Made To Want Ch 03

Hey Everyone,

Thanks for making it through to Chapter 3. I'm hoping that the fact that you're here means that you've enjoyed the first two chapters. This is the first story I've been confident enough to publish. If you've enjoyed it, I'd really love it if you could drop a comment letting me know what you like or what you'd want to see more of in future stories. Hopefully that'll help me write more.

Ok, on with the show.....

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Molly was still pressed against Hailey's chest.

Their legs tangled. Their breath slowing. Their bodies sticky from what they'd done to each other. She lay on her side, one thigh thrown over Hailey's hip, her palm splayed flat across the other girl's stomach as if touch alone could keep this peace in place.

Hailey's fingers toyed gently with the ends of Molly's braid.

Neither spoke.

And for a long moment - maybe the longest of the day - no one moved.

Reese was lying nearby, watching them. Her face was unreadable. Blank. She looked at their hands. At the way Hailey's fingers stroked Molly's shoulder. At the way Molly had curled into her after the orgasm - like she was safe now.

Like she was done.

And for a flicker of a moment, Reese believed it had worked.

She believed she'd taken it for her.

Lauren shattered the silence.

"Bend her."

Molly turned her head, eyes wide, lips parted.

Reese sat up too fast - her body screamed, but she ignored it.

"No," she said, voice hoarse. "You said-"

"I said she was one of us," Lauren said softly. "Not that she was spared."

Molly blinked.

Then sat up slowly.

Her fingers brushed her thigh - a nervous tick.

Then she nodded.

Reese's heart dropped.

"You don't have to," she said, louder now, voice shaking. "You don't-Molly, you don't."

But Molly looked at her sister.

And smiled.

"I do."

She stood.

Still naked. Her thighs still slick, lips still swollen and tender from Hailey's fingers. She walked toward him slowly - not seductively. Just ready. Each step deliberate. Her chest rose with deep breaths, her arms at her sides.

He sat on the couch.

Still hard. Still heavy.

Still waiting.

She stopped in front of him.

"I want to matter," she said. "Like she did."

She turned.

Bent.

Arms resting on the edge of the couch. Hair falling to one side. Legs slightly parted. Her ass raised.

It was perfect.

Not because it was flawless - it wasn't. There were stretch marks at the base. A faint tan line from running shorts. A little tremble in the glutes from nerves.

But because she offered it.

Openly.

Reese was crying now.

Not loud. Just there. The kind of crying you do when the air betrays you.

Hailey sat motionless.

Lauren approached Molly from behind.

Spit in her hand.

Reached between her cheeks.

And rubbed it in.

Molly gasped.

Lauren smiled.

"Good girl."

He stood now.

Moved behind her.

Reese tried to speak - but the words stuck.

She watched.

Watched as he grabbed Molly's hips.

Watched as he lined his cock up.

Watched as he pushed - slow, steady - the fat, spit-slick head pressing against her untouched asshole.

Molly whimpered.

Her fingers gripped the couch cushion.

He didn't thrust.

He pressed.

Slow.

Molly's mouth dropped open.

Her back arched.

And her ass opened for him.

Inch by inch.

Breath by breath.

She took him.

And Reese watched it happen.

Watched Molly's face turn to disbelief, then pain, then something even worse:

Pride.

And that's when Reese knew.

Her sacrifice had meant nothing.

He didn't move right away.

Just stood behind Molly, cock heavy and slick at the tip, resting it against the cleft of her ass like it belonged there already. She twitched when it touched - not from fear, but from the weight of the moment. Her breath caught. Her hands curled tighter into the cushion. Her back arched just slightly, her thighs pressing inward, instinct trying to close what she had just offered.

The room held its breath.

And then he spoke.

Not to Molly.

To Reese.

"Lube me."

The words landed like a fist to the chest.

Reese flinched.

She was still seated, legs curled beneath her, face wet, arms wrapped around her stomach as if she could hold herself shut. But now she looked up. Her eyes went from him to Molly's bare, trembling ass - open, vulnerable - and back to the cock he wanted her to touch.

Lauren watched closely.

Silent.

Smiling.

This was the final lesson.

Reese rose on shaking legs.

She stepped forward.

Each footfall felt like it was happening underwater - slow, detached, wrong. Her hands twitched at her sides. Her chest ached. Her throat burned with everything she wanted to say but couldn't.

When she reached him, she dropped to her knees.

Her eyes didn't meet his.

Her hands lifted.

One wrapped around the base of his cock - warm, thick, veined and pulsing with want. The other spat into her palm. Then again. Then slowly - reverently, shamefully - she rubbed it in.

