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Double Trouble at the Kudo
Suite 109, Kudo Hotel, Late Afternoon
The first-floor balcony door slid open with a soft shhh, letting in a breath of salt air and sun-heavy warmth. The scent of pool chlorine clung faintly to their skin, mixed with something floral and sticky-sweet–like jasmine and sex.
Lara stepped in first, barefoot, still damp, her white bikini clinging to her curves as if it had been painted on. The triangle at the back had wedged itself deliciously high between her cheeks, and she didn’t fix it. She knew exactly what it was doing. She’d watched heads turn all the way up the hotel staircase.
Camille followed close behind, still toweling her dark curls with lazy grace, her pink one-piece glossy and soaked, nearly see-through now at the curves of her breasts. “Mmm,” she purred, looking around the room. “He’s still in bed.”
Propped up on the pillows, Lara’s husband smiled. Guilty, already half-hard, and entirely caught in the act of watching. The sheet barely covered him to the waist, and both girls could see the clear silhouette of his cock gently pressing up beneath it, twitching slightly as they walked in.
Lara grinned. “Did you miss us?”
She didn’t wait for the answer — of course he had. They’d been strutting around the pool all afternoon, hips swaying, water beading on their skin. And he always liked seeing Lara in a swimsuit — the way she wore it, how it hugged her breasts, the teasing sway of her barely-covered cheeks, the slow drag of fabric between her legs when she climbed out of the water — like watching sin stretch itself in sunlight.
She knew. And so did Camille, so she didn’t wait for the answer. Instead, she walked directly to the window–floor-to-ceiling glass, looking out over the pool–and pressed one hand against it as she arched her back, showing off her curves in golden silhouette. Her rear jutted out toward him, glistening, high. She tilted her head just enough to make eye contact with her reflection, then turned slightly so her husband’s eyes could catch the swell of her breast and the curve of her thigh.
Camille joined her with a wink. “We owe him a few poses, don’t we?” She lifted her foot to the small bench by the window and slowly peeled her wet suit down to the waist, teasing one nipple free as if it had just slipped.
Lara leaned into Camille, brushing hips. “Don’t tease. He’ll explode before we start.”
Camille giggled and licked a droplet from Lara’s collarbone. “That’s the point.”
They took turns–Lara pressing her chest against the glass, arching up onto her toes so her butt stretched higher, her bikini bottom revealing nearly all of her ass — just a shimmering triangle of fabric that left little to the imagination. Camille crouched behind, playfully tugging that strip of white fabric just a little to the side, just enough to hint but not show.
“He loves this angle,” Lara whispered, glancing over her shoulder.
“I know,” Camille said. “He’s not blinking.”
Together they turned and knelt at the edge of the bed, crawling up from the foot like two cats in heat. Camille’s wet hair hung in tendrils around her face, and Lara’s lips were parted, skin flushed from sun and want.
Their hands brushed, bare thighs pressing as they crawled closer to him.
Lara reached first–resting a palm on his chest, trailing fingers down slowly toward his waistband. “You look.. impatient.”
“He was probably watching us from the balcony,” Camille said, her voice dripping with mock-innocence. “I could feel it. Every time you arched your back, Lara. He wanted to grab the camera. Or maybe just grab you.”
Lara giggled and bit her lip. “I did do that on purpose.”
“He’s lucky I let you come back upstairs.”
She leaned in now, brushing her mouth just beside Lara’s cheek, and turned to whisper into the husband’s ear: “We had a plan, you know. A game. I told her whoever got the most looks gets first turn. But really.. we both won.”
Lara’s hand slipped under the sheets. Not shy. Not soft. Just enough to make him gasp.
“Still warm?” she teased. “Let’s heat you up more.”
Camille’s fingers touched Lara’s wrist, then trailed up her arm and over her shoulder. “Don’t get greedy. You’re not the only one who wants to play.”
Lara turned, lips nearly brushing Camille’s. “He’s mine.”
“Only if you earn it.”
They both laughed, tension like static between them now–coiled, wet, glowing. Camille leaned back on her heels, watching Lara’s hand work under the sheets, then reached around Lara’s waist and tugged her bikini top loose.
“He won’t last if you keep that up.”
“Then you’d better distract me.”
Camille’s eyes sparkled. “Gladly.”
___
Lara’s fingers were still under the sheets, slow, teasing, coaxing. Her husband’s eyes fluttered half-shut, lips parted with a soft grunt as her hand worked him up. He was already hard, twitching under her touch. Camille, perched beside her, grinned bağcılar escort like she’d planned this moment all along.
