Elion sighed and leaned back in his chair, trying his best to resist the stimulation.
"I don’t need babysitters."
Ophelia’s lips twitched into a faint, knowing curve, her gaze dropping to his mouth, imagining it latched onto her nipple, sucking hard while she ground against him. "Of course not."
"But," Esme said softly, "we do need a future."
The weight behind those words lingered.
Elion glanced at the untouched plates in front of them.
Elion’s gaze flicked to their neglected plates, the food cooling while their bodies burned. "You’re not even eating," he noted.
Esme’s smile bloomed, slow and sultry, her thighs rubbing together. "We’re not hungry."
Ophelia’s gaze sharpened playfully.
"At least, not for that."
Elion picked up his drumstick again and took another calm bite.
"Sit properly," he reminded them without looking up.
They did.
But the looks on their faces did not change.
They watched Elion resume his meal. Their eyes locked on him, unblinking, tracing the way his lips parted around another chunk of meat, juices dripping down his chin.
Esme’s fingers drummed lightly on the table edge, her full breasts rising and falling faster, nipples stiffening against the thin silk of her blouse. Ophelia’s thighs clenched under the tablecloth, her pussy already slick, aching for the stretch of his thick cock.
Elion savored the final bite, the rich flavor bursting on his tongue as he chewed slowly, deliberately ignoring the heat radiating from across the table. He swallowed, then lifted a napkin to his mouth, wiping away the remnants with a firm swipe, his strong hand flexing.
The moment the napkin dropped, they moved. Esme stood first, her chair scraping back as she yanked her blouse open, buttons popping free to reveal her heavy tits bouncing out, pink nipples hard and begging.
"Can’t wait anymore, champion," she purred, voice low and needy. "That mouth of yours has me dripping—now it’s time to feed us something better."
Ophelia rose in sync, shrugging off her bodice so her enormous breasts spilled forward, swaying heavily as she kicked away her skirt. "Yes, Elion," she added, her tone commanding yet breathless, "strip for us. We need that cock buried deep, right now."
Esme’s dress pooled at her feet next, exposing her petite curves—plump ass cheeks jiggling, her shaved pussy lips glistening with arousal, already puffy and wet.
They pounced like starved beasts, Esme vaulting over the table first, her naked body sliding across the polished wood, scattering plates and knocking over a goblet that spilled wine in a dark red puddle.
Ophelia flanked her, climbing onto the edge and crawling toward him, her thick ass high, pussy dripping a trail of slickness behind her.
Elion’s chair rocked back as Esme straddled his lap, her wet folds grinding against the front of his trousers, soaking through the fabric to his hardening cock.
"Feel how ready I am?" Esme whispered hotly against his ear, nipping the lobe. "My pussy’s clenching just thinking about you splitting me open."
Ophelia’s hands were on him instantly, tugging at his shirt to expose his chest, nails raking down his abs while her tits pressed into his arm, soft and warm. "Don’t make us beg too much," Ophelia teased, her breath warm on his neck. "Though I’d love to hear you command us first."
He gripped Esme’s hips, intending to push her off, but the feel of her hot, dripping entrance teasing his bulge made his resistance crumble.
"Fuck," he growled, realizing the futility—these succubi wouldn’t stop until he filled them, their demonic need overriding everything.
His cock throbbed, lengthening to its full twelve inches, straining painfully in his pants. No choice now; he’d fuck them raw right here. "You two are insatiable sluts," he rumbled, voice rough with lust. "Fine, spread those legs—I’m going to wreck this table pounding your greedy holes."
Elion shoved Esme back onto the table, her ass landing amid the scattered food—smeared gravy and bits of bread sticking to her skin.
She spread her legs wide, her pussy lips parting to show the pink, clenching hole inside, juices leaking out. "Yes, like that!" Esme moaned, arching her back. "Look at my cunt, Elion—it’s yours to ruin."
He yanked his trousers down, his massive cock springing free, veined and thick, the head already leaking pre-cum.
Ophelia dropped to her knees beside him, grabbing his shaft and stroking hard, her tongue lapping at the tip to suck off the salty bead. "Mmm, so thick and ready," she murmured, eyes locked on his. "I want this down my throat first—feed me, champion."
"Take it," Elion commanded, grabbing Ophelia’s hair and guiding her mouth down. She opened wide, lips stretching around his girth as she sucked deep, her throat bulging while her cheeks hollowed.
"That’s it, choke on my dick," he grunted, thrusting forward. Esme watched, fingering her own pussy, two fingers plunging in and out with wet squelches, her free hand kneading her tits, pinching nipples until they reddened. "Hurry up, Ophelia," Esme whined playfully. "I need him inside me—my walls are aching for that fat cock to stretch me wide."
He thrust into Ophelia’s mouth, fucking her face with short, brutal pumps. Her gags mixed with slurps as saliva dripped down her chin onto her heaving breasts. "Good girl, swallow every inch," Elion praised through gritted teeth.
Esme crawled closer on the table, pulling her knees to her chest to expose her asshole and pussy fully, the forgotten turkey bones rolling under her back. "Fuck me first," she begged, voice husky, "ram that cock in and breed me deep. Fill me until I’m leaking your seed all over this mess."
Elion pulled out of Ophelia’s throat with a pop, strings of spit connecting her lips to his slick shaft. "Your turn to taste her," he told Ophelia, smirking.
He climbed onto the table, the wood groaning under their combined weight, and the plates clattering to the floor.
Positioning between Esme’s thighs, he lined up and slammed in—his twelve-inch length burying to the hilt in one thrust, her tight pussy walls gripping like a vice, stretching around him until her belly bulged slightly from the depth.