumb down on the flat of Mira’s tongue, masterful strokes that render Mira’s brain into mush. The pressure against her two sensitive areas has Mira whining and keening, making a series of muffled, wanton noises that would put anyone else to shame.
“Mhmphm… mhphm!” Mira lets out another strangled moan, another warble of attempted words as her eyes droop half-lidded, dazed from all the stimulation washing over her senses.
Zoey chuckles as she drags her tongue up and down the dip of Mira’s spine, “So pretty when you can’t even get a single word out. It must feel so good, baby.”
Pressure coils in her lower belly, tighter and tighter until it’s taut and ready to snap. Mira feels it coming, and it’s like standing before a tidal wave, powerless, helpless before its mercy. Her semblance of control snaps when Rumi leans in and kisses the left side of her jaw while Zoey kisses at the hinge of her jaw on the opposite side. The simultaneous touch unravels Mira simply from the combination of Rumi and Zoey, and the way they sink their teeth into her skin like a natural claim.
“Come for us… I wanna see you make a mess on top of Rumi. Be good for us, Mira. Come for us.” And with that, Zoey loosens her grip on Mira’s throat but keeps her hand settled on the skin of her neck, savoring the rapid pulse of Mira’s heartbeat thumping against her palm.
A loud cry rips out of Mira’s throat as her orgasm slams into her, a merciless force that pulls the rug out from underneath Mira until she is free falling in the throes of pleasure. The rush of oxygen to her brain is a devastating eruption of ecstasy and relief. Stars burst in her vision, and her body jerks and seizes as white-hot pleasure ripples through her, scattering every ounce of consciousness until nothing but sheer, unadulterated euphoria remains. A gush of wetness soaks her panties, Rumi’s thigh, and a partial portion of Rumi’s sleep shorts.
A chorus of moans and muttered curses mingle in the air as the girls press closer to each other, drawn into the other’s gravity. They orbit like a cluster of stars, circling and circling, unable to leave each other’s sides as if separation would be a fate worse than death itself.
“We’re here, you’re safe, Mira. And you did so well for us.” Zoey murmurs her warm affirmations into the skin of Mira’s nape, kissing the curves of Mira’s shoulders like she’s worshipping at an altar.
“Good girl… so good. So pretty like this for us.” Rumi doubles down following Zoey’s lead and her praises are spoken with a husky rasp, her eyes gleaming with equal parts desire and adoration. She kisses the flushed skin of Mira’s chest as her hands massage at Mira’s sides, gentle caresses that ground Mira as she drifts on the aftershocks of her pleasure.
Mira leans forward until she’s collapsing into Rumi’s front, her face buried in the crook of Rumi’s neck and shoulder. Tangled together, she pulls Zoey down with her, sighing happily at the warm pressure of her girlfriends’ sandwiching her from either side. She wiggles a little until she’s perfectly content, ignoring the soft giggles and the even softer kisses being peppered on her skin.
“Good morning.” Mira murmurs as she plants a kiss to Rumi’s collar and Zoey’s nearby hand. She drifts as she’s cuddled by Rumi and Zoey, smiling as their hands make reverent passes up and down her body, utterly content to feel her lovers everywhere.