Chapter Text
You’ve heard enough about Madeline Ashton to know this is a horrible idea. But money’s tight, LA rent is insane, and she’s loaded, so you apply for the open assistant position anyway.
During the initial interview, Ms. Ashton briefs you on the goings on of her life since her decline in Hollywood. Her husband fired her assistant and ran off to Hawaii, her best friend Helen Sharp had returned to her life and ended up being more than a best friend, they got married, and now they’re building up their careers again, so now they need a shared assistant.
Lot’s to keep up with. That’s fine, though. It’s just an assistant job. Answer calls, take messages, set up meetings, plan out events, all the fun stuff that no one wants to do so they hire other people to do it for them.
Ms. Ashton flips through your résumé while explaining all of this, occasionally asking you questions about past jobs, scheduling experience, and how well you handle demanding personalities. You do your best to answer professionally, though it’s a little difficult when Madeline Ashton herself is sitting across from you looking effortlessly beautiful and mildly amused by how nervous you seem.
You’ve got a padded CV, pleading eyes, and a generally professional attitude, so it’s really no surprise Madeline is drawn to you out of the other applicants. The looks certainly help, Madeline thinks. She’s not afraid to admit you’re attractive. It’d be fun to have a cute little assistant running around, frantic, trying to please her. Oh! Maybe she could implement a uniform!
So, with a small amount of lust on the brain, you are hired as Madeline and Helen Ashton-Sharp’s shared assistant.
Awesome.
“(Y/N)!” Madeline screechs from the living room.
You take a calming breath and make your way to the balcony by the main stairwell.
Madeline– she insisted you call her that, rather than Ms. Ashton for fear of seeming old– is standing by the couch, rifling through several packages. She’s throwing packing peanuts and bubble wrap around, digging into box after box and unloading its contents.
Making your way down the stairwell, you call down to her “Yes, Madeline?”
“My stylist sent me a bunch of dresses for that premier in a month, help me pick one out! Here.” She hands you a stack of boxes. “Take those to my room, you’re gonna be my audience for tonight's fashion show!”
Madeline squeals and grabs up the rest of the boxes, already happily climbing the stairs.
You smile and follow her to her room, setting the boxes on her bed as she sorts through one of them.
For a while, it’s just you two. With Helen off in New York for a couple more days, Madeline is able to hold a conversation with someone other than the redhead for more than five minutes.
You take a seat on the large trunk at the end of her king-sized bed while she stands in the middle, flitting around the boxes.
She doesn’t try on anything just yet, sorting the dresses by best to worst looking, finding the perfect heels for each one, talking through makeup looks. She’s in her element, and it’s incredibly attractive.
For the most part, you let her do her thing, trying to ignore the red dusting on your cheeks as she flits about. Every once in a while, you offer a humble opinion and, when you do, she smiles this dazzling, hypnotizing smile that makes you feel stupid and sheepish.
“Okay!” She claps her hands suddenly and turns to you with that same smile. “Now, for the actual show.”
And she wiggles her eyebrows.
And she’s– She’s taking of her clothes–
“Madeline, what–” you reach your hand out, like that’ll stop her, like that’ll save you.
Of course, Madeline often haunts her LA mansion in nothing but a flowing robe over lingerie, but when you’re scheduled to come in, at least it's not sheer and the robe is so big and flowy it’s almost like she’s not wearing lingerie at all. You’ve not really seen more than a long, pale leg after a particularly flowy twist. This feels like a boundary you should not cross– especially because the thought of crossing that boundary starts to send heat pooling to your stomach and chest.
She smirks at you as she continues to untie said robe.
“What? Nervy?” She says, a teasing lilt in her eyes.
“No.” You look away from her as the robe slides down. “This just hardly seems appropriate, Madeline.”
“You’re gonna need to zip me up. And there’s a million dresses, it’ll be quicker than hauling my beautiful ass from here to the closet every thirty seconds.”
There’s really never any fighting Madeline Ashton. That’s something you learned by day one.
