Whenever Lucille pushed herself onto Byron's dick, his head jerked forward and his lips touched Lalisha's pussy, kissing her folds.
It was heaven.
He wouldn't be wrong to describe it as one of the highest forms of pleasure.
Pure bliss.
Lucille and Lalisha, two beauties, Byron's dick in one's pussy, his lips on another's virgin folds. This, indeed, was heaven.
He remained in this heaven for more than twenty minutes with Lucille still bent over in front of him, her bubbly ass pressed against him as she impaled herself onto his dick with so much velocity that made juices spurt around. Their bodies collided again and again.
If a blind person had passed nearby during this time, he would have thought that it was someone with wet hands, clapping them.
And, of course, he would not be so wrong. Lucille was getting a clapping, both literally and metaphorically.
After Byron grabbed Lalisha's hips to pull her to his face, he didn't keep them there. Nor did he keep them idle.
