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The morning sun peaking through the curtain is what tugs Mira from dreamed memories of soft skin and heat and into consciousness. The light prickles atop her closed lids as she sighs into wakefulness without a fuss. The nights rest had been replenishing even though they'd all gone to bed later than they should have. Her first coherent thought is how overwhelmingly warm she is. The second is how she is not going to be able to escape this bed.
Mira squints her eyes open, head tilting away from the beam of sun that has woken her and exhales as she flexes her limbs. Her stretch only yields partial results.
It is not often that she is in the middle of their cuddle combination. She runs too hot and she likes to stretch and she is often first to wake. Last night she’d been plopped into the middle and curled around before she could protest. A special occasion, Zoey had said. The most special of occasions, Rumi has added with a shy little grin.
Who was Mira to tell them no?
The thought brings a smile to her lips that is so soft she is glad it’s just between her and the dawn of daylight. She looks down to take stock of her body, already resigning herself to a truly expert level of extrication. With the way her girls like to cling, Mira is well versed by now.
Zoey is curled tight around her right arm, face pressed into Mira's bicep and both her palms limp but present around Mira’s forearm. Her right leg is tossed over Mira’s hips in the signature four position she loves to mold her legs into. It’s not the toughest strangle hold Zoey has ever wrapped her in but it doesn't make freeing herself any easier.
Rumi, however, is nestled way tighter than Zoey. It's thrilling how she seems to seek touch now that she knows she will not be rebuffed but welcomed with open arms. There is no small measure of pride that blossoms at the way Rumi asks for what she wants and even takes on rare and encouraged occasions. She trusts them now, implicitly and wholly, in the same way they trust her.
Mira loves them more than she will ever be able to put into words. It makes the need to get up all the more pressing.
Rumi's shoulders are tucked beneath Mira's arm, her face tucked into Mira's armpit and her deepened breathing peppering the naked skin of Mira's ribs. Rumi's left arm—iridescent patterns moving in a sluggish relaxed crawl—wraps around Mira's waist and her fingers hide in the dip of Zoey's hip.
She is limb locked and well guarded. The pile of gold hoarded and protected by two sleeping dragons. Mira cannot move without waking them. She cannot repay their kindness of the night prior or show them the depth of her love through nourishing their bodies.
She tries to wriggle free but her movement only springs the trap of her sleeping lovers. Zoey lets out a soft grumble, her palms curling around Mira's arm to pull her closer into Zoey's chest. Rumi's breath exhales sharply against her ribs in a sigh, her body snuggling in closer to keep the live pillow beneath her still.
Mira sighs in fond exasperation even though her heart feels full to bursting.
If they will not release her then she will have to take matters into her own hands.
Mira knows that Zoey is a lost cause considering she hates to wake up unless its with a mouth between her thighs or food right under her nose. She isn’t sure she could free her wrist from Zoey’s clutch even if she tried. She was deceptively strong and exceedingly difficult when she wanted to be.
That leaves her sweet and gentle Rumi as her victim. She feels a little pang of remorse as she flexes her hand to scratch her nails against Rumi’s spine. It fizzles away, however, at the low hum Rumi lets out in response. The patterns along her arms tinge gold for just a blink and miss glance.
Mira keeps her touch gentle—exploratory even—as she maps the notches of Rumi's spine and the line of muscle and bone beneath her skin. As much as she wants to stay in this moment, she needs to get up more. Her touch grows more pointed, a slow drive towards extracting herself from Rumi's grasp in the hopes of Zoey catching Rumi in her spider hold once Mira is free. Her plan doesn't go as smoothly as she wishes. Rumi grumbles as Mira tugs her closer but she is soothed by a lingering kiss on her forehead.
She almost calls the whole thing quits when she gets Rumi on top of her in preparence for a bait and switch because Rumi is warm and solid and she nestles into Mira's chest like she wants to burrow her way in through viscera and blood and bone. Mira would let her.
But the kitchen calls and Mira wants to do this so she coaxes Rumi off her again, into the heat seeking missile that is Zoey's body, and she cannot help but smile at the way Zoey reaches out immediately. Rumi's body goes willingly then, a soft noise rumbling up her throat dangerously close to a purr as she lands face first into the curve of Zoey's neck. Zoey's limbs wrap around her— leg and arm—until Rumi is snug as a bug in a rug.
Mira loves them so much she aches with it. It's like her heart is sore from growing so large to accommodate all that she feels for them. Each time she thinks she reaches its max her heart only transforms again.
The mornings are quiet in a way she needs. It allows her the time to decompress, to sit with all of the big feelings she tries so hard to keep tempered, and lets her process in a way that works for her. Zoey has never been good about early mornings and now that Rumi is no longer hiding the beautiful glimmer of her patterns she seems on a mission to reclaim the sleep that evaded her in all her worries. Mira knows she has time.