Your shoulders slump and you motion your hand out for her to continue and Madeline immediately squeals again, slipping off her robe.
Underneath is a pink (obviously) body suit. The lace hugs her shape and lifts her chest. Thankfully, it’s not a thong, but the lingerie still stretches across the expanse of her ass way too nicely. And, when Madeline turns to face you again, you finally notice the bedazzled crotch. It’s so Madeline that you almost roll your eyes, despite the dusting across your cheeks.
Just as she’s stepping into a deep blue, silver-accented ball gown, a voice sounds from the open door of the bedroom.
“I leave for a few days and you’re already cozying up with our assistant?” The teasing, sarcastic lilt is immediately recognizable, before you even have to turn to see Helen leaning against the frame, arms crossed and one brow raised.
She’s still in her day clothes, makeup still on, hair still done up, sporting a tight, lacey black cami underneath an expensive looking leather jacket. She looks amazing and it catches you off guard a little.
You stand from your seat on the trunk like you weren’t allowed to do that as Madeline jumps. When she turns to see Helen, she gasps like she’s seen an angel.
“Helly!” Madeline cheers, abandoning the dress she was half in to run to Helen. Helen immediately drops the sarcasm, her arms opening automatically for the blonde to jump into them. Madeline peppers a million kisses along her jaw, over her cheek, her nose, her brows, her forehead. “You’re home early! I missed you!!”
“I missed you too, Maddie,” Helen says sweetly, wrapping her arms around Madeline. “The last stop got cancelled ‘cause our vendors fucked up– it’s a whole a story, but I’m here now.”
You watch the way they melt into each other so easily it seems instinctual. For a second, the moment is so sweet, so intimate, you almost feel you should leave the room– except the two of them are PDA-ing in the doorway, blocking your exit.
However, within another minute of hanging off each other, Madeline smiles eagerly and whispers something in Helen’s ears. Helen locks eyes with you as Madeline continues, a slow (kind of intimidating) smile creeping onto her face.
“So.” They finally break apart– still holding onto one another, lest they stop touching each other for more than a second– and Helen looks between you and Madeline. “Madeline says you two were having fun before I got here?”
You freeze, shoulders shooting up to your ears. “Uh! Madeline got– she wanted to try on– yeah, uh–”
Madeline giggled and picked up the slack. “My stylist sent me some dresses, we’re going through them to see what’s worthy to be worn by Madeline Ashton-Sharp!”
Helen smiles, endeared, “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
“You wanna watch too, Helly?” Madeline grins.
Helen steps toward you as she speaks. “Of course, I do–” she brings a hand up to your chest when she reaches you and starts softly pushing you back until your legs hit the trunk, then some more until you’re sitting down again. Helen plops down beside you, leaning in until you feel her hot breath against your ear as she places a hand on your thigh. “–Madeline loves putting on a show.”
Your brain short circuits at the electric feeling of her cool hand on your thigh as you shiver at the subtle, darker undertones of her voice, but you try not to read too into it, nodding along– because it's true, Madeline does love to put on a show, much to your chagrin usually.
Madeline slips on the dress she was going to try on before Helen came home. She puts more effort into the way her hips move, how she bends over to pull the dress up her thighs, daintily adjusting it over her chest. Once it’s on, she prances over and turns around in front of you. You automatically stand and zip up the dress, face and chest bright red when your fingertips graze her pale freckled skin.
When the dress is situated, you sit back down. And Helen’s hand is right back on your thigh, tingling and distracting.
As Madeline rambles about the fabric, the cut, the seams, the sequins, whatever Madeline feels like rambling about, really, Helen leans into your ear again, eyes still on Madeline as she gives a gentle squeeze to your thigh.
“She looks ethereal, doesn’t she?” Helen sighs. You gulp and turn to look at her. Her emerald eyes are dark with want, pupils wide, her jaw set like she’s trying to control herself. Liquid heat floods your system, flowing through your veins and pooling into your stomach.
You nod, words refusing to unlodge from your throat.
