Mia’s round, overly inviting ass strains the crescent moon shaped edges of her thin white panties, so tight and plump it makes him irrationally, irritatingly horny. Tyson yanks them down her cinnamon brown hips for all the good they're doing. Seeing the slightest jiggle, the subtle bounce of her firm curves erases the memory of all before her.

He growls and captures her split peach with his mouth, her nectar superior and refreshing; the only thing in his life that makes sense. She gasps, five polished fingers curling around the back of his head to further draw him in.

Mia’s substantial bones soften when saturated with arousal so intense she’s getting high on it. Stoned off his touch. Blisteringly inebriated by his tongue. She folds forward, hands and knees on the dark leather ottoman in Tyson’s inner city apartment, twelve stories up.

More than want, more than need, their progression is as automatic as breathing, as necessary as air. His tongue is so far in her it makes her center quiver, establishing its dominance and conquering her sex, his eyes pierced to her smooth back as it arches for him. The essence of her figure is everything every renaissance artist ever tried to capture. Her beauty could not be imitated.

Tyson bites into her left cheek like an apple, his two fingers being drawn in by Mia’s scorching, swollen insides, earning a gasp so heady it nearly makes him guilty: A woman as cherubic and Mia lusting in result of his sinful touch is as wrong as it is right. He kisses up to her bare shoulder, hand slowly, roughly thrusting her from behind. When he bites her neck, pushing her dark, heavy hair to one side, she moans. Instantly, he comes undone, the fly on his pants following suit.

On a lax stance, Tyson lines the soft wide spear of his head with Mia’s visibly wet pussy. The shock of entering her starts at the slit of his tip and crawls up his shaft as he sinks, spreading in his stomach and out to his limbs like a viscous substance. A genital adrenaline rush. Mia feels it too, an orgy of nerves taking over as his weight fills her.

Hand pressing on her ass as if to calm an unsteady animal, Tyson’s opposite wraps her long hair in its grasp, and he rides her, hips imitating the motion flawlessly. Mia bucks beneath him.

The words that leave his mouth are raw and filthy and full of love, and she is addicted, falling in transcendental euphoria, cradled by his devotion. Their every thrust is cherished, fierce and gentle and every sensation they have no name for. The electric metropolis outside the window is unconcerning, the cars below ignorant. Would any passersby detect their intensity imbuing the air? Wonder of all the lovers in the world that are surely joined in this very moment, including them? Glance curious toward the tall window to the gently lit room and sense that Tyson is deep inside Mia, fucking her so completely?

Lost in their connection, for the first time, Mia opens her eyes. Via their unfailing affinity, Tyson slows at precisely the same moment, the same scene capturing his attention.

The glass of the window. Across the bustling road to the adjacent building’s parallel window. And on the other side of that, two people. Staring at them.

Mia meets the eyes of the naked beauty astride her lover’s bare lap as she, herself, is arched like a stretching cat with Tyson firmly planted inside her. Not one of the four of them could tell you how long they exchanged gazes, shock immobilizing their collective cognitive function. Neither could one of them tell you who smiled first.

As automatic and breathing, as necessary as air, they each begin where they left off.

Tyson and Mia’s moment evolves to include the couple across the way, the exquisite blonde girl and her grinning partner simultaneously resuming their rhythm. Up and down, she rides him generously as he sits on a couch, their eyes on Tyson and the way he’s mounted to Mia’s perfect ass.

The audacious synchronism with their neighbors is amplified by the unfamiliar element. They each wonder in turn, curious arousal constantly exchanging between four pairs of eyes. Tyson imagines he can hear the blonde breathing, the sight of her slackened jaw arousing Mia just as much. Mia watches the way the man’s large hands hold her tiny waist, fucking up into the blonde’s petite body, her swaying tits begging attention.

Riding a wavelength stratosphere worthy, they increase their tempo unanimously and without cue.

Harder and deeper, fast and eager, Tyson fucks Mia as the blonde fucks her mate, each individual face sharing the same expression of unashamed pleasure. They rise together, each couple watching the other on an unintended stage, less theater than porn, more stimulating than if it'd been planned.

An abrupt and unquestionable fact becomes obvious, inevitable. Whatever drew them together won’t let go until each of them do. 

Mia moans aloud as Tyson’s cock pumps butterflies into her, the other girl’s light brow pinching in response. They climb higher, the boys’ pace increasing in anticipation. Tyson feels his balls tighten threateningly, and he knows he isn’t alone in this, the way the man’s fingers dig into the beautiful blonde's ass.

And their carelessness doesn’t matter. And the unexplained reason behind their fervor doesn’t matter. Neither of them wants anything but this, and when fate’s devious intentions crest, they all four lose themselves in incomprehensible pleasure.