“Is he ready,” Lara whispered, biting her lip.
“Oh, he’s ready?” Camille teased. “And you haven’t even taken your top off properly yet.”
Lara winked. “That’s your job.”
“Mmm.” Camille leaned in, lowering her voice like she was telling a secret. “You should’ve seen her by the pool,” she began, gaze fixed on the husband. “Every man there was struggling not to drool.”
She shifted her weight, one leg folding beneath her, so she could settle closer behind Lara. The pink one-piece she wore was still half unzipped from earlier, her breasts peeking out. Her voice dipped darker. “It was ridiculous, really. The way the water clung to her. How her bikini tried to keep up but just.. gave up.” She trailed a finger along Lara’s spine. “That little white triangle didn’t hide anything. Not her nipples. Not her ass. Especially not when she leaned over for the sunscreen.”
Lara shivered, her hand still moving under the sheets. “Camille.. “
“I’m just telling him the truth,” Camille purred. “Your nipples were begging. And your cheeks? Jiggle like they want to be bitten.”
The husband groaned, hips twitching. Lara let out a giggle that bordered on a moan.
Camille’s fingers slid up Lara’s sides, dragging water along her skin, and tugged at the damp strings of her bikini top. “May I?”
Lara tilted her head back, eyes half-closed. “Take it.”
With a gentle tug, the white top fell away, sliding down Lara’s arms. Her breasts bounced free, nipples dark, already hard from attention and the air. Camille cupped one from behind, massaging with both tenderness and intent.
“God, these are beautiful.”
Her fingers found Lara’s nipple, warm and already stiff. She rolled it gently between her fingertips, then gave the slightest tug — not enough to hurt, just enough to make Lara arch her back and moan. She leaned forward and whispered, “You love having these played with, don’t you?”
“Yes.. “
“You love when he watches me touch you like this. You love being told how hot you are.”
Lara nodded, her hand never stopping under the sheets. “Keep talking.”
Camille leaned closer to Lara’s husband now, still cupping her breast, her voice a filthy purr. “I saw two guys nearly trip over their drinks when she bent over by the pool. You should’ve seen her arch her back. She knows how juicy she looks. And that bikini? It was soaked through. Transparent. White against brown. You could see everything. Her ass, her pussy. Every curve, dripping, stretched tight in the sun.”
Lara gasped. “Camille!”
“What? You know it’s true. And you know he loves hearing it.”
Camille kissed Lara’s neck. “Did you tell him how many people stared at your rear when we walked upstairs?”
“No.. “
“You should.”
Lara turned her head slightly, voice shaky with pleasure. “I could feel their eyes. One guy followed us halfway up the stairs. I could feel my bikini sticking between my cheeks.”
“And you didn’t fix it,” Camille whispered, sliding her fingers down Lara’s sides. “You wanted them to stare. You love being paraded.”
“Yes.. ” Lara’s hand stilled under the sheet for a moment, then picked up again, faster now.
Camille grinned and reached down. “Let me help.”
She ran her hands over Lara’s hips, then gently eased down the sides of her bikini bottoms. They were damp, white, clinging to every fold and curve. Lara shifted under the sheet, one hand still teasing her husband while Camille leaned in, giving her soft, warm kisses along her shoulder, her neck, and just under her ear.
Camille peeled the fabric back further — first at the front, exposing the smooth, bare curve of Lara’s pussy. Then at the rear, revealing more of her cheeks, soft and glistening.
“Mmm.. smooth as ever,” Camille murmured, brushing her lips just below Lara’s jaw. “Someone’s been keeping things very ready.. “
Beneath the sheet, Lara’s hand was still moving — slow strokes, deliberate. Her husband wasn’t just hard now — he was beginning to throb, every twitch betraying just how much the show was getting to him. Lara felt it. She gave a quiet, wicked smile.
Camille stayed close, her body pressed along Lara’s side. As Lara played under the sheet, Camille’s hands explored with their own rhythm — wandering from Lara’s breasts to her stomach, then trailing down her back in a slow glide. She cupped Lara’s ass again, then slid her fingers gently underneath her, letting them rest in the soft crease. Lara let her legs fall wider, her knees drifting apart in silent invitation. Camille took it.