She stroked him.

Coating him in spit.

Sliding her hand from base to tip. Then back again. Slow. Obedient.

Molly moaned ahead of them.

"I'm ready," she whispered.

Reese's hand froze for half a second.

Then moved faster.

She spread the slickness around the head, under the ridge. Down the shaft. Her fingers slid under to cradle his balls. She didn't look at him. She didn't speak.

She just prepared him.

Prepared the cock that had ripped her open. The cock she'd bled for. The cock she'd begged to spare her sister.

And now she was helping it go in.

She pulled her hand back.

Sat down slowly.

And watched.

He gripped Molly's hips.

Lined up again.

And this time - he didn't pause.

He pushed.

Reese's lube made it easy.

The head slipped in.

Molly cried out - a mix of pain and delight.

He fed more in.

Inch by inch.

Molly's ass spread around him, swallowing his cock with a slowness that made the whole room ache. Her back arched. Her toes curled. Her fingers clawed the cushion.

Reese watched it all.

And hated how wet she was.

The head of his cock vanished into her ass like it had always known the way.

Molly's moan was long and broken - not a scream, not quite a sob, but something in between, something from the space behind her ribs. Her fingers clawed the couch. Her toes dug into the rug. Her back arched higher without meaning to, offering more without understanding why.

Reese watched from the floor.

Knees pulled to her chest. Cum dried between her breasts. Her hand still sticky from stroking the cock now buried inside her sister. Her jaw trembled with the effort of keeping her mouth shut.

He pushed deeper.

Molly gasped. Her head snapped back. Her spine bowed in submission.

"F-fuck-fuck-he's-oh God-"

He didn't stop.

He didn't slow.

His hands gripped her hips like handles, guiding her into every inch. Each thrust was deeper than the last - no mercy, no hesitation. Her ass opened around him, swallowed him, hugged him. The lube was good, but not perfect - there was still friction, still resistance. And he loved it.

The sound was obscene.

Slick, wet slap.

Breath hitch.

Creak of couch.

Another slap.

Molly was drooling.

Her face flushed.

Her nipples so hard they ached.

Her pussy - untouched - leaked down her thigh.

He leaned forward now, over her back, and spit between her shoulder blades. It rolled down her spine, glistening as he straightened and fucked harder, faster, deep enough that the impact of his hips against her ass made her squeal.

Reese's thighs clenched.

She was watching her sister get used.

Fucked in the ass.

Broken open.

Taken raw.

And she couldn't look away.

Lauren stepped behind her. Sat beside her. Slid a hand between her legs without asking.

Reese gasped.

"You didn't save her," Lauren whispered. "But you made it easier for him."

Reese moaned - hated herself for it.

Molly was babbling now.

"I'm-oh God-he's so deep-I feel it in my stomach-please don't stop-fuck, I love it-"

Her voice cracked on the last word.

She turned her head - looked at Reese.

And said it.

"Thank you."

Reese sobbed.

And came from Lauren's fingers.

Molly came seconds later - clenching around the cock in her ass, crying out so loud the walls listened. Her legs shook. Her pussy twitched. Her whole body collapsed forward - but he held her hips, and kept fucking, riding out her orgasm with hard, brutal thrusts.

Then he groaned.

And came inside her.

Balls tight. Cock pulsing. Filling her ass with thick, hot cum that had no business being there. It leaked around the base. Ran down the crack of her ass. Dripped onto her thighs.

Molly collapsed.

Face to the couch.

Body twitching.

Cum leaking from her hole.

Reese was still shaking. Lauren licked her fingers clean.

And then - finally - silence.

Until Lauren said:

"Now you both know."

She rose slowly.

Not rushed. Not eager. Just inevitable. Like she'd been waiting for her cue, knowing this moment was hers from the beginning.

He stood there - cock slick, still hard, tip glistening with cum and streaks of pink from Molly's rawness. Her asshole still leaked behind him, twitching open and closed with each beat of her pulse. The smell of it was still in the air - heat, sweat, ownership.

Lauren dropped to her knees.

Not submissively.

But completely in control.

She looked up at him once - then at the girls.

Molly was still collapsed over the couch, breath shallow, face pressed to the cushion, ass open and leaking.

Reese sat on the floor, arms around her knees, eyes locked to the cock she'd lubed for her sister.

Lauren smiled.

Then kissed the tip.

A long, slow press of lips to the flushed head, tasting cum and ruin, Molly and dominance all at once. Then she licked him. From base to tip. A single, slow drag of her tongue that collected everything - sweat, spit, the last drip of seed that clung to the underside.

