"I want to see you pummel their pussies, Mr. Hart! Show me the animal in you!" Lana's voice boomed over the studio monitors, crackling with a raw, vicarious hunger.

​Sasha scrambled off my face, gasping for air, her skin flushed a deep, feverish pink. I didn't give Jess a second to breathe. I reached up and wrapped my hand firmly around her throat—not enough to hurt, but enough to let her know exactly who was in control. I pulled her face down to mine, crushing our lips together in a kiss that tasted like sweat and shared heat.

​"You like being my little studio whore, Jess?" I growled against her mouth, my thumb pressing into the soft dip of her neck. "You want me to treat you like the piece of meat you are?"

​"Yes! Please, Hart... fuck me like a whore!" she whimpered, her eyes rolling back as she gripped my forearms.

​I shifted my weight and began to drive into her with everything I had. I wasn't being gentle anymore. I was slamming into her, the rhythmic slap of our bodies echoing off the high studio ceilings. Jess was tossed back and forth by the force of my thrusts, her fake tits bouncing wildly, her voice dissolving into high-pitched, rhythmic cries.

​Sasha didn't stay on the sidelines. She crawled back into the fray, her body slick and shimmering. She leaned in to kiss Jess, their tongues tangling as I continued to hammer away below. Sasha's hand reached down, rubbing her own soaking wet pussy as she watched me disappear into her friend.

​"Fuck her, Hart! Break her!" Sasha screamed, her dirty talk fueling the fire. "Pummel that slut! I want to see you go deeper!"

​In the heat of the movement, my cock slipped out of Jess, slick with her juices. Before I could even adjust, Sasha dived down. She caught me in her mouth, giving me a few deep, frantic sucks that nearly sent me over the edge, her warm throat squeezing me tight. She looked up at me with a wicked, wide-eyed grin before guiding my head back to Jess's entrance.

​"Put it back in," Sasha whispered.

​I slammed back into Jess, the re-entry sending a shockwave through both of them. Jess let out a strangled scream of pleasure, her legs locking around my waist as I picked up the pace, turning the scene into a blur of raw, unadulterated power.

​Lana was out of her chair now, standing at the very edge of the light, her face a mask of intense concentration.

Jess's back arched like a bow, her fingers digging into my thighs until her nails drew blood. With a high, shattered cry, she hit her limit—her body spasmed, a rhythmic, uncontrollable shaking that signaled a massive squirt. The liquid soaked the leather of the couch and my own skin as she slumped against me, completely spent.

​"Move," I grunted, and Jess, still dazed, rolled off to the side.

​Sasha didn't wait. She hovered over me, her eyes dark with a desperate, lingering need. She lowered herself slowly, watching me with an intensity that bordered on worship as she took the full length of my cock back inside her. A long, shaky breath escaped her lips, and she leaned down to kiss me—not the frantic, staged kiss from before, but something slow, deep, and dripping with genuine passion.

​I gripped her hips, the curve of her waist fitting perfectly in my palms, and began to drive upward.

​It was a different rhythm than with Jess. This was deeper, more rhythmic, a slow-burn pummeling that had Sasha's head tossing from side to side. Every thrust made the leather of the couch squeak, the sound punctuating her low, melodic moans. I watched the way her muscles rippled under her skin, the way her breasts swayed with every impact. I was hitting her deep, and she was absorbing every inch of me, her internal muscles clenching around me like a vice.

​Then, Jess crawled back into the frame. She didn't go for my mouth or my hands. She dived behind Sasha, her eyes focused on the view of my cock disappearing into Sasha's pussy.

​Jess leaned in, her tongue flicking out to taste Sasha's asshole. She began rimming her with a slow, swirling pressure, her face buried between Sasha's cheeks. While she worked, Jess's hand was a blur of movement between her own legs, rubbing her clit with a frantic speed as she watched us fuck.

​The combination sent Sasha over the edge. Her moans turned into jagged, breathless stabs of sound. "Oh fuck, Hart... Jess... I'm losing it! I can feel both of you!"

​I looked over Sasha's shoulder and saw Lana Grande standing right at the edge of the couch. She was breathless, her expensive silk blouse damp with perspiration, her eyes wide as she watched the triple-threat of stimulation.

I felt the pressure building in the base of my spine, that familiar, electric tension that signaled the end was seconds away. I delivered three more heavy, deep thrusts that made Sasha's entire body shudder, the wet slap of my skin against hers echoing like a gunshot in the silent studio.

​"Out! Get out, Hart! I want the shot!" Lana's voice was a jagged whisper, urgent and hungry.

​I pulled out with a wet pop, my cock thick, pulsing, and slick with their combined heat. I stood over them as they scrambled off the couch, moving with a practiced, desperate grace. They knelt on the plush rug at my feet, their heads tilted back, eyes wide and fixed on me with total adoration. Their mouths were parted, tongues slightly out, smiling in that perfect, naughty anticipation that Lana had demanded.

​I wrapped my hand around my shaft, the skin tight and sensitive. I began to jerk myself with a fast, heavy rhythm. Every stroke brought me closer to the edge. I watched the way the studio lights caught the sweat on their collarbones and the flush on their cheeks.

​Then, it hit.

​The first thick, hot jet arched through the air, splashing across Sasha's cheek and the corner of her mouth. She didn't flinch; she leaned into it, her eyes fluttering shut as the second and third ropes followed in quick succession, coating Jess's chin and dripping down toward her cleavage. I didn't stop, my hand a blur as I painted them, the white cream stark against their bronzed, glowing skin.

​Sasha let out a soft, whimpering moan as a glob landed on her eyelashes, while Jess used her finger to swipe a stray drop from her lip, tasting it with a slow, triumphant flick of her tongue. They looked like high-end statues of debauchery, glistening and broken under the heat of the lamps.

​"Cut!" Lana shouted, though her voice lacked its usual bite. She sounded breathless, drained.

​The studio lights stayed up for a few seconds longer, capturing the aftermath. I stood there, catching my breath, looking down at the two of them. They were still smiling, looking up at me like I was the only man left on earth.

Lana walked over to me, stepping over the girls as if they were furniture. she reached out, her fingers grazing my bare, sweaty shoulder. "That," she murmured, her eyes dark with a new kind of respect, "was a masterpiece, Mr. Hart. I think you and I are going to have a very... productive relationship."

I nodded toward Sasha and Jess, who were already starting to giggle and whisper to each other as they wiped themselves down with silk towels. They looked exhilarated, the adrenaline of the performance still pumping through them.

​Lana stepped into the center of the set, her eyes still lingering on the mess we'd made of the couch with a professional's pride. "You girls did great too," she said, her voice regaining its authoritative clip, though she didn't look away from me. "You should all take ten minutes. Clean up, hydrate. We're shooting part two of the scene after the break."

​"Part two?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought we covered the storyboard."

​Lana gave me a slow, feline smile. "The storyboard was just the appetizer, Hart. For the second act, I want to see how you handle them when the power dynamic shifts. I want to see you work for it."

​She turned on her heel, her sharp bob swaying as she walked over to the monitors to review the footage with Holmes. I watched her go, then turned my attention to the exit. I needed a minute to clear my head and wash the sweat from my skin.

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