traição na piscina
traição na piscina
The sun was a brutal, white-hot coin in the sky, baking the tiles around the pool. The air shimmered with heat. “Amor, vamos aproveitar a piscina, esse calor tá insuportável,” I said, fanning myself with a magazine. Alonzo looked up from his phone, a grin spreading. “Ótima ideia. Pega uma cerveja gelada também.” I picked up my phone. “Vou chamar a Lais pra vir curtir também.” “Perfeito,” he said, already pulling his shirt off. “Mais gente, mais divertido.” I dialed. “Prima, tá fazendo o quê? Nós vamos pro fundão da piscina aqui. Vem pra cá, chama o Pit.” Lais’s voice was cheerful. “Tô de bobeira aqui na casa do Pit mesmo! Vou só botar o biquíni e a gente já vai.” Alonzo slid into the water with a sigh of relief. I went to our room, staring at the drawer of swimwear. Nenhum biquíni me agradava. My belly, soft and round, seemed to spill over every bottom. Then I remembered the old one-piece. I pulled it on, the black fabric straining. Deus, tá apertadíssimo. Every movement made the spandex dig in. I shifted, and the top edge slid down, the full, heavy curve of one breast threatening to escape. I tucked it back. I turned, and the leg cut rode up, the fabric slipping into the cleft of my pussy, one plump outer lip peeking out. Melhor ficar ajeitando do que me sentir desconfortável no biquíni. When I walked to the pool’s edge, Alonzo’s eyes went wide. “Amor, por que não troca esse maiô? Tá muito apertado. Tá… indecente.” I gave a dismissive wave, feeling the heat on my cheeks that wasn’t from the sun. “Relaxa, amor. É só pessoal de casa. Nada demais.” He shrugged, and I lowered myself into the cool water, the tight fabric constricting in a strangely pleasant way. Lais and Pit arrived soon after, their laughter cutting through the lazy afternoon. We talked, drank, the ice in our glasses clinking. Out of nowhere, Pit, ever the instigator, grinned. “Que tal uma brincadeira? Luta de cavalinho.” I blinked. “Como assim?” “A Lais sobe no meu ombro, você no do Alonzo. Ganha quem derrubar a outra.” Alonzo, competitive as always, slammed his beer down. “Vamos! Vocês não ganham da gente nem fudendo!” The first round was a blur. I was unseated almost immediately, splashing into the water. Alonzo groaned. “Fica mais firme, amor! Vamos derrubar ela!” I climbed back onto his broad shoulders, my thick thighs gripping his neck. The second bout lasted longer. But as we swayed and struggled, a new sensation took root. With every shift of my weight, the soaked, tight nylon of my one-piece ground my pussy against the back of Alonzo’s head and neck. A slow, insistent heat began to build between my legs. Que coisa, hahaha… tá me dando tesão. Lais toppled me again. “Poxa, amor, tá de moleza!” Alonzo complained. “Você que não segura direito!” I shot back. Pit laughed. “Eles levam vantagem porque eu sou mais alto, facilita pra Lais.” Alonzo’s eyes narrowed. “Quer trocar, então? Pra ver qual de nós é a peça fraca?” My heart did a little flip. Trocar? Before I could protest, I was hoisted onto Pit’s shoulders. He was taller, more solid. The battle was even, a tense stalemate. But the pressure was different. More direct. The firm muscle of his shoulder pressed firmly against my mound with every lurch. The heat turned into a throbbing pulse. Ai, que tesão. My mind began to betray me. I imagined it wasn’t his shoulder, but the thick press of his cock, still hidden in his white trunks, rubbing me through the fabric. My pussy grew damp, my inner lips swelling, becoming slick. I clenched, hoping he wouldn’t feel the subtle seep of my arousal through the nylon. Tomara que ele não perceba. Driven by a reckless curiosity, I glanced down. The evidence was unmistakable. His white sunga was tented, outlining a thick, heavy shaft that curved upward. It was enorme. Nossa. Ele tá excitado. Comigo. A shiver, equal parts shock and thrill, went through me. Distracted, I lost my balance, and Lais shoved me off. “A molenga é você!” Alonzo crowed. Then Lais’s phone rang. Her face fell. “Me ligaram do trabalho… plantão de emergência. Tenho que ir agora.” The mood deflated. Pit offered to walk her. Lais insisted he stay. Then she turned to Alonzo. “Você quebra um galho? Pode me levar? É mais