It goes like this for a few dresses. Madeline slips into tight, perfectly fitting dress after dress, making you zip her up every time, Helen’s hand possessively on your thigh whenever you sit back down. Helen peppers Madeline with compliment after compliment, enjoying the way Madeline preens under the praise, grinning wide and unbidden.
It all feels very intimate for an assistant.
Then, as you unzip the latest dress, and Madeline steps out of it, Helen speaks up again, allowing her manicured fingers to slide further up your too-hot thigh.
“What do you think about a different kind of show, Maddie?” she asks, voice high and too-innocent. A slow cheshire grin spreads across Madeline’s lips as she glances between you and Helen. You feel like cornered prey all of sudden, heart racing.
“Mmmh…” Madeline brings a finger to her lips, tapping like she’s giving it real thought, “Can (Y/N) stay?”
Helen smiles, eyes glinting, “Of course, baby. (Y/N)? What do you say?”
She looks back at you expectantly, hand climbing impossibly higher. Your eyes lock and it's really hard to read anything else into this situation other than the vivid images your brain is supplying.
You're frozen. There’s no way she’s suggesting what it really seems like she’s suggesting. You gulp, stuck in your mind. They’re technically your bosses– don’t think about that actually, that’s really hot. Okay, they’re twice your age– nope, that’s also hot and not helping. They’re celebrities, well-known, popular, this could absolutely ruin you if things go badly– don’t think of the word ruin, actually, that’s hot too.
While your brain shoots down every logical reason not to do this, Helen’s hand slides back down, until it's resting lightly on your knee. She gives it a gentle squeeze, much softer and more comforting than her previous touches. It jolts you from your brain until you meet her eyes– impossibly green and completely different from how they were moments ago. There's softness where there was a hungry darkness. She smiles encouragingly, an air of seriousness surrounding her.
“We’re asking what you think we’re asking. You can say no. It’s no pressure. We’ll forget it and, if this makes you too uncomfortable, we’ll give you a giant severance package and several strongly, nicely worded recommendation letters. Yes or no, it’s okay. Just say the words.”
Her soft voice calms you. Across from you, Madeline is still standing, but she’s got the same look– soft and waiting. It smooths over your nerves enough that your shoulders relax somewhat.
“Yes,” you breathe before you can overthink it.
Madeline smiles wide and Helen leans into you, breath whispering across your ear for the millionth time tonight. “Just say the words and we stop.”
You nod, about to vocally confirm before Helen nibbles at your earlobe suddenly. You jolt, humming a surprised almost-moaning noise.
Helen chuckles and moves to stand up, grabbing your wrists and pulling you up with her. She guides you to the bed, until you’re both sitting at the edge, Helen behind you, bracketing your legs with her own. Madeline moves to stand in front of you, still only in her pink body suit.
“Go on, Maddie, give us a show,” Helen says, voice high and almost patronizing.
Madeline moves at the same time Helen does.
Helen’s hands settle on you immediately, one hand returning to your thigh, the other wrapping loosely around your stomach as her chin rests on your shoulder, her breath slow and even against your neck. It makes your breath shudder.
In front of you, Madeline smiles. It’s the kind of smile that says she knows exactly what she’s doing.
She takes a step back, giving herself a little space in the soft glow of the bedroom lights. The sequins of the pink body suit catches the light when she shifts her weight to one hip, hands settling daintily at her waist.
You try not to stare too hard. You fail miserably. She’s incredible.
Madeline Ashton looks like she was designed to be looked at. Her blonde hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders, catching the light almost as much as the sequins do, and her makeup is perfectly done in that effortless way that probably took a million hours to achieve. Her posture alone is mesmerizing– spine straight, chin lifted slightly, every movement graceful and intentional, like she’s spent her entire life knowing how to command a room with a single motion. Even standing casually in front of you, she radiates confidence, a kind of easy glamour that makes it impossible to look anywhere else. Her smile is sharp and playful, eyes glittering with mischief, and, when she tilts her head just slightly, it feels like the whole world tilts with her.