Her eyes catch on the first of what she is sure is the first of gifts to come. It's her birthday today but the pair of them had come home practically bursting at the seams yesterday with a small box and matching grins. They had to plead with her to open it early despite their proclamations that Mira was deserving of an early gift. It was more for them than it was for her so Mira—amused and in love—humored them.
Her fingers brush against their gift in present time, the carnivorous Venus fly trap twitching just a little beneath the pad of her finger in response. Beautiful and deadly, Zoey had said with a special glint in her eye. And it's pink, Rumi had added on just as proud. The heat that crawled to her cheeks in response to their reveal had been a little embarrassing but she survived.
She is not a flowers and candy kind of girl. They still manage to hit the mark anyway.
The spread she makes is just as much for them as it is for her. She makes their favorites by hand, pouring her love into each chop and each sizzle of the pan and each presentation of a plate, until the ache in her chest is a little more manageable. She loves them. They love her. Yet sometimes Mira is not sure what to do with it.
The night before hand been all about her in a way that is rare. Not because Rumi and Zoey don't want to but because Mira is not as well versed in receiving even a fraction of what she gives out. The quiet, repetitive task helps her process the overwhelm. Even if the overwhelm is not inherently bad—just different. It's hard to process that they love her just as much when the love she has for them feels unquantifiable. But it had been there all night, in Rumi's steady presence and whispered affections as she cradled Mira in her arms, in Zoey's gentle caresses as if her hands and mouth were just an extension of her heart. It was no different than all the ways Mira herself pulled them apart and stitched them back together again.
The crash comes abruptly, followed by a muffled curse and a snort of waking breath that has Mira pausing from where she is flicking off the stove. Her brow twists, her thoughts grinding to a halt, as the sound of stampeding feet echo in the halls. She is sure she stares at her girlfriends sudden presence like they've grown twelve heads.
"Stop," Zoey manages to rasp out, a fist curling tiredly into her eye. She is still naked save for the panties she'd slipped on at the last second but even that sits misaligned on her hips. "You shouldn't be—" Her words crack into a yawn and fizzle into nothing. Her hair is a wild mess haloed by the sun drifting in from the curtains.
Mira doesn't even bother trying to hide her glance at the rosy peaks of Zoey's nipples.
"Mira," Rumi's voice is still deep with sleep but she is a touch more put together. She has at least slipped into a pair of boxers but the shirt she has slipped on is backwards and too tight around the broad muscles of her shoulders. It also only comes half way down her belly to tease the subtle curve of her breasts. "You shouldn't be making us breakfast." There is a thin note of panic in her voice as she approaches.
It's the only reason Mira lets the spatula be swiped from her hands. Rumi sets it away from them and then cups Mira's hips to draw her away from the stove entirely.
"But I'm already done," Mira informs her wryly. She watches with no small amount of amusement as Rumi's nostrils flare like she is inhaling and then her head whips to their breakfast bar where their food sits still steaming. The emotions roll over her face quickly—elation, hunger, a sheepish kind of guilt, and then determination.
"We had a plan," Zoey pipes up with a slight whine. She drags herself further into the kitchen, her fingers ghosting over the bare skin of Rumi's ribs as she sidles up behind Mira. She is still sleep warm despite being naked as she wraps herself around Mira's back. "You're supposed to be sleeping," she grumbles with her cheek smooshed against the back of Mira's shoulder.
"Yeah," Rumi says, almost defiant. One of her hands leaves Mira's waist in favor of framing the side of Mira's face. Mira isn't even conscious of the way she leans into the supple skin of Rumi's palm. "It's your birthday," she says quietly, almost reverent. "You're supposed to be letting us take care of you." The earnestness to her voice is answered by the flush that prickles along Mira's cheeks. It compounds to a warm curl in her belly when Zoey nods vigorously against her back.
"You did already," Mira drawls, amused and in love and a touch disbelieving at how much they mean it.
Rumi rolls her eyes, a smirk quirking the corner of her lips in a small display of confidence she has been building towards for weeks. Her thumb swipes affectionately across the apple of Mira's cheek. "That was just the start, baby."
Zoey's laugh is a touch raspy as she agrees, "Yeah, we have a whole plan." Her arms tighten around Mira's waist even as the sneaky fingers of her right hand dare to play against the band of Mira's underwear. "I just forgot to set the alarm," she adds on sheepishly.
Rumi's exhale is fondly exasperated, her eyes drifting from Mira's to Zoey with blatant affection. She turns back to Mira after a moment, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to Mira's cheek not held in hand. "Let us take care of you please," she murmurs sweetly.
Who is Mira to deny them?
