He chanced opening his eyes and saw Bridget was up and trading sloppy kisses with the pizza girl. Sweat covered them both in a shiny coat. The air was thick with the scent of their sex. Bridget's hand roamed up and squeezed the pizza girl's breast, provoking a sexy sigh from the purple haired hottie's mouth. Bridget's other hand was between her legs, toying with her sopping sexuality.
"I want his cock now," Bridget said, breathlessly.
"Wait your turn, bitch," the pizza girl replied and gave her a hard push. Bridget fell against the couch's cushions, her lips puckering and pouting.
Melvin forced his eyes shut again; this was too much for one guy to handle. He tried to visualize pie. Wait, no. That was the food as in apple or pumpkin, but he couldn't get the letters to look right in his head. Instead, he focused on the number, not the food, and mentally watched as big bold numbers began to stretch infinitely through space, one marching behind the other, each keeping in time with the beat of some old Christmas carol. Old King Wence-uh-WHO?
A grunt: "Unnnnnggggghh!" brought Melvin back to reality. He opened his eyes and registered the sight of the pizza girl bucking wildly on top of him, her teeth gnashed, her face red and dripping with sweat. Her pussy was throbbing, spasming around his hard cock. She collapsed off him to side of the couch on the opposite side of Bridget.
"Good Christ, that's sweet," she breathed.