You could look at Madeline all day, really.
Madeline’s grin widens as she watches you watch her. She drags her fingers slowly up and along her sides, smoothing over the curve of the fabric along her hips like she’s reminding you it's there. The motion is unhurried, deliberate, her eyes never leaving yours.
Behind you, Helen hums approvingly.
“Maddie loves an audience,” she murmurs in your ear, the hand on your stomach slowly making its way under your shirt, nails scratching idly against soft skin. You hum at the feeling, leaning back into her.
“I heard that,” Madeline says indignantly, pausing her movements.
“Are you saying it’s untrue?” Helen smiles teasingly. Then, her voice gets lower, almost stern. “You’re an attention whore, Maddie. Keep going.”
Madeline freezes slightly, almost unnoticeable as red creeps its way across her skin, along her chest and cheeks and ears. She bites her lip and shakily tries to continue the ‘show,’ establishing the dynamic immediately. In the back of your mind, you vaguely wonder how often Madeline– known for her indignant, bossy, bratty demeanor– takes on the more order-taking role in this relationship.
But, you don’t have too much time to consider the ins-and-outs of Madeline and Helen’s sex lives because Madeline’s hands are climbing up her body, squeezing her breasts on the way, until she’s reaching behind her for the clasps.
Each released clasp makes the body suit looser, until her arm is the only thing holding the flimsy fabric against her chest. Your hands twitch, unsure what to do with yourself, groaning when Helen takes your earlobe in her mouth again, her hand on your thigh moving to roam up your shirt and give an experimental squeeze to one of your breasts over your bra.
Your hips twitch forward without warning, almost imperceptible. But, of course Helen notices, and she hugs her arm around your stomach tighter, holding you down with a little more force.
“Be good and watch,” she growls and you hold back an audible moan. She kneads your chest again as a reward once you still.
Finally, the final clasp is undone and Madeline releases her hold on the cloth across her chest. The fabric slips down immediately, not all the way, but enough that her breasts spill out and your breath hitches. Behind you, Helen groans lowly, clearly also affected by the way pink nipples pebble when they touch cool air.
With icy blue eyes still locked onto you, Madeline slips her fingers into the fabric and tugs it down, down, down until she is completely bare. Helen was right, she is ethereal. You trace your eyes up her body, following the constellation of freckles, watching how her breath rises and falls in stutters. You whine quietly, trying to keep still, trying to be patient. Though it’s difficult with the way Helen continues to rove over you with her hands and lips.
“Like what you see?” Madeline prompts, slowly stepping towards you.
You nod feverishly but Helen quickly reaches up and grabs your chin with surprising roughness. She forces your head up as Madeline gets closer so that you keep looking her in the eye as she growls.
“Words. Tell Maddie how good she looks,” Helen orders.
You continue nodding as you babble. “You’re beautiful, Madeline. You’re– You’re– I mean– You’re incredible, you look– wow.”
Helen chuckles darkly and it sends a shiver down your spine, shooting straight to your core.
“Good girl,” Helen murmurs into your ear and you whine. Madeline giggles as she moves forward to stand right in front of you, scooting herself between your thighs. She rests her hands on your shoulders and you’re very thankful for Helen’s hand still on your chin, otherwise you would not be looking Madeline in the eyes right now.
Your hips buck forward again with a mind of their own, impatient.
Helen leans back and moves to slide off your shirt– kissing the now-bare skin of your shoulders with a sense of reverence– as Madeline kneels down and hooks her fingers into the belt loops of your shorts, peeling the fabric down tortuously slowly. Finally, you are left only in a simple black bra and cotton panties.
You blush, stuttering, “I don’t– I didn’t know, so I didn’t wear–”
As Helen removes her own jacket and shirt (you momentarily grieve the view you can’t see with her behind you, knowing how… well endowed the redhead is), she speaks.
“You’re beautiful,” she breathes against your neck, her dainty fingers moving to unclasp your bra with expert speed. The cold air of the bedroom hits your bare chest, nipples rising, and Helen takes advantage of that, grasping at one of your breasts, kneading and squeezing and pinching. You gasp, back arching into her touch.