The morning consists of Rumi carrying her over to their couch and making sure Mira is nice and cozy in her lap while Zoey brings the spread of food to them. She smiles at Mira, big and toothy and teasing, and tells her the lack of shirt and bra is all apart of the experience. She is hand fed the food of her own making and even though Zoey and Rumi take turns feeding each other, Mira is strictly forbidden from moving a muscle.
At first it feels weird but as time stretches, Mira settles more comfortably into Rumi's lap and even outstretches her legs across Zoey's thighs. It's lovely and a little messy but its perfect.
Zoey is alert and awake once their breakfast is finished, her eyes glimmering in excitement to match the shimmer of sun dancing across the barbells through her nipples. Mira is distinctly pleased when Zoey climbs into her lap. Even when Rumi lets out a small grunt at being smooshed under both their weight. Mira doesn't need to look at her to know she's as happy as a clam anyway.
"We have two options for you next," Zoey tells her with palpable excitement. Her arms bracket Mira's shoulders, the fingers of her right hand cupping the back of Mira's skull so she can scratch affectionately at her scalp. It's a little distracting the way Zoey's hips poke out from the slim cut of her waist. Mira's hands move to cup before she can even process the want. One of Rumi's hands sneaks out from their tangle of body to sit high on Zoey's thigh, like she too wants to touch and can't hold the urge.
Zoey's next exhale of breath is a little shaky.
"We can either get ready for our outside activity," Zoey says lightly and while she doesn't seem to be put off by the idea of leaving their warm huddle of limb, a faint flush starts to creep up her neck as her body slides a little closer. There is a slight arch of her back, like she is seeking the warmth of their bodies even while they're fitted together. "Or we can—" her voice lowers pointedly, her eyes darting to Mira's lips. "—hang out here for a little."
Mira's lips curve into a bemused smirk. "Oh?" she intones quietly. Her palms slip from Zoey's hips in admiration to cupping her ass in a daring display of want. Rumi's breath quickens against her back. "Hang out and do what?" She is teasing, of course, because even as she asks Mira pulls Zoey forward.
Zoey needs little to no encouragement to rock her hips slowly into Mira's lap. The sigh that falls from her lips is contented and a little wanton but she follows instructions. One of her hands falls to Mira's shoulder for better balance and this time the roll of her hips is pointed. "You," she manages to answer airily, an impish smile at the corner of her lips.
Mira lets out a laugh, unsurprised but still pleased. The feeling only grows when Rumi shifts a little restlessly beneath Mira. The growing swell pressing into her ass is equally unsurprising. She slides forward and back again in a little tease of movement and Rumi's response is instantaneous. Her hands claw at Mira's hips and a low sound—almost a growl—vibrates against Mira's back.
Zoey rolls her hips again, her neck falling back with a small sigh. She is a marvel like this, soft and pliant and ready for whatever Mira wants. It's a gift she won't soon take for granted.
"Okay," Mira capitulates easily even if she tries to keep her voice even. "Let's hang out then."
Zoey meets her raised brow with a bright little smile and visibly darkened pupils. She curls a hand behind Mira's neck and crashes their mouths together. Despite having their fill the night before, Zoey is practically vibrating in her lap for another chance. She kisses to overwhelm Mira's senses. Her hand tugs at Mira's hair to guide her where she wants, her nails curl into Mira's shoulder, her hips still pressing forward like she is trying to ease the ache Mira is desperate to coax out.
Rumi lets out a low whined, "Fuck."
Zoey pulls back a fraction, a panted little laugh falling across Mira's face as she looks down at Rumi. "Like what you see, baby?" she teases them both with another roll of her hips and though Mira can't feel anything from the movement, a low hiss falls from her lips at the way Rumi is hard pressed beneath her.
"Uh huh," Rumi answers without shame. "You're both so pretty," she says with a faint sigh.
Zoey softens a fraction at the earnestness and Mira is already leaning sideways to give her space to lean forward. Her hand reaches for Rumi to pull her in for a filthy little kiss. It's all tongues squirming and muffled groans and Rumi humping against her instinctively. It's a sight to behold.
It also reminds Mira of how their attention had been on Mira last night and how much they probably want to reconnect too.
Mira makes to slip from between them, wants and needs and plans of action forming in her mind, but she doesn't get very far. Zoey and Rumi break away from their kissing in alarm, both reaching for her in tandem.
"No, where are you going?" Zoey whines faintly. She presses her hips closer to Mira, locking her in place with the heat between her legs tight to Mira's lower belly. Her hands clamp down on Mira's shoulders anew.
"Stay with us," Rumi rumbles out and as she says so both arms wrap tightly over Mira's ribs. She still pushes up against Mira's ass, a low sigh falling from her lips at the pressure it must give her.
