The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 566

Chapter 566: 566 | Sex Grade

Sloane pushed herself up on shaky arms. "I thought I was riding him properly."

"You were riding him enthusiastically. There’s a difference." Diane guided Sloane off me, and the loss of her warmth made me groan. "Watch."

Diane swung her leg over my hips, settling her weight on my thighs. She wrapped her hand around my cock, still slick from Sloane, and stroked slowly while making eye contact with her daughter.

"First lesson," Diane said. "You don’t just drop onto him. You tease. Make him want it. Make him beg for it."

She positioned herself above me, rubbing the head against her entrance without letting me inside. My hips tried to thrust up and she pressed a hand to my stomach, holding me down.

"See how he reacts? He’s trying to take control. Most men will. Your job is to remind them that you’re the one setting the pace."

"I was setting the pace."

"You were racing. Different thing entirely." Diane sank down an inch, just enough to take the head inside her, and then stopped. The heat of her around just the tip was maddening. "You want to build anticipation. Make him feel every inch as it disappears."

She lowered herself slowly, so slowly I could count the seconds, until she was fully seated with me buried to the hilt. Her head tipped back and a soft moan escaped her lips.

"Then you stay still." Her voice came out breathier than before. "Let him feel what he’s inside. Let yourself feel what you’re wrapped around. This is the moment most people rush through, but it’s the most important one."

Sloane watched with hungry eyes, one hand drifting between her own legs.

Diane noticed and smiled. "Good. Touch yourself while you watch. Learn what your body likes while I show you what his likes."

Then Diane started to move.

It wasn’t like Sloane’s bouncing, urgent rhythm. Diane moved like water, like something that had learned to flow around obstacles instead of crashing through them. Her hips rolled in figure-eights, grinding down on me at the end of each circle, and every motion pulled sounds from my throat that I couldn’t suppress.

"You feel that?" Diane was talking to Sloane but looking at me, watching my face contort with pleasure. "When I twist at the bottom, I’m hitting a spot inside me that makes everything clench. He feels it too. You can tell by the way his hands grab my hips."

I hadn’t even noticed my hands moving, but she was right. My fingers dug into her waist, trying to pull her down harder, and she let me set the pace for exactly two strokes before taking control back.

"Don’t let him take over." She placed her hands on my chest and pushed herself up, changing the angle. "He’ll try. They always do. But you’re the one who knows what feels best for you, and when you feel good, he feels good. It’s symbiotic."

"I know what symbiotic means."

"Then act like it."

Diane’s pace increased, but it was still controlled. She rode me with the confidence of someone who’d done this thousands of times, who knew exactly how to move to drive both of us toward the edge without falling over it.

Sloane’s hand moved faster between her legs. Through the bond I felt echoes of her arousal, blending with the direct pleasure of being inside Diane until I couldn’t tell where one sensation ended and the other began.

"She’s going to come again just from watching," I managed.

"I know." Diane’s smile carried pride and something darker. "She likes this. Watching her mother take what she wants. Learning how it’s done."

"I don’t—" Sloane started, but her voice cut off in a gasp.

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