rápido.” “Claro,” Alonzo said, heaving himself out of the pool. “Luara, vou levar ela. Não demoro.” “Vai devagar, amor! A estrada é perigosa!” He waved, and they were gone. Silence, heavy and awkward, settled between me and Pit. I moved to get out. “Vou ao banheiro. Quer beber alguma coisa?” He smirked. “Só se for algo com álcool.” “Tenho vodka.” I turned, feeling his eyes on my backside, the black material stretched taut over my ample cheeks. His voice came, low and teasing. “Tá comendo carne de pavão, Luara?” I frowned over my shoulder. “Porque?” “Tá com maior rabão.” He laughed. “Larga de ser bobo,” I muttered, my face flushing. When I returned with the drinks, I hadn’t noticed my suit had ridden up again, wedging into my labia. I sat on the pool’s edge, legs dangling. He took the glass, and in one swift motion, his other hand smacked my covered pussy with a wet slap. “E essa pata de camelo aí?” I jerked back, scandalized. “Você tá doido? Eu sou casada!” “Mas eu sei que ele só te come de vez em quando,” he said, his voice dropping. “Sua prima me falou.” The truth of it stung, leaving me vulnerable. “Olha a sua idade e a minha. Tenho idade pra ser sua mãe, garoto.” A dark, playful gleam lit his eyes. “Então deixa o filhinho mamar nesse peitão, mamãe.” “Cara, você não tem jeito…” The protest died in my throat as he grabbed my ankles and pulled. I splashed into the water, and he was on me, one hand cupping my mound over the nylon, his fingers pressing against my swollen lips. I pushed at his wrist, but the resistance was weak, fueled more by propriety than true desire. “Para, Pit…” He ignored me, his other hand hooking under the strap of my top. With a firm yank, the strained fabric gave way, and one heavy, pendulous breast spilled free into the warm water and air. My nipple, a large, dark brown button, hardened instantly in the breeze. Before I could cover myself, his mouth was on it, hot and wet, his tongue swirling around the areola before sucking the stiff peak deep. Ahhh… A wave of pure, weakening pleasure crashed through me. My knees went soft. Não deveria… mas é mais forte que eu. My head fell back, eyes closing. “Para… meu marido chega a qualquer momento…” He switched to the other breast, pulling it free with his fingers, his mouth latching on with greedy hunger. He suckled hard, one hand still kneading my soaked pussy through the suit. “Primeiramente, agora não sou seu primo. Sou seu filhinho, mamãe,” he whispered against my wet skin. “E em segundo lugar, temos pelo menos duas horas. Relaxa e deixa seu filhinho mamar.” The taboo words, the illicit thrill, shattered my last pretense. I tangled my fingers in his wet hair, guiding his head. “Então mama os peitões da mãe, filhinho safado… Mama o outro agora.” He obeyed, sucking and nipping, sending jolts of electric pleasure straight to my core. I was lost in the sensation, the heat of his mouth, the rough scrape of his teeth, the way my large, soft breasts yielded to his worship. A shadow fell across the pool. We froze. Alonzo stood at the edge, his face unreadable. “Muito bonito. É só eu sair…” I scrambled, trying to shove my breasts back into the ruined top. “É um mal-entendido, amor! Ele só tava me ajudando a ajustar o maiô!” Pit just stared, mouth agape. Alonzo’s jaw worked. “Não sei o que eu faço com vocês. Se dou uma surra em você, Pit… se dou uma surra em você, Luara… ou se dou uma surra nos dois.” My eyes dropped. A prominent bulge strained against his shorts. A reckless, desperate hope flared. I forced a shaky smile. “Ué, amor… não tô te entendendo. Pra dar uma surra tem que tá de pau duro assim? Ou… você tá pensando em me dar outro tipo de surra?” A long, tense silence hung in the air. Then, a slow, dark smile spread across Alonzo’s face. “Você não perde um detalhe, né? Não vou dar surra em ninguém. Nem da outra forma.” He dragged a poolside lounge chair closer with a screech. “Mas vou pegar uma cadeira, sentar, e ver o Pit te dar essa surra por mim.” My breath hitched. Deu certo. The voyeuristic hunger in his eyes ignited my own. He sat, spreading his legs. “Vamos, gente. Sem timidez. Continuem de onde pararam. Bota pra fora essas tetas de novo pra ele continuar mamando.” With trembling hands, I freed my