Her fingers were at Lara’s front and back at once — one hand cupping Lara’s mound, her fingertips slick and teasing, while the other traced the delicate dip of her ass with slow, circular strokes. Camille didn’t rush. She toyed with the edges, feather-light, coaxing bahçelievler escort Lara into a soft, breathless whimper. Lara gasped, her body reacting before her voice could — a tremor through her belly, her thighs twitching in small, involuntary spasms. Her hips shifted, tilting up and forward, trying to guide Camille’s fingers where she needed them. Camille smiled, her mouth brushing Lara’s ear. “You like that, don’t you?” she whispered, then gave another gentle stroke — not quite in, not quite out — just enough to make Lara moan again, needier this time, her whole body begging for more.
“You’re so wet.”
Lara groaned. “Yes.. “
Camille turned to the husband, who was clearly struggling to hold back. “She’s already dripping. Just from being touched and talked about. She’s such a greedy little thing. Aren’t you, Lara?”
Lara whimpered. “Yes.. “
Camille slipped one hand down fully, brushing Lara’s clit, while the other traced the gentle slope of her rear, letting her fingers glide along the slick, sensitive bridge between her pussy and her asshole, teasing the whole stretch with slow, deliberate strokes. “If you keep rubbing him like that, he’ll finish before I get to taste you.” “Maybe that’s what I want,” Lara teased through a breathy moan.
Camille leaned in and licked just beneath her earlobe. “Naughty girl.”
The sheets were bunched up now. Lara’s breasts were bare, rising and falling with every breath. Camille’s hands worked expertly–one teasing her clit, the other now sliding fully between her cheeks.
“I haven’t even licked you yet,” Camille whispered, her tone darker now. “But you’re already clenching.”
Lara whimpered. “I can’t help it.. “
“You love fingers in both places, don’t you?”
Lara could barely nod.
Camille looked at the husband again. “We’re just warming her up. She’s going to be begging soon.”
“I’m already close,” Lara confessed.
“Oh, no no,” Camille giggled. “We’re not there yet.”
She pulled her hands back slowly, letting Lara whine from the loss. “Let’s take this slow. Let him watch. Let him get hungrier.”
Lara collapsed onto her side, still stroking her husband, her breasts swaying with the motion, nipples wet and aching. Camille curled behind her, resting her chin on Lara’s shoulder, both of them staring into his eyes.
“You’re not allowed to come yet,” Camille said firmly, “Not until she begs out loud.”
Lara turned her face toward Camille’s, lips brushing. “I might already.”
Camille kissed her–slow, wet, deep–and the room went silent except for breath and the quiet slap of Lara’s hand under the sheet.
Then Camille whispered, “Next round.. I want you on his face. Let him taste how wet you are while I taste him.”
Lara moaned into her mouth.
And he throbbed under the sheets again.
___
Camille didn’t wait.
As soon as Lara’s hips shifted and her moan turned into a whimper, Camille reached down and tugged the last of Lara’s bikini bottoms over her thighs and off her legs. They clung a little–wet fabric kissing her skin all the way down–before snapping loose at the knees. Camille tossed them to the floor like a peeled fruit skin, and Lara blushed as she knelt there, completely naked now, cheeks and lips glistening under the soft glow of the fading sunlight.
Her husband lay flat on the bed, pillow under his head, cock still under the sheet, but standing upright, twitching with anticipation.
“Now,” Camille said, voice low and wicked, “put that perfect ass over his face.”
Lara gasped–but moved immediately.
She crawled over him, hair spilling forward, her curves swaying with every breath, her rear high and exposed. She planted one knee on either side of his head and began to lower herself, slowly, deliberately. The view was exquisite. Her pussy, flushed and slick, glistened in the soft light, lips parting slightly with each tremble of anticipation. A single drop slid down, catching the light before falling. Just above, her asshole flexed with every breath — smooth, dark, and freshly oiled, twitching from Camille’s earlier touch. The bridge between the two was taut and shiny, every inch of her on bold, eager display.
Her husband’s eyes widened as her cheeks spread–just above his mouth–so close he could feel the heat of her skin.
Camille moaned at the sight. “Hold still. Let him look.”
Lara stopped, trembling. Her rear twitched open slightly, slick and dark. She turned, then leaned down toward her husband’s waist. Her hand slipped beneath the sheet and pulled it back, baring his length. With a hungry look in her eyes, she took him into her mouth — slow, deep, deliberate.
He groaned, hips lifting slightly, but Lara held him steady, her lips soft and greedy as she began to work him with her tongue.
Camille moved behind them, kneeling on the bed. She watched for a moment — Lara’s arched back, her cheeks şirinevler escort flexing as she sucked, her thighs slightly parted, the curve of her ass glistening under the soft light. Camille reached out, brushing both hands over Lara’s hips and rear, then lower still.