Mira feels hot and sticky all over and still she manages a shaky laugh. If she is very honest she does not think she will survive round two of undivided attention. Preparing their breakfast had eased her overwhelm enough for it to bubble full once more at being hand fed and doted on and pampered like the princess she is decidedly not. The need for control rears its vicious head.
"I want to watch," Mira tells them, just shy of a command. They want to do this for her, she understands, but Mira wants them to do something else more. They are hers first and foremost.
It's evidenced in the way Zoey's spine straightens, the petulance fleeing from her posture, the way Rumi stiffens briefly and then doubles the strength of her hold, alert and waiting. They are so, so good to her. They are so, so good for her.
Mira lets one palm cup Rumi's forearm, nails scratching teasingly as she leans forward to kiss lightly to the apple of Zoey's cheek. The warmth beneath her lips is delicious.
"It's my birthday," Mira reminds them airily. It feels a little weird to say considering she hates birthdays in general. This one, however, is shaping up to be the best in her twenty four years of living and she is nothing if not a performer. "Don't I get what I want?"
"Yes," Zoey says immediately. "Yes, anything you want." That she goes down so quickly without a fight amuses Mira to no end. She kisses Zoey's cheek again, teeth nipping and eliciting a comical gasp from Zoey's lips. "Mira."
"So sweet to me," Mira murmurs playfully though the words are irrevocably true. "Let me up, baby," and then because she loves them enough to at least pretend they have the power here, she whispers, "Pretty please?"
It's Rumi who lets out the loudest groan because she is still new to to all the pitches of Mira's voice and all the filthy ways she can utter the sweetest things. Still, Zoey— as experienced she is by now—still shivers at her words. After all, there is nothing she loves more than being reduced to a puddle in Mira's palm.
Mira loves them so much she wishes she could crack her ribcage open and tuck them in beside her so there is not a moment where they are ever apart.
"Whatever you want," Rumi answers when Zoey can do little more than stare at Mira in unabashed awe. "We'll do whatever you want," she promises fervently.
Mira knows. She slips from between the two of them and though it pains her to be so far away she settles her back on the other arm of their couch. Something about the hot itch in her chest promises a lengthy fight for control. She might as well be comfortable as she directs.
Zoey hovers over Rumi on her knees, her hand bracing against the back of the couch but her eyes stay on Mira. She does not touch Rumi outside of her legs pressed to the inside of Rumi's thighs. Mira inwardly preens at her on her best behavior already.
Rumi is just as eager to please as she looks to Mira. Her back is pressed tightly to the cushion like she is trying to keep herself upright, her patterns wriggle in a slow growing frenzy—pretty whirls of golden and purple—and her hands are clawed in the cushion beneath her hands. Mira's perpendicular positioning gives her perfect view of the tent in Rumi's boxers, a small wet spot drooling against the fabric. The pride at such a reaction off of minimal touching is just as fulfilling as Zoey's stellar behavior.
Mira loves them. They are waiting for her.
"Kiss each other," Mira commands and no sooner are the words leaving her lips are the two of them jumping towards each other like they are starved.
If their last kiss was filthy then this one rewrites the definition of the word. They pant and grunt and groan in each other's mouths, little finesse and all carnal desire. She watches Rumi's tongue dart out to meet Zoey's, watches the way Zoey catches it and sucks until Rumi's hips twitch upward to nothing but open air. She watches Zoey's tongue snake into Rumi's mouth while she is distracted because she is a sneaky, sneaky girl who loves to get her way. She watches the way Rumi's hands flex but don't dare to reach out.
After all, Mira has not given them permission.
"Zoey," Mira calls out and Zoey grunts her acknowledgment but does not pull away from biting at Rumi's lips. "Touch her—" Zoey's hand zips straight down to palm roughly at the tent of Rumi's cock, desperation lining her movements. She lets is carry on for one heartbeat—two—three—until Rumi is humping against her hand in earnest. "—slowly," Mira amends.
Rumi lets out a disappointed whimper as Zoey's palm slows. She keeps full contact on the outside of Rumi's boxers but her hand crawls upwards and back down again with nothing more than a tease.
"Sorry, baby," Zoey murmurs against her lips but she doesn't sound it at all. She keeps her face close to Rumi—whose chest rises and falls quickly, her patterns whirling a frenzy and fully activated in color—but her head turns so she can stare Mira in the eye. The eye contact is hot, blazing with tension and heat, and its almost like it's Mira who is touching Rumi.
"Get her naked," Mira commands next but Zoey is already moving like she knows what Mira wants.
Rumi loses her shirt before she can even blink and register. The big audible gulp she swallows when Zoey strips her of her boxers has Mira letting out a genuine laugh. The fond curl of Zoey's lips is a brief break in the hot tension. She allows the amused kiss Zoey presses to the dip of Rumi's hip because they are cute and she loves them.
