My Taboo Harem!-Chapter 278: Two Different Worlds; One Shaft Core (r-18)
Sierra shattered instantly—cunt clamping like a vice on his thickened girth, squirting in violent, clear arcs that soaked Maddie’s back and Phei’s chest, cream frothing thick and white at the base of his cock in bubbling rings. Her body trembled violently beneath Maddie; hips jerked in uncontrollable little spasms; tears streamed down her cheeks as the orgasm ripped through her without warning.
Phei pulled out slick and glossy—Sierra’s pussy fluttering empty, still pulsing—and switched back to Maddie in one smooth glide. Girth pulsed even bigger now—ten veined inches, stretching her wider than before.
The sudden change ripped a hoarse curse from his own throat; he felt her walls flutter in protest and then welcome him, greedy and soaked.
"Goddamn," he breathed, half to himself, voice wrecked. "You two are gonna kill me...and I’m gonna die happy."
Legs coiling now like he was about to launch them both off the chaise. Mouth claiming Sierra’s in a messy, devouring kiss over Maddie’s shoulder while he fucked Maddie through her next rising wave—slow grinds turning fast, brutal slams. SLAP SLAP SLAP—wet flesh colliding deafening; their stacked bodies rocking as one, cunts gushing in tandem, screams overlapping in hoarse, filthy harmony.
He drove them through wave after shattering wave—orgasms chaining without end—mastering every inch, every spasm, every desperate plea with zero fucking mercy.
He loved this part—the messy, human reality of it. The way their bodies didn’t care about grace or performance; they just reacted. The little hitches in their breathing when the overstimulation edged too close to pain.
The way Maddie’s nails dug crescent moons into his forearms without meaning to.
The soft, involuntary sob Sierra made every time his balls tapped her clit just right. The faint, salty scent of sweat mixing with the sharp, sweet musk of their combined arousal hanging thick in the air.
No fantasy polish. Just skin on skin, heat on heat, need on need.
He shifted his stance—legs spreading a fraction wider, knees bending so he could drop lower—and lined himself up with Sierra again.
The moment he pulled free of Maddie with a wet, obscene schlick, her cunt fluttered empty and desperate, a thin string of cream stretching from his tip to her gaping lips before snapping. He didn’t let either of them catch their breath.
Slam.
Nine thick inches buried into Sierra in one brutal drop. She arched hard beneath Maddie, a guttural "Fuck—" tearing out of her as her walls stretched around the fresh girth.
He held there for two pounding heartbeats—letting her feel every pulsing vein—then started counting again, each thrust deeper, harder, more deliberate than the last.
Mouth on Maddie’s neck now—open-mouthed kisses turning to sucking bites that left blooming red marks. Legs braced wide, one foot hooked behind Sierra’s ankle to pin her exactly where he wanted her. Tongue flicking out to taste the sweat pooling in the hollow of Maddie’s collarbone while his hips snapped forward in short, punishing jabs.
One. A low groan rumbled in his chest when Sierra’s cunt spasmed around him—already so close again.
Two. He tilted his pelvis just enough to grind the fat head against that spongy spot inside her that made her toes curl.
Three. Mouth moved to Maddie’s ear—"You feel how tight she gets when I’m this deep in her?"—voice gravel-rough, almost reverent.
And on it went—ten strokes, each one different in rhythm or angle or filthy whispered praise—until Sierra broke with a keening cry, squirting so hard it splashed warm against his lower abs and ran in rivulets down both their bodies.
He switched back to Maddie without pulling all the way out—half-buried in Sierra, then sliding up into Maddie’s waiting heat in one smooth, filthy glide.
The sudden change in tightness ripped a curse from his throat.
Phei paused for the briefest second—cock still half-buried in Maddie, slick and throbbing—letting himself really feel the contrast as he switched between them again. He’d done it a few times now, but every shift still hit him like the first: two completely different worlds wrapped around the same shaft.
Maddie’s cunt was hotter, almost feverish, the kind of molten grip that felt like sinking into liquid silk left too long in the sun. Her walls were plush and plushier—soft, pillowy ridges that fluttered and sucked at him like they were trying to pull him deeper with every involuntary spasm.
When he slid in, it was smooth, welcoming, almost too easy at first... until she clenched.
Then it turned greedy, rippling in frantic little waves that milked him from base to tip, her slick so copious it made obscene squelching sounds with even the smallest movement. The heat radiated up his length, making his balls tighten every time he bottomed out; her cervix kissed the head like a soft, insistent mouth.
He could feel the difference in texture too—her inner folds were finer, more delicate, folding around his veins in silky pleats that dragged deliciously on the out-stroke.
Sierra, though—fuck—Sierra was tighter, denser, a vice made of velvet steel. Her entrance gripped like a ring of muscle that had to be forced open every single time, no matter how wet she was.
Once he pushed past that first resistance, her walls hugged him harder, almost punishingly snug, textured with thicker, more pronounced ridges that caught on the underside of his cockhead and made him growl low in his throat.
It felt like being squeezed in a warm, softest living fist—less give, more fight. Every thrust met resistance that turned into perfect, clinging friction; her slick was thicker, creamier, coating him in sticky layers that frothed white at the base after just a few strokes.
When she came—and trust me... she came so much and hard—her cunt didn’t flutter so much as clamp, locking down in brutal, rhythmic pulses that made his vision blur and his hips stutter.
The stretch around his thickening girth felt more intense with her, the pressure building right at the root until it bordered on ache—in the best fucking way.
He pulled out of Maddie with a slow, deliberate drag—feeling her softer walls reluctantly release him, slick strings snapping between his tip and her gaping lips—then lined up with Sierra again.
The moment the head breached her, that tight ring snapped shut behind it like a trap, and he hissed through his teeth.
"Shit," he muttered, voice wrecked, eyes half-lidded as he sank deeper. "You feel that difference, don’t you? Maddie’s heat and melt... you’re fucking tight, like you’re trying to strangle me every inch."
Sierra whimpered beneath them both, hips twitching up involuntarily. Maddie, pressed flush on top, let out a shaky laugh that turned into a moan when Phei rolled his hips, grinding the base against both their clits at once.
He switched back—sliding into Maddie with one long, smooth glide. The sudden plush give after Sierra’s iron grip made him groan out loud; it was like plunging into warm honey after being squeezed in a vise.
Her cunt welcomed him greedily, walls rippling in welcome, heat blooming up his shaft until it felt like his whole cock was wrapped in liquid fire.
"Gods—Maddie opens right up for me," he rasped, almost to himself, hips starting to snap again. "But you..." He pulled out halfway, then slammed back into Sierra in one brutal drop, making her cry out. "You fight me the whole way in, then lock down like you never want me to leave."
He kept alternating—short, punishing switches now—five strokes in Maddie’s silky heat, then five in Sierra’s crushing tightness—savoring every single shift.
The way his cock throbbed harder each time he changed, veins pulsing against different textures, different pressures. Maddie’s slick ran thinner, clearer, gushing in hot jets that painted everything below; Sierra’s was creamier, sticking to him in thick rings that frothed and dripped in slow, obscene strings.
He loved them both—the contrast kept him edged, kept him feral. One cunt begged to be filled deeper; the other demanded to be conquered harder.
And his cock—swollen, slick, aching—felt every filthy, perfect difference like it was made for exactly this: ruining them one texture, one grip, one shattering orgasm at a time.
"Tell me which one you want next," he growled, voice low and dangerous, hips never stopping their relentless rhythm. "Because I could do this all fucking night."
Forty-five minutes.
They were already ruined.
And he was just getting started.