Helen groans at your sounds before she speaks to Madeline– who is still kneeling in front of you, between your legs, and watching the way Helen toys with your tits, practically drooling.
“Maddie,” she says in warning, still playing relentlessly with your chest, “Keep going, baby. I wanna see you use that pretty mouth on (Y/N).”
You and Madeline freeze and release a groan at the same time. Madeline recovers quickly and bites her lip, looking up at you again, smiling mischievously.
She wraps her fingers around either side of your panties, pulling them down impatiently.
With the both of you clotheless, she grasps your knees and forces your legs apart.
“So wet,” she smiles, taking in the sight between your legs. A rush of arousal coats the inside of your thighs at her words and she grins wider. Before you can become self-conscious of her lustful staring, she leans in.
“Gonna eat you so good,” Madeline murmurs, hot breath puffing teasingly against your aching cunt. You whine, wordlessly begging her to continue. “Bet you taste incredible.”
Madeline finally dives in. With no preamble, she licks a broad stripe through wet folds at the same time Helen pinches a nipple harshly and sucks at your pulsepoint. The moan you let out is embarrassingly pornographic.
“M– Madeline!” Your hips buck up, chasing her warm, wet tongue as she expertly flicks, licks, and sucks. Behind you, Helen’s body shakes with a chuckle.
“Talented, isn’t she?” You moan and nod in response, not trusting your voice as Madeline continues like a woman starved.
With Helen’s hands roaming over every inch of your body, tracing freckles, licking against your neck, whispering dirty words in your ear, and Madeline’s relentless tongue against you, it’s no surprise you’re quickly approaching the edge.
“Uh– Umm–” you babble. “Madeline– Hel– Helen.”
Madeline sucks at your clit hard suddenly and a deep moan climbs through your chest and throat as your body leans back, head falling against Helen’s shoulder, eyes closing in ecstasy.
“You taste,” Madeline says between licks, ignoring the way you whine when she lifts from your core, “fucking divine.”
You whimper, lifting your hips to meet her mouth again. Madeline happily dives in once more.
Another moment passes before you’re looking over the precipice, moaning and babbling incomprehensibly.
And just like that, Helen speaks up. “Stop.”
Her tone is stern, leaving no room for argument. Madeline takes one more selfish lick, making you jolt, before she lifts up, chin glistening with your slick. You whine again, trying to chase her, but Helen holds you to her chest tighter until you stop.
“Helen–” you breathe. “Why– please–”
Madeline giggles as she leans back. “She begs quicker than me.”
You clamp your mouth shut, pink dusting your cheeks.
Helen brushes a damp hair from your forehead, a sickly sweet smile evident in her voice. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get what you want. Be patient.”
When your only response is a whimper, Helen moves from behind you, lifting off the bed until it's just you, sitting there, chest heaving, hips wiggling of their own accord, chasing friction.
Helen juts her chin out to the head of the bed. “Lie down up there. On your back.”
Head still reeling, core still begging for a release, you scramble up the bed until you're laying down. Madeline climbs on too, beside where Helen is standing, sitting up on her knees. Helen automatically brings a hand up to tangle in Madeline's hair and leans in to sloppily kiss her. You watch them, mouths smacking together lewdly, moans slipping through, tongues tangled together and it only makes your stomach boil with white-hot want.
When they’re done, Helen pulls Madeline back by the hair, making her groan lowly. She looks back at you, already plotting and grinning evily– which makes you embarrassingly turned on.
“Now, I wanna see how talented your tongue is,” Helen says, like it's obvious. She uses her grip on Madeline’s hair to lightly shove her forward onto her hands and knees, toward you. Madeline yelps, but it turns into a sweet moan as Helen tugs.
“Maddie, be a good girl and sit on (Y/N)’s face.” The simplicity and bluntness of her words sends arousal through you, making you drip onto the mattress.