"What next, boss lady?" Zoey asks around a cheeky grin, still pressed against Rumi's hip but staring up at Mira with dark knowing eyes.
Mira's lips curl into smirk as she says, "Blow her."
Rumi lets out a strangled whimper. "You're going to kill me," but even as she utters the words she braces herself more fully against the couch.
Zoey lets out a small huff of laughter, an almost sinister curve of her spine as she lowers until her lips are just a hairs width away from the throbbing patterns of Rumi's cock. "But what a way to go, right?"
Rumi's answer is garbled up as Zoey's tongue licks a hot stripe from root to tip.
Zoey doesn't even give Rumi the chance to breath before she is quite literally swallowing Rumi's cock whole. A gag punches through the air and Rumi actually squeals but still Zoey continues.
"Zoey!"
Mira is wholly unsurprised by the speed in which Zoey sucks at Rumi's cock. It's almost like she is worried it will be taken away. Mira would never be so unkind when she's on her best behavior.
"Zoey," Mira chides on an exhale, partially amused. "Slowly," she instructs but it's not as sharp because she understands the want that courses through Zoey's veins. Her mouth is sensitive, she loves the way it feels, craves the way Rumi can't control how she reacts when it feels so unspeakably good for her too.
Mira understands.
Zoey whines in disappointment but she slows the vigorous bob of her head until its a gentle up and down motion.
Rumi's jaw hangs open as she breathes heavily.
"Doesn't she look so pretty, Rumi?" Mira prompts because even from her side vantage she can see the flutter of Zoey's lashes, the hallow of her cheeks as she makes up for the slow pace with harsh sucking. The ache between her own legs thrums in time with the pulse of Rumi's patterns.
"Yes," Rumi gasps immediately. "God, yes, so—ah—pretty," her hands flex into the couch cushions, her upper body practically trembling with the way she is trying to stay still, to stay good just because she wants to please Mira.
"You can touch her," Mira rewards her. "You know she likes it when you hold her." The moment the words leave her lips and filter through Rumi's foggy brain, Rumi's hands are slipping into the thickness of Zoey's hair. She curls her fingers tight, weaving through the strands and Zoey's eyes nearly roll back into her head at the sensation of tugging.
Her mouth moves a little quicker—quicker than the slow Mira commanded—but Mira allows the slight lapse because she is gracious. Because she loves them and they are so, so good even when they are naughty.
Mira feasts her eyes greedily on the way Zoey uses her mouth, the way Rumi's belly twitches uncontrollably, the way they stare into each other's eyes. She is on the outside looking in but she hardly feels left out. They know she likes the rawness of their emotions towards one another as much as she loves telling them what to do or feeling it herself.
Almost.
Mira's hand worms its way into her panties to temper the beating there. She keeps her touch light, just a tease, as she watches the performance in front of her.
Zoey continues to suck Rumi's cock in languid strokes. She gorges herself full, her nose brushing against the sparse purple hair below Rumi's belly button and holding. She is showing off at Rumi's expense.
Mira loves her.
She lets it continue until Rumi's thigh muscle clenches hard enough to leave her skin dented.
"Zoey, stop," Mira calls out swiftly and though Zoey takes one last bob and harsh slurp, she obeys with the tip of Rumi's cock resting against her parted lips. It's such a pretty picture. Zoey's face flushed, her lips swollen. Rumi's cock stiff and glistening, patterns pulsing a drummed echo of Rumi's heart beat. The mixture of drool and precum tethering them together in thin strands.
Rumi lets out a small broken cry at being made to wait and an almost sinister smile curls across Mira's lips.
"Hold her face," Mira instructs and the moment Rumi's palms are framing Zoey's cheeks, Zoey seems to register what will come next. She practically wriggles in excitement, her labored breathing audible now. "Just the tip, Rumi, let her suck."
Rumi's hand breaks away from Zoey's face abruptly, a strangled little sound falling from her lips as she reaches for the base of her cock and squeezes so tight her face screws up in concentration.
Zoey lets out a pitiful little moan, her tongue daring to flick out against her lips because she knows like Mira does how quick of a trigger Rumi has sometimes. It's still new to her. She is still sensitive to stimulation of any kind and as embarrassed as she is about it, Zoey and Mira are quick to reassure her.
What bigger stroke to their egos than Rumi's cock spurting out her enjoyment because she just can't hold it back?
"Sorry, sorry," Rumi rasps out thickly. "I just needed a second—that was—" Her shoulders shiver, the sensation rolling down her spine and pulsing her patterns, in a lovely display of just what Mira's words have done to her.
"You're doing so good, baby," Mira coos softly and there is a small break in performance when Rumi's eyes find hers—wide and beseeching and desperate to give Mira what she wants. Mira mimes taking a big breath and feels her heart pulse when Rumi mirrors it to steady herself.
