“Fuck, that feels so good,” I murmur with a that familiar tightness in my lower stomach, my head falling back.
“Whore,” Moros rasps into my hole and strokes me faster. “Likes to be watched. Wilson?”
The man standing next to us snaps his gaze up, his cock fully out now and in his palm.
“Yeah, boss?”
“Suck his little prick would you?”
I’ve never seen such a burly man drop to his knees so fast.
Oh, fuck.
Is this really happening?
I thought this only happened in dreams?
As if to prove it for me, Moros pinches my head and releases me as Wilson curls his big body closer, his breath fanning over my wet tip.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.
“Okay?” he asks me just before his lips connect with my cock, but I can’t focus on what he means with Moros’s tongue stuffing me full. Fucking in and out of me. Lapping every last bit of his cum from inside me.
I nod anyway, my eyes rolling back.
I don’t get to watch as I’m surrounded by soft, wet heat, my erection swallowed nearly whole.
“Oh shitfuckkkk,” I cry out, my back arching up off the bedding.
It’s then that Moros’s tongue is replaced by something thick and long and I don’t get a chance to warn Wilson when something touches my prostate. I just explode between his lips, and he greedily sucks down my cum.
They’re still moving around me when I come back down and open my eyes to Moros back between my legs, his length buried inside me once again.
“Wilson,” he grunts out, red lips parted as he rides out his orgasm. “Open your slutty fucking mouth.”
The thicker man seems to shudder as he pops off my cock and hangs his jaw wide open so Moros can slip from inside me and jack into him.
He roars his pleasure, and Wilson doesn’t waste a single drop that strikes his chin and cheek.
Swallowing hardily and licking his lips, Wilson knee walks closer to my side, his fist pumping his cock.
He comes on me, his release mixing with mine, and I gasp at the heat of it.
“Holy fuck,” I breathe with a fuzzy head, balls thrumming, and my hole aching. “Is this why it’s off limits out here?”
“No.” Wilson chuckles, the thud of him hitting the bedding next to me accompanying the sound. “The pile of bodies is why.”
“Oh,” I answer dazedly, my lips smacking against the sudden dryness of them.
“You okay?” Wilson asks lightly despite how raspy his voice is, and I sigh.
“Can’t feel my legs.”
He snorts, and the faint feather-light touch of something swipes across my chest. It almost feelswet. But my head is too heavy to lift and check.
I barely crack an eye open, my vision filled with Wilson haloed by sunlight, and it makes my smile lopsided.
“You’re pretty,” I murmur and poke at his crooked nose.