Madeline needs no further instruction. She crawls forward, grinning with eagerness, until her thighs are bracketing your head, the smell of her arousal going straight to your core. You moan at the sight; soft, velvet folds, puffy and glistening with want. It makes you moan.
“Ready, baby?” Madeline asks, voice high and airy.
You nod.
Helen, who had taken the moment to strip herself bare (you had to pry your eyes from her incredible tits, rising and falling with slight stuttering breaths; the only evidence this was affecting Helen like it was you and Madeline), spoke before Madeline could sit fully down. “Beg for her.”
The command makes you moan, but you push through, croaking out, “Please. Yes, please, I’m ready, Madeline. Please let me eat you out.”
Madeline whimpers and looks back at Helen for permission. With a nod, Madeline finally bears down. When your tongue connects with her aching cunt, a deep guttural moan escapes the both of you.
Madeline is sweet and tangy against your tongue. She rocks her hips forward with abandon, taking pleasure from your lips without hesitation. Her thighs start shaking immediately, clamping against your head as her sharp nails grip tightly at your hair. The groan you release at the tug on your scalp travels through the blonde, making her movements stutter slightly.
Just as you get used to the feeling, the bed dips. Helen crawls towards you until she’s straddling you, plush thighs pressing sturdily against you and Helen’s fingers are skating teasingly up and down the inside of your thigh. Your legs open wider of their own accord under her featherlight touch.
Somewhere in the back of your mind you register her chuckle and the murmuring of a good girl before her fingertips finally slide through your twitching cunt, gathering slick wetness on her fingers and pressing lightly on your clit.
A strangled moan escapes your throat and travels through Madeline, making her pitch forward with a keening sound. You reach up to wrap an arm around one of her thighs, the other hand splaying supportively across her stomach, holding her against your lips as you continue to relish in her taste.
Helen’s fingers work against you in confident, fast strokes. It’s not long before you find yourself twitching, reeling, peering over the edge again. You grasp at Madeline, hands finding anything for purchase as the feeling floods hot through you, red blooming bright and vivid against your skin.
But, once again, Helen stops short as you clench harder around her fingers.
You groan, bucking up to chase friction she won’t give you, frustrated noises muffled by Madeline’s cunt still grinding against you.
Helen grips your thigh in harsh warning. “You don’t come until Maddie does.”
You nod against Madeline, hoping Helen can see, continuing to work against her.
When her hand slips into your wetness again, it's light, teasing, not nearly enough to get you off even if you did most of the work. It makes you whimper, still uselessly chasing the slowly climbing feeling of ecstasy.
Madeline is hurtling towards the edge, grinding and whimpering and moaning. The sounds her voice makes, airy and whiny, along with the lewd noise of your tongue against her and Helen’s fingers against you are so erotic, you can’t think straight. You draw mindless patterns against Madeline’s clit, sucking on it intermittently and Madeline jolts every once in a while.
“(Y/N), H– Helly, I’m–” she gasps, “I’m close.”
You could hear the smile in Helen’s voice as she responded, her fingers suddenly pressing down harder against you– which set off the chain reaction of you moaning into Madeline, making her cry out again, “What do you say, Maddie?”
Madeline twitches against you, a rush of arousal spilling onto your chin. You actively fight to stave off the orgasm threatening to wash over you.
“Please, Helly, please let me come!” Madeline barely hesitates.
“Oh, you’re doing so good, baby, so good.” Helen reaches forward, her unoccupied hand reaching around to grasp at Madeline’s throat. She doesn’t squeeze hard, just enough that it’s almost grounding, restricting Madeline’s airflow enough that she sees stars. “(Y/N), make my Maddie come with that pretty mouth.”
You moan hard, surprising yourself, and double your efforts just as Helen mirrors your vigor. She sinks her fingers down again, prodding at your entrance and squeezes a little harder at Madeline's throat.
“I’m– umm! Baby, please, I’m gonna–” Madeline cries out and clenches around nothing, fingers gripping tighter at your scalp, rolling her hips against you harder until, suddenly, they stutter.
