Viktor's hips found their stride.
Both hands came down onto the table on either side of her, caging her in, and then his palms slid forward — under her hanging body, up her stomach, closing over both breasts from below — fingers digging into the full, warm weight of them, kneading hard, thumbs finding both nipples and 'pulling.'
"'Your pussy,'" he said, against the back of her neck, his hips blurring — "'is tight.'"
PAH! PAH!
"Y-YES~!! AAAHH~!! D-DON'T—!! HNGH~!!!"
Below, Gwen had changed position.
She was lying on the floor under the table, face up, her head between his feet — and she'd reached up and found his cock with her tongue at the point where it disappeared into Lira, her mouth pressed to the stretched ring of Lira's entrance, tasting the combination of blood and seed and arousal with every thrust.
She hadn't planned this.
Her body had simply arrived here and she had followed.
