Seven Nights of Sin - Lacey Alexander [95]
With the guidance of Anthony’s hands, she moved onto the divan, on her hands and knees, assuming the same position as the blonde who’d knelt here upon their arrival, the blonde who’d first begun to inspire her to desire such reckless sex.
Like the blonde before her, she boldly thrust her ass into the air, arching her back, and she gazed up at Damon as he let his own toga hit the floor. Her eyes then dropped to his tremendous cock, standing at full attention, looking so stiff and ready that she couldn’t wait to feast on it. “Put it in my mouth,” she said, peering back up into his dark eyes. She’d glimpsed Anthony rolling on a condom behind her.
She should be terrified. Freaking out. But she simply wasn’t. The things she’d seen here tonight had freed her and, for this night only, her desire truly knew no bounds.
As Damon positioned his cock at her lips, she parted them and let him slide inside. He filled the recesses of her mouth, slow, deep, and she enjoyed all the eyes studying her in such an obscene state.
And as he began to move in and out, as she matched his rhythm, Anthony’s hands closed back on her ass and his shaft nudged at her moist opening.
Again, part of her wanted to be repulsed, feel used and abused, feel like she’d made a horrible mistake. But she didn’t feel any of those things. What she felt was ready. Ready to be fucked by two big, hard cocