The girl's hand shot down. Her small fingers closed around the succubus's wrist, trying to pull it away. But the succubus kneaded her boob with the other hand—rolling the small, stiff nipple between her fingers—and rubbed the girl's pussy in slow, deliberate circles.
"Mmh—nn—"
The girl's protest died in a moan. Her hips bucked forward involuntarily, pressing her hairy cunt against the succubus's palm. The water sloshed around them.
"You're wet," the succubus purred against her ear. "Already wet for the man who saved you?"
The girl trembled.
Across the tub, Cruxius was roaming the thick mother's body.
His fingers—still four of them deep in her stretched pussy—pulled out slowly. The wet sound of the withdrawal made the mother gasp. He dragged his hand up her belly, through the valley of her enormous tits, to her face. He pressed two fingers against her lips.
"Open."
She opened.