Liquid fire blooms from her core as Madeline tumbles over quickly with another lewd moan. You lap at the arousal gushing from her, savoring the way muscles twitch and quiver, your hips bucking as Helen easily inserts two fingers into you.
“She’s so pretty when she comes, isn’t she?” Helen asks, as Madeline whimpers, trying to sit up and crawl away from your hungry licks.
“I changed my mind,” Helen says, using her hand around Madeline's throat and her body weight to push her back onto your tongue. The sudden pressure makes Madeline’s back arch, as she gasps with overstimulation, eyes glazing over. “I wanna see my baby come again. Then you can come, (Y/N).”
“Helly– I can’t– It’s too– too much,” Madeline whines as tremors wash over her in waves. Your mind is so fuck-drunk you can only do as Helen says, continuing your ministrations and making Madeline almost scream.
“C’mon, baby, you can do it. Be a good girl, my Maddie, and take it,” She growls the last two words, leaning forward and pulling Madeline back until they’re flush against each other. She attacks Madeline’s neck with her lips, nipping and sucking and biting. The hand on her throat slides down her front, teasing her tits for a moment before reaching down further. You take the hint and move your tongue lower, pressing against Madeline’s entrance.
Just as Helen reaches her wet warmth, taking your spot at her clit, you dip your tongue experimentally into her, moaning as she clenches hard around you and lets out a keening sound.
The entire time, Helen’s hand hasn’t stilled inside you. Instead, she begins thrusting harder, curling her fingers against the spot inside you that has you stuttering, thumb brushing bruising patterns against your clit. Colors erupt across your vision and you swear you see stars as hot pleasure courses through you.
Both you and Madeline are whimpering pathetically, chasing pleasure with fuck-drunk, mindless fervor.
Madeline’s breath hitches and her cunt clenches against you again, so hard you can barely thrust your tongue into her.
“Helly, I’m gonna– again– can I, please, baby,” Madeline babbles incoherently.
Helen quickens her pace against Madeline and stops leaving dark purple bruises against her neck to coo in her ear.
“Of course, baby, come for me again. You did so good.” Helen's voice is velvet smooth, walking the fine line between oh-so-sweet and teasingly patronizing, and it’s enough for Madeline to lurch forward with a shout as she clenches against your tongue.
Madeline’s climax washes over her in unforgiving waves as Helen speaks again, burying her fingers impossibly deeper into you.
“(Y/N), come with my Maddie. You both did so well.”
You groan and allow the tension in your abdomen to finally release, letting pleasure take over as Madeline stutters against you with breathy moans. The muscles of her legs spasm against your head, shockwaves jolting through her with every pulse.
The combination of Helen’s commanding voice, her relentless, pounding fingers, and Madeline’s release coursing through her over you is enough to push you into a mind-numbing orgasm. The white-hot spring coiled inside of you finally snaps and you come with a cry against Madeline’s spent, aching cunt, letting your lips leave her to take in a groaning breath.
Helen fucks you through it greedily, until you’re whimpering and twitching, mind blank with overstimulating pleasure.
Finally, she slides out of you, leaving you shuddering at the empty feeling, a light gasp escaping your lips. At the same time, she slides her hands off of Madeline’s clit and slowly, gently pulls her off of you. Madeline slumps into the mattress, lazily wrapping herself around you and planting sloppy, wet kisses along your jaw and cheek, leaning up to capture your lips with hers.
“So good, baby,” she whispers against your lips, her fingers reaching up to turn your head to the side so she can languidly kiss into you, tongue sliding against yours and moaning when she tastes herself.
“Maddie’s right,” Helen speaks up, “Such a good job, baby.”
The praise goes straight to your core again and you moan into Madeline’s mouth.
Helen lifts one of her legs so that she’s straddling your thigh. She is absurdly wet and the feeling of her as she slowly begins grinding, warm and slow, experimentally, makes you audibly moan.
