River cruising

We drifted down the Danube until the city lights slipped behind us, then moored close enough to hear the water slap the hull. Eliska Cross stood barefoot on the deck, her pale hair catching the sunset. She watched David Perry with the same lazy hunger I felt. I’d wanted that man for years—thick cock, steady hands—and the moment we were alone the three of us slipped into a stateroom that smelled of sun-warmed wood and sex. Eliska kissed me first, tongue slow, tasting like the wine we’d shared. David stepped behind me, palms hot on my hips. Clothes vanished quickly. He dropped to his knees, spread my cheeks, and without a word pressed the thick pad of his big toe against my tight hole. I pushed back, taking him deeper, the stretch raw and filthy. Eliska moaned at the sight, fingers already circling her own clit. I sank onto David’s cock while he kept working that toe in my arse, the double pressure making me shake. Eliska climbed over his face, blonde hair spilling across his chest as she ground down on his tongue. We moved together, every thrust pushing me harder onto both intrusions. Sweat slicked our skin. The river rocked the boat in lazy rhythm. When he finally pulled out, Eliska and I knelt shoulder to shoulder. He painted our faces—thick ropes across lips and lashes—until we were glazed and grinning. I licked a stripe from her cheek, tasting him, tasting us. The night was young, the boat still drifting, and we weren’t finished yet.