Slowly but surely Rumi releases the vice like grip on her cock and returns her hand to cup Zoey's cheek. She looks back at Mira again, waiting for Mira's nod of approval before she moves a muscle. Mira expects her to turn back to Zoey, to watch the split of Zoey's lips as her cock seeks refuge once more, but Rumi does not turn away.
Rumi stares at Mira—desire and trust and a feral kind of intensity—as she presses her hips up and pulls Zoey down. The pleasure is visible on Rumi's face, a slight pop echoing as she backs away. She repeats the motion, obeying Mira as the tip of her cock breaches past Zoey's lips before withdrawing it once more.
Mira's breathing grows ragged right along with them.
Zoey does not bother to hide her unabashed moans. She does not bother to hide the way she is rubbing her thighs together for relief against the throbbing Mira knows is there. She sucks hard on every backward draw, enough to fill the room with the sound of her wet slurping when Rumi's cock leaves her.
Something about the slow pacing makes it all the more hot. It makes them all the more desperate.
"Mira," Rumi murmurs, her breath hitching as Zoey sucks. The next buck of her hips is a little harder, too far up, and it sends her slippery cock past Zoey's lips to rub against her face instead. The sounds Zoey lets out is debauched.
"She feels so good," she rubs her cock against Zoey's face for two more thrusts—allowed truly because Mira is a little speechless at how fucking hot it is—before she's pushing into Zoey's mouth again.
"I think she's going to cry soon," Rumi informs her, voice still breathy but heavy with arousal. "She wants it so bad." It's almost a croon and for a brief second Mira considers giving up the reigns to Rumi's more than capable hands. She is still new at it but like everything she does she finds her footing fast.
Zoey lets out a tiny little sob of agreement. "Please," she begs on the next outward draw of Rumi's hips. "Please, pleas—mphff—" her words are muffled as Rumi shoves the tip of her cock back into her mouth. Rumi sighs shakily at the vigorous suck Zoey meets her with.
Mira is not sure if Rumi does it on purpose but it breaks her resolve anyway.
"Okay enough," Mira barks out and Zoey does lose a few tears as she sits back on her heels but Rumi is grinning like she knows what Mira is going to demand next.
Mira swipes her tongue along her teeth, the pulsing heat between her legs warring with the indignation of losing the upper hand even if briefly. She puts off the need for revenge and instead curls her pointer finger at two sets of eager eyes.
Her silent command is followed without hesitancy. They strip her of her clothes with efficiency and they take the fact that Mira has not given them explicit instruction as permission to do whatever they want. Mira wants them to.
Zoey's mouth collides with hers in a messy, wet kiss and Mira wastes no time in licking into her mouth. The distinct edge of Rumi on her tongue has Mira groaning and kissing her harder.
Rumi's hands get straight to work with Mira's mouth occupied. She cups Mira's chest, fingers scissoring against the stiff peak of Mira's nipples like she just can't seem to help herself. A hot mouth clamps down and sucks and Mira arcs into the touch as a moan slips from her lips.
Zoey swallows it back up eagerly.
Still she lets them get their fill. It's a reward really, for following her instructions so closely. It isn't until they lay Mira flush on her back that their playtime is up. A bark of laughter travels up her throat at the idea that they think they have won so easily. She rises as quickly as they'd gotten her down.
Her hand twines in Rumi's hair first and she tugs until Rumi whimpers and the column of her throat strains. It's almost like scruffing a kitten.
Mira's other hand curls around Zoey's throat before she can even think of escape, applying enough pressure to have Zoey's eyes rolling back in her head and her tongue lulling out on instinct.
Just like that they are her good girls once more.
"Cute," Mira murmurs in delighted affection. "Are you still listening?"
"Yes!"
"Mhm!"
"Good," Mira purrs with relish. She tightens both grips of her hands until twinned whimpers are gracing her ears. "You're both so close," she murmurs, a sudden wave of softness finding her at the mess of her girls in front of her.
Rumi's patterns are still in a frenzy and Mira can see the thrum of her pulse with how taught her neck is stretched. She is flushed all the way down to her shoulders and her spit soaked cock is so hard it looks painful.
Zoey is much worse for wear. Her eyes are almost completely glazed over, pupils dilated and tears clinging to her lashes. Her precious little face is tinged pink from forehead to chin and Mira can see the shimmer between her legs stretching all the way to her knees.
"I love you," Mira tells them, fierce and firm and unshakable.
Zoey pushes further into her hand and Rumi lets out a small contented sigh.
Mira decides to put them all out of their misery.
She squeezes lightly at the sides of Zoey's neck to get her attention, "I want you to sit on my face," she says breezily. "And you're not going to get off until I tap your thigh."
Zoey nods quickly, both her palms cupping Mira's forearm. "Yes—god, yes—I want that too."