“That was so good, baby, so hot. It’s my turn now,” Helen continues as she rocks against your thigh. You flex the muscles there, smiling against Madeline’s lips when you hear Helen suck in a breath. “Let me use you, (Y/N), be a good girl and get me off.”
Something takes over you. Maybe it's the way Helen’s breath stutters, her chest heaving as she sighs and hums. Seeing Helen’s demeanor go from calm, cool, collected, and in control to breathy and wanting, sets a fire in your stomach.
You lean back from Madeline’s lips for a moment to meet green eyes almost completely overshadowed with blown pupils.
You take Helen’s hips, lifting them off your thigh so you can slip two fingers into pulsing, wet warmth. Helen groans at the sudden change, grinding down on your fingers. Her fiery red hair sticks to her sweaty forehead she fucks your fingers deeper in.
“God, baby–” she moans, “Fuck– another finger.”
When she lifts up and bears down once more, you slip in a third finger and grin proudly, watching her face morph into pure pleasure. Before you can bask in the vision of this deity bouncing on your fingers with reckless abandon, Madeline grabs your chin roughly and pulls you back into a bruising kiss.
“Attention whore,” Helen grunts, smiling when Madeline whines petulantly against your lips. Her body is spent, so she just lies down and enjoys the electric, needy, open-mouth kisses you give her as Helen grinds against your fingers with quiet, deep groans.
Heat floods your core, blooming into your stomach and winding that spring again when Helen’s thigh presses against your still-wet cunt deliciously. At the same time, Madeline pushes her tongue into your mouth and you moan around it.
“You’re doing so well, (Y/N), so good, baby– don’t stop.” Helen’s murmured rambling and praise spurs you on. You pound deeper into her, stretching her and curling against a spot that has her spinning, arousal gushing onto your fingers.
“God–” her hips stutter, thigh pressing into you even harder, “Like that! Baby, I’m gonna– I’m close–”
Helen’s thighs quake with the effort to keep herself upright. Her back arches with a moan and suddenly she’s coming hard against your fingers. At the same time, a smaller, more tame orgasm washes over you in hot, slow waves. You moan unison, hips jolting against her shaking thigh.
With a few more tremors, Helen lifts off of your fingers, gasping at the sudden emptiness.
Madeline finally releases your lips and you take in a deep, full breath, chest heaving and glistening with sweat. The blonde scoots over so Helen can take her place, nestling in between you, boneless and spent. Madeline immediately wraps herself around Helen, an arm laying possessively across her stomach, a leg lifting up and hooking around one of hers, and snuggling her face into the crook of Helen’s neck.
Helen grabs you and pulls you up until your head rests against her chest. She wraps an arm around you, pulling you flush against her side, doing the same with Madeline on her other side until she is surrounded in sweaty, satisfied warmth. She runs a hand up and down your arm and tangles the other in Madeline’s soft, blonde curls.
You sigh content and extraordinarily tired, allowing your eyes to flutter shut.
“Quite the show, right?” Helen asks suddenly, smiling. There’s a million unspoken questions in her voice; How are you? Are you okay? Was that what you wanted?
You blush and nod against her chest.
“Best show I’ve ever seen,” you mumble, grinning. “Get it in theatres.”
Madeline giggles at the idea. She wouldn’t be opposed at all to another sex tape getting ‘leaked.’ She imagines how her fans of hopeless twenty year old lesbians would react if they saw Madeline getting eaten out by one of them and grins, wide and evil.
Helen rolls her eyes and holds you tighter, giving a playful, warning squeeze. “No, that’s a show just for you, baby.”
“I’m not opposed to that,” you laugh and Helen’s chest and stomach shake below you with a similar chuckle.
As your limbs get heavier, a deep, fulfilled exhaustion rolling over you in sudden waves, you allow yourself to drift off, snuggling closer against Helen.
And, in the last seconds of your consciousness, you vaguely note that you feel you’re missing something in this intimate moment. Like a steadying heartbeat beneath your ears. You allow the thought to wander away from you, chalking it up to not paying enough attention, and let sleep take over you.