Kriss knelt between her legs, carefully parted them and drawing her over his thighs, easily slotted himself back inside her pussy. “I’m gliding this time,” he noted. “She’s like a droid, but... still responsive.” He closed his eyes and to Shayla’s pleasure, instead of pounding, he rocked his hips and massaged her insides with gentle nudges of his cock.
Jago occupied the space around her head and sought out her mouth. He kissed her again and slipped his tongue in her mouth, tasting her as he promised. She detected a sweetness on his salty lips. She sighed as he peppered kisses around her nose and eyes, using his lips to explore.
“What flavor is she?” Kriss asked.
Shayla giggled—was she a Popsicle?
“Why do you laugh?” Jago asked.
She opened her eyes and stared into his, two pinpoints of darkness in a halo of white. “I only come in one flavor.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “Yes, you guessed. The droids can be programmed with flavor bursts. They explode into your mouth when you kiss them. The chemicals released trigger a mild apex.”
The apex, the orgasms that came without an ejaculation, weren’t considered real climaxes by Hezarans. Only the Hunger delivered the ultimate climax for the men.
“Try kissing my nipples,” she suggested and closed her eyes again.
Jago grinned. He lowered his mouth onto a peachy pebble and toyed with it, using his tongue to tickle and caress.
Shayla moaned and lifted her hips into Kriss’s gentle thrust.
Kriss growled. “She’s teasing me. I felt a pinch.”
Jago played with one nipple with his mouth and the other breast with his fingers. The duet was exquisite. She clenched harder around Kriss, ensuring he was aware of every ripple of pleasure that came with Jago’s nips and sucks. The tandem of fucking and teasing continued until she knew that she was close to an orgasm.
“Please, may I orgasm?” she asked. “Come?”
Jago lifted his head.
Kriss shifted her hips away from his pelvis. She nearly pouted with disappointment. They’d taken her to the brink and left her teetering on the precipice.
Both men stood and side by side for a second, she had full view of their cocks. Two splendid erections with shafts as thick as her wrist at the base. They gleamed with pre-cum and her wetness. But that wasn’t what made her gape. Their veins were swollen and prominent, forming ribbons that sculpted the exterior of the shaft before disappearing under the swollen glans. These veins glowed purple, as if filled with luminous blood. She suspected they would be fluorescent in the dark. Both erect cocks rested against their lower bellies without support. She gulped—her training, the long hours of preparations, was essential for accommodating those dimensions. Without it, she dreaded to think what might have happened.
Some kind of protocol was being enacted. Jago swapped places with his nestor and Kriss took control of rolling her nipples with his tongue and fingers. She realized they shared everything, and until each had enjoyed the same experience, then she wouldn’t be permitted to end it. Her orgasm was the finale.
Abruptly, in the midst of rapid stream of thrusts, Jago juddered. For a second, Shayla thought he had come, which was impossible. Ejaculation wouldn’t be possible for a few days. It had to be an apex. He panted and thumped Kriss on his back.
“Your turn. She can come on your cock.”
“Are you sure?” Kriss’s eyes lit up.
“Take it. You were the one who took out the redoubt on Zhabia. If you hadn’t done that, we’d not be here fucking a real woman.”
It seemed that Kriss was owed and Jago was also a man of honor. Shayla liked Jago even more for giving up his status as the dominant brother. As for her status, she was beholden to both of them.
With Kriss between her legs, he resumed his fucking, maintaining his measured pace and depth. The two men watched her as she thrashed her head from side to side, battling to contain the orgasm. She had to make it a ten, anything less would be unworthy of the occasion. The best way to reach an explosive climax was to deny herself. Her delaying tactics meant Kriss and Jago doubled their efforts. Jago slid his hand down her belly and touched her clitoris.
“Fuck,” he muttered between sucking on her nipple. “It’s like a tiny cock.” He squeezed her clit and she arched her back, impaling her pussy deeper on Kriss’s cock.
“Come, Shayla,” Jago demanded, adding a strident tone to his voice.
She responded, unable to resist the stern command. She erupted, first around her clitoris and it was painful, almost unbearable how it throbbed. He rubbed it harder, intensifying the pulses, which in turn spiraled out into her belly and around her pussy. The contractions flexed repeatedly, trapping Kriss’s shaft mid-thrust. He howled and immediately achieved an apex. The pair of them crested on waves of spasms. Her scalp prickled, her nipples hardened and pinched, and in her belly, a fire was lit that bloomed across her chest and into her face.
The nestor twins lay next to her, one with his arm around her breasts, the other with his hand between her thighs. She opened her eyes; it was Jago who had slipped his finger inside her pussy, sensing the last throes of her orgasm.
“That was incredible to watch,” he said, propping his head up on his arm. “How often can you do that?”
She blushed, a little ashamed. According to Alfraya, Shayla was the champion of multi-orgasms, at least when stimulated with a vibrator. “A few times.”