She moaned softly as she sucked the head into her mouth.

Held it there.

Didn't move.

Just let him rest on her tongue, her eyes closed like she was taking communion. Then she pulled back - popped off with a soft smack of lips.

She cleaned him completely.

Used her mouth. Her tongue. Even the soft skin of her cheek, pressing against the shaft as she polished it with slow, reverent strokes.

By the time she finished, he was gleaming.

No trace of filth.

Only memory.

She looked up.

"Ready again," she said simply.

And then she turned to the girls.

"Who wants him next?"

The room didn't move for a moment.

The kind of stillness that doesn't come from peace - but from suspension. The feeling of a pendulum about to swing again, of knowing that the rhythm isn't over, just reset.

His cock was clean now.

Still hard.

Still flushed.

Still slick from the warmth of her mouth.

He stood there, watching.

Lauren knelt, back straight, calm as ever - not waiting for instruction, but waiting for choice.

Molly lay draped over the couch, her ass leaking slow trails of cum, thighs trembling, her lips parted in an open-mouthed haze.

Reese sat curled, still sticky, still wrecked, her hand pressed hard against her thigh like she could hold herself back.

Hailey stood now - off to the side. Naked. Awake. Her body raw but her posture gathering. Like she was remembering who she was.

And into that quiet, Lauren spoke:

"Well?"

She didn't look at any of them.

She didn't need to.

Her tone did all the pointing.

Reese opened her mouth.

Then closed it.

Molly shifted - a soft whimper escaping her lips, but her body didn't move.

And Hailey-

Hailey stepped forward.

One step.

Two.

Then she knelt.

Not gracefully.

Like she meant it.

Her head bowed. Her shoulders trembling. Her hands pressed to her thighs, knuckles white.

"I want him," she whispered.

Lauren tilted her head.

"Where?"

Hailey swallowed.

Her voice came cracked, but clear:

"My mouth."

She didn't look up.

Not yet.

"I want to earn it again."

He moved toward her.

And Reese exhaled - broken and soft - because she knew what that meant.

This wasn't over.

It never would be.

The cock was clean.

But soon, it wouldn't be.

Hailey had just spoken.

"My mouth."

She knelt.

Head bowed. Shoulders back. Her tits rising slowly with each breath, nipples stiff in the air. Her lips parted-not for air, not for words-but because she was ready.

The room felt still again.

Like this would be the next ritual.

Like this would be the act that stitched her back into belonging.

And then-softly, behind her-

Another sound.

Flesh on carpet. A movement. A presence.

Reese.

She crawled.

Not fast. Not frantic.

But with purpose.

Hands pressed flat, arms trembling, hair falling over one eye. Her whole body radiated wreckage, but her movement was steady.

She reached Hailey.

Paused beside her.

Lowered her gaze.

"I can't let you do it alone," she whispered.

Hailey turned her head.

Eyes met.

A beat.

Then both of them faced forward.

Both on their knees.

Shoulder to shoulder.

Mouths open.

Waiting.

He stepped closer.

His cock hung thick between them, gleaming slightly still from Lauren's tongue. It pulsed once-ready.

And then he gave it to them.

Hailey took the first stroke.

The head slipped past her lips, slow, reverent. She sucked him in with a low moan, cheeks hollowing, tongue curling. Her hands stayed at her sides.

She took four slow bobs.

Then pulled off.

Reese moved in.

Took him to the back of her throat on the first try-no fear anymore. No hesitation. Her eyes welled instantly, but she sucked, messy, needy, the way only a girl who knows the weight of failure does.

Four bobs.

Then off.

Back to Hailey.

He let them alternate like that.

Stroke for stroke.

Suck for suck.

Breath and tears and spit mixing at the base of his cock, dribbling down their chins, soaking their tits.

He didn't guide.

He just let them serve together.

And Lauren whispered:

"Good girls share."

Their heads moved like a rhythm born in breath.

Hailey sucked first, cheeks drawn in, her hands still at her sides, fingers curled into the rug. Her tongue moved in slow circles around the head, wet and reverent, before her lips slid halfway down the shaft.

She moaned softly.

Then pulled off with a string of spit stretching from her bottom lip to the tip of his cock.

Reese moved in without a word.

She didn't try to outdo it - she just met it. Her lips sealed around him like she was claiming a memory. Her throat opened to the shape she already knew too well. Her eyes brimmed, but they didn't close. She wanted him to see her see it.

He did.

He grunted - softly - the way men do when they feel it building.

The heat. The pressure. The inevitability.