breasts. Pit needed no further encouragement. He dove back in, his mouth hungry and wet. Watching Alonzo watch us was an aphrodisiac like no other. Alonzo unzipped his shorts, freeing his own thick erection, his hand beginning a slow stroke. “Saiam da piscina. Agora,” he ordered, his voice husky. We climbed out, dripping. “Tira a sunga,” Alonzo commanded Pit. Pit peeled off the white fabric. I gasped. Meu Deus. It was as impressive as the outline promised. Long, incredibly thick, with a pronounced upward curve. The shaft was veiny and heavy, leading to a broad, plum-colored head that glistened already. It looked impossibly substantial. “Vai aguentar essa rola toda?” Alonzo asked me, a taunt in his voice. I swallowed. “Acho… acho que sim.” Pit, ever the fool, grinned. “Se entrar a cabeça, entra tudo. Porque meu pau não tem ombro.” Alonzo stood, walked over to me, and in one swift motion, peeled the torn, sopping one-piece from my body. I stood naked before them both, my full body on display—the heavy, sagging breasts with their large, dark areolas and prominent nipples, the soft curve of my belly, the thatch of dark hair between my wide-set thighs. He returned to his chair. “Inclina. Mãos nos braços da cadeira.” I bent over, gripping the chair arms near his hips, presenting my round, pale ass and my dripping pussy to Pit. The position was profoundly submissive, and I felt exposed and wanton. “Vai lá, garotão. Bota essa rola na buceta dela.” Pit fumbled with a condom. He spat on the tip of his cock, then into his palm, smearing the saliva over my folds. He gripped my ass cheeks, spreading them, and positioned the broad, spongy head at my entrance. He pushed. A sharp, stretching burn made me cry out. It wouldn’t go. He was too thick. He pushed harder, using his hand to guide his shaft. “Nngh! Ai, dói!” Alonzo leaned forward, fascinated, his hand moving faster on his own cock. “Assim não vai dar certo. Essa camisinha já tá ressecando tudo. Tira essa porra e bota no pelo.” My eyes went wide. “Tem certeza, amor?” He just nodded, his gaze fixed on where Pit and I were joined. Pit hesitated. “Mas eu nunca meti sem…” “Parabéns,” Alonzo cut him off. “Vai ser a primeira vez. Vai sentir o gosto de uma buceta de verdade.” He reached to the side table, grabbed a small tub of butter, and scooped a generous amount. With cold, deliberate strokes, he smeared it all over my pussy lips and opening. “Agora vai.” I took more butter and slicked Pit’s massive shaft until it shone. He pressed again. The butter and my own copious wetness helped, but the stretch was immense, a burning, tearing fullness. I screamed, a raw sound of pain and overwhelming sensation. “Força! Tá quase!” Alonzo urged, mesmerized. With a final, brutal shove, the widest part of the head popped past my tight ring of muscle. I looked back at Alonzo, tears in my eyes. “Foi… entrou. Só a cabecinha…” Pit didn’t stop. He kept pushing, sinking the incredible girth deeper, deeper, until his hips met my buttocks. A wild, full-body shudder wracked me. “Aaaaiii! Tudo! Entrou tudo, amor!” I panted, my voice a broken moan. “Tá gostando, amor? Tá gostando da sua puta com tesão em outro?” Pit began to move, short, deep strokes that shook my entire body. My breasts swung heavily, their undersides slapping against my ribs, the nipples brushing the chair arms near Alonzo’s face. The squelching sounds of my soaked, stretched pussy were obscenely loud. “Fode a puta do corno, fode! Esse caralho tá me arrombando! Goza, amor, goza! Goza com ele me comendo, vai!” Alonzo’s breath hitched. A guttural roar tore from his throat as his hips jerked upwards. Thick, hot ropes of cum shot from his pulsing cock, splattering across my lower back, my ass cheeks, and with unerring aim, painting my hanging breasts. Streaks of white landed on the dark areolas and dripped down the soft, heavy curves. The sensation of his warm release on my skin, mixed with the brutal, deep pounding from Pit, pushed me to a ragged, screaming climax. My pussy clenched and fluttered violently around the monstrous intrusion, milking it. Alonzo sighed, a long, satisfied sound. He stood up, tucked his softening cock away, and without a word, walked towards the house. Pit kept fucking me.
RedQuill