Mira presses a sweet kiss to her lips just because she loves her. It's because its her birthday that Zoey is being so good. It's a lovely shade of obedience even if Mira misses the brat in her.
Mira turns her attention to Rumi then and her smile is a little predatory as she remembers Rumi's brief bout of bravery. "I want you inside me," she says just as easily. She revels in the way Rumi swallows thickly. "And you're not going to come until I tell you to."
Rumi's lips sticks out briefly in a pout, indignation floating across her face as Zoey breaks into a small giggle. Mira jerks her head a little to help her clear away any funny ideas.
"Okay," Rumi agrees, still pouting. Her face flexes into something a little more vulnerable and Mira meets it with a softening of her hand. "Can I—" she mimes squeezing with her fist—sheepish and flushed red. "—if I need to?"
Mira loves her so much it aches. She drags Rumi into a kiss, soft and sweet, and murmurs, "Of course, baby." She wasn't a monster after all. At least not in this moment.
With orders in place, Mira lets them maneuver her back to laying flat.
Rumi parts her thighs and slides between them, her stiff length resting gently on the cleft between Mira's legs. "You're so wet," she breathes in absolute rapture.
Zoey's hand reaches across her belly like she is going to sneak a touch—a taste if Mira knows her well enough—but Rumi's hand is quicker. She snatches Zoey's wrist between her fingers and gnashes her teeth playfully.
"Mine," Rumi tells her but she brings Zoey's knuckles to her lips and kisses them gently before tossing her hand away.
"Greedy," Zoey sniffs petulantly. "After I blew you too?"
Rumi freezes, her eyes going a little round, a little beseeching—
Mira snaps her fingers to get their attention again. The power is exhilarating as she watches them quite literally lock in.
Zoey's leg swings over her head and Mira loses her breath at the absolute mess between them. There is no part of her that isn't slick with arousal. Mira's mouth waters like she has never consumed sustenance in her life.
"Zoey," Mira groans but she doesn't have to say any more.
Zoey is already bobbing her head as her fist finds its way into Mira's hair. "I know," she bemoans. "Put me out of my fucking misery already." The crooked grin on her face lets Mira know that she is toeing the line on purpose. Mira is sure it's because of the way she can't look away from the soft petaling at the apex of Zoey's thighs.
There is nothing stopping Mira from having her feast.
She wraps her arms under Zoey's thigh and yanks her down to meet her mouth.
"Oh fuck," Zoey squeaks and Mira hardly gets the full measure of her before Zoey's thighs start to quiver. "Oh baby I'm not gonna last." She sounds a little wrecked over it too. It's a good thing Mira doesn't plan on letting her up until she's begging for Mira to stop.
Mira mouths at her lazily, taking her fill until Zoey is twitching her hips into Mira's face. She takes mercy then and Zoey's first orgasm crashes over her with very little effort on Mira's part.
Zoey bows over her, hand impossibly tight in Mira's hair as she humps against Mira's mouth to ride out the dredges. The staccato of her moans is slightly muffled by the clamp of her thighs against Mira's ears. She floods just for Mira and Mira quickens her pace to swallow it all up.
Rumi snorts brazenly. "Already?"
Zoey lets out a breathless squeak. "Like you're—fuck, baby—" the surprise at Mira's renewed vigor stutters Zoey's words but Mira slows again to let her think. "—any better," she manages to fire back at Rumi. "You're not even in her yet."
The answering grumble has Mira grinning into the slick heat between Zoey's legs.
Rumi's cock nudges gently at her entrance then, her touch soft even though the root of her is unyielding. Mira tips her hips closer like permission.
She feels the way Rumi's fingers tighten along her inner thighs, the slow breach as Rumi slides into her with no resistance. Their hips meet in a tight lock and Mira doesn't bother to hide her moan at being so wonderfully full.
Zoey quakes at the vibration. She is winded as she says, "Feels good doesn't it? I got her nice and ready for you."
Rumi's cock withdraws from her barely an inch before shoving in again. It feels a whole lot like agreeance.
Mira pays Zoey back in kind. She is all precision and burning pleasure. It feels almost like she is a conduit, pushing Zoey further towards her peak and sucking Rumi in to her own demise. She loses track of time and space, is only mutely aware of the pleasure between her own legs and the way Rumi stops twice to squeeze herself away from the edge of orgasm.
Rumi never leaves her empty and Mira never leaves Zoey empty. Around and around and around like a daisy chain of linked synapses and firing neurons.
Zoey starts to beg somewhere between the third and fourth orgasm. Her cries pitch higher, her weight a little heavier and her thighs buckling on either side of Mira's head. "Please, please—I can't—"
Mira knows she can.
But it's Rumi's voice who answers.