He placed a hand on each of their heads.

Not to guide.

To hold.

To claim.

The rhythm increased - they shared him faster now, four strokes, two, back and forth, lips shiny with spit, chins slick. They didn't speak. They didn't need to.

Hailey's tongue licked around the base.

Reese sucked the head.

Then they kissed.

Fast, wet, messy - tongues sliding, trading spit and precum like communion - before both turned forward again.

They knew it was time.

He did too.

His breathing shifted.

His cock twitched.

His hands tightened on their hair.

"Open," he growled.

They did.

Side by side.

Mouths wide.

Tongues out.

Eyes up.

He groaned.

And came.

The first rope hit Hailey high on the cheek - thick, hot, sticky.

The second struck Reese across the lips - she licked it instantly.

The third landed between them - across both tongues, dripping down where their mouths nearly met.

They moaned.

Together.

Another rope. Across both chins. Another. Spattering their tits.

They didn't flinch.

They received it.

Cum drooled down their faces, mixing as it fell. Hailey leaned toward Reese, kissed the corner of her mouth, then licked the cum there. Reese whimpered, then returned the kiss - mouths open, full of his taste, their tongues tangled in shared filth.

He stepped back.

Cock softening.

Their faces a mess.

Their chests heaving.

Their mouths still open.

Lauren clapped once - slow. Smiling.

"That," she said, "is how you belong."

Neither Hailey nor Reese moved for a moment.

They just knelt there.

Still.

Shoulder to shoulder.

Faces dripping.

Tongues slack, lips glazed, breath shallow.

His cum clung to their chins, pooled at the base of their throats, streaked across flushed cheeks and damp collarbones. The rug below them had darkened beneath their knees. Their mouths had already touched twice. They were past hesitation. Past pride.

Hailey turned first.

Faced Reese.

Their eyes met-no words.

Hailey leaned in.

Her tongue slid across Reese's cheek, slow and deliberate, collecting a thick line of cum just beneath her eye. She swallowed it. Then kissed her. Open. Hungry. Like the cum wasn't something to clean-it was something to share.

Reese whimpered into the kiss.

Then returned it.

She leaned down. Licked Hailey's nipple-smeared with him-until it gleamed. Sucked it softly. Then up, across the curve of Hailey's breast, along the collarbone, collecting everything.

Every drop was worship.

Hailey moaned, tilted her head back.

Reese moved to her chin.

Their tongues met again-filthy, tangled, wet.

And then-

"Enough."

Lauren's voice landed like silk dropped over flame.

They turned to her.

Still kneeling.

Still ruined.

She stood now.

Legs parted slightly. Fingers trailing down her own stomach. One hand rested on her hip.

Her cunt was wet again-dripping.

She looked at them both and smiled.

"My turn."

She sat down on the couch. Legs parted.

"Face me," she said to Reese.

"Lie down," she said to Hailey.

They obeyed.

Reese crawled between Lauren's legs. Kneeling. Head tilted. Eyes wide. Tongue already peeking from her lips like an offering.

Hailey lay across the rug, face close to Reese's, her own mouth still damp with cum and kisses. Lauren reached down.

Pressed both hands on the backs of their heads.

"Clean me."

She was soaked. The folds of her pussy swollen and glistening, her clit proud and waiting. Her scent hit them instantly-salt and power, slick and warmth.

Reese licked the inner thigh.

Hailey kissed the mound.

Then both of them began.

Two tongues.

One cunt.

Reese sucked the clit softly.

Hailey licked the opening, then back up.

They kissed each other in between licks.

Spit and cum and wetness trailing everywhere.

Lauren leaned back.

Eyes closed.

And moaned.

"Don't stop," she whispered.

Her hands tightened in their hair.

"You don't stop until I scream."

The knock came soft and twice.

Like someone trying to be polite about entering hell.

Lauren was already standing.

She didn't flinch. She didn't glance around for permission. Like she knew this was coming. She just smiled, that small, cruel smile that never quite reached her eyes, and padded toward the door.

She didn't bother covering her tits - she just picked up a silk robe from the arm of the couch, pulled it closed, and tied it loosely around her waist. The outline of her body was still visible - her nipples hard, her thighs streaked with sweat, her cunt wet against the inner lining.

She opened the door.

And there she was.

Young. Maybe nineteen. Nervous in a curious way. She had a backpack slung over one shoulder and wore a soft yellow sundress, wrinkled from the car ride. Her bra was visible through the fabric - thin straps, white cotton. Her legs were pale and unmarked. She smelled like clean sheets and hand lotion.