With one hand she spread Lara’s cheeks wide, exposing her twitching asshole. With the other, she gently stroked the slick skin between her pussy and her ass — the sensitive little bridge that made Lara shiver every time.
Lara moaned, cock still in her mouth, the sound vibrating through her throat. Her hips rocked, eager, aching for more.
The husband let out a shaky breath, watching the scene above him — Lara’s mouth moving with intent, Camille’s fingers teasing every inch of her ass.
Camille leaned in and kissed the small of Lara’s back, then began stroking both of her entrances at once — one finger circling her rim, another dipping just barely into her shining pink pussy lips. She didn’t push in, not yet. Just teased. Slow spirals. Gentle taps. Lara gasped, her body jolting with every touch.
“You love being opened like this, don’t you?” Camille whispered.
Lara nodded, unable to speak. Her mouth was full, but her hips did the talking — shifting back, guiding Camille’s fingers closer, her thighs spreading just a bit more.
Camille obliged. One finger slid inside her pussy, knuckle-deep, while her thumb continued circling her rear. Then, switching hands, Camille gently traced her asshole with the tip of a finger, teasing the edge.
Lara made a low, throaty sound around her husband’s cock. Her body shivered. She adjusted again — not pulling away, but arching back into Camille’s hands, silently begging for more.
“Do you like this, Lara?” Camille asked, her voice husky now. “My fingers right here? And here?”
Lara moaned her answer.
Camille leaned in closer, her chest brushing Lara’s back, her breath warm against her neck. She whispered, “Let me hear it.”
Lara pulled her mouth off just long enough to gasp, “Yes.. oh god, yes.. “
Camille slipped her finger gently into Lara’s rear, making her flinch and shudder with pleasure.
But Camille wasn’t done. She stayed close, lips against Lara’s ear, and said more firmly, “Say it properly. Say–You want me to fuck you with my fingers, while he fucks your face.”
Lara hesitated, breath catching.
“Say it,” Camille whispered again, pushing just a little deeper.
Lara whimpered, her voice ragged and desperate. “I want you to fuck me with your fingers.. while he fucks my face.. “
Camille smiled against her neck, then bit down gently. “Good girl.”
Camille slipped her finger gently into Lara’s rear.
The reaction was instant — a sharp inhale, her hips jerking, her walls clenching around Camille’s other hand. She moaned again, louder this time, and dove back down onto her husband’s cock, now twitching and slick in her mouth.
“That’s it,” Camille cooed. “Take him deep.. while I open you up.”
She added a second finger inside Lara’s pussy, curling them slowly, luxuriously. Her finger in Lara’s rear eased deeper, then stilled, letting Lara adjust.
Lara was a mess — shivering, dripping, her mouth wet and hungry, her whole body trembling as the stretch took hold.
Her husband reached up and gently cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers, adding fuel to the fire. Lara cried out, lifting her head just long enough to moan, “Fuck.. I can’t.. I need..”
Camille didn’t stop. She thrust softly, rhythmically — a delicious double rhythm — fingers front and back. “You need what, beautiful?”
“More.. ” Lara whimpered. “Fingers.. tongue.. I want everything.. “
Camille grinned, bending closer, licking a line from the base of Lara’s spine up to her shoulder. “Then keep sucking. And I’ll keep stretching you.”
___
Camille didn’t wait. She let Lara melt for a minute — twitching, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed and damp — before she slipped off the bed and returned with the toy.
Clear. Long. Slightly curved. Beautiful in a shameless, glistening way.
The sight of it made Lara groan.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Camille said, holding it up to the light. “It’s for you. All of you.”
Lara was still straddling her husband’s face, but her hips had shifted, her rear now tipped slightly higher, her pussy dripping down his chest. Her husband was resting, half-dazed, his lips still slick from her.
Camille climbed back onto the bed.
“Let’s show him something even better,” she whispered.
She pressed a pillow beneath Lara’s belly, raising her rear even higher. Camille spread her cheeks gently, kissed each one, and then leaned forward, licking slowly up the cleft–just once. Lara moaned deeply.
Then Camille spat softly, letting it trickle between her cheeks, and brought the toy to Lara’s twitching asshole.
“Oh god.. ” Lara whimpered. “Camille.. “
“Yes, darling?”
“Please.. use it.. show him everything.. “
She reached back and pulled herself wide open. Her rear glistened, flexing, hungry.
But Camille held still. Just brushing the tip at the rim.
“Say it properly,” she murmured, circling with slow, slick pressure. “Tell me you want me to fuck your ass with this toy while he watches you being stretched.”