"Yes you can," she murmurs softly, a little strained. Her hands leave Mira's thighs but she pushes her pelvis forward to keep them apart, stuffing Mira full. She assists in holding Zoey's weight and Mira knows this will be the last one.
"You're doing so good, Zo," Rumi's soft murmur continues affectionately. "You can do one more for her, can't you?"
Zoey stutters out a moan, pressing hard against Mira's face. "I can't—" She is sweaty and flushed, wet all over and on the edge of overstimulation but still her hand tightens in Mira's hair anew.
"You can," Rumi croons sweetly. "We're right here."
Mira slows her pace, drawing out this finale for Zoey in the way Zoey deserves. She would eat her way straight to Zoey's heart if she could. She settles for making Zoey spill into her mouth one final time instead.
This time when Zoey comes she is quiet—exhausted and at her limit—save for a low cry falling from her lips as her body goes well and truly limp. She comes down anchored by their arms—Mira's around her thighs and Rumi's locked around her middle. She is weightless and floating between them and it's only Rumi's arms holding her up completely that saves Mira from suffocation.
Mira taps Zoey fondly on the thigh because she cannot help herself. It's an official release of command though Mira knows it's just for show.
Zoey lets out a bleary laugh, choked and ragged and barely present. Her fingers tremble where they catch Mira's but she squeezes tightly.
Zoey loves her.
Mira can feel it.
Rumi slows Zoey's fall onto the free section of the couch near Mira's head but her range is limited considering she is still completely sheathed inside of Mira.
Zoey drops onto her side like a sack of bricks. Her thighs still twitch sporadically as she cups between her legs. "I can't feel her," she huffs around a delirious little laugh.
Rumi rubs soothingly along her shin as Zoey curls into a tiny ball. Her breathing almost immediately deepens and Mira feels the preening pride of success.
One down, one to go.
Mira strikes while she isn't paying attention. She curls a hand around the back of Rumi's neck and drags her down. Their lips meet in a sticky press and Rumi needs zero coaxing to snake her tongue out and lick the remnants of Zoey's slick from her cheeks. She scrapes her nails into the damp skin of Rumi's back, relishing in the feral groan that wrenches from Rumi's lips.
The pressure between her legs aches and she pushes her hips up into Rumi's to urge her back into motion. It's all Rumi needs before she is taking off like a shot.
She fucks into Mira with little finesse but Mira doesn't blame her. She lets Rumi take to her hearts content. She thinks neither of them will last very long at all.
Rumi's hand curls into the couch beside Mira's head, her breathing labored and her face scrunched in concentration. The effort to make this good for Mira, to hold on just a little longer is Mira's final undoing.
Rumi loves her. Mira can feel it.
Mira's fingers slip between them to circle roughly over her clit and its all it takes before she's falling apart. There is a roaring in her ears, a squeeze on her lungs, a prickle at the corner of her vision that holds her suspended as she crests. She exhales a moan on the come down, her nails digging into the flesh of Rumi's ribs hard enough to rend.
Rumi stares down at her in awe.
"So pretty," Rumi murmurs, her pace picking back up in a feral kind of frenzy. "So pretty and so mine," there is the faintest edge of a growl and Mira's lips curl into a pleased smile.
She wraps both arms around Rumi's back to hold her close. "Yours," she responds easily. After all she is not a liar.
"Mira," Rumi gasps, a wanton edge to her tone as her claws rip a hole into the cushion beside Mira's head. "Please—I've been good—I've been good—" It's almost mindless babble, her patterns brightening like a supernova as she reaches her long awaited climax.
Mira loves her. Feral, frenzied and desperate.
Mira's lips find the shell of Rumi's ear, her arm tightens around Rumi's shoulders as she whispers, "Come inside me, Rumi."
The shiver that quakes up Rumi's spine almost breaks her in half. She hunches over Mira, the pace of her hips breaking and twitching as whimpers. "Fuck, fuck—Mira—" sticky warmth bursts inside her as Rumi's pelvis presses tight enough between her legs to bruise. She rocks against Mira without removing even a centimeter of her length while she pumps Mira full.
Rumi pants against her neck like a dog, her body still quivering even as she empties all she has to give. The nuzzling that comes next is arguably Mira's favorite part of sex with Rumi. Her nose drags along the sweaty sheen of Mira's neck, a low rumble vibrating in her chest and Mira aids it into a full blown purr under the gentle scratch of her nails.
Mira grins triumphantly as Rumi collapses against her in a boneless heap. It takes seven cards of Mira's fingers through her hair before she is asleep right along with Zoey.
There will be an unholy mess of their poor couch when they wake and she is not sure how they will manage any other activities but it's a problem for later.
Mira falls asleep much the same way she woke up—the sun splashing across her face, warm from the inside out, and so full of love she is fit to burst.
All in all, it's the best birthday of Mira's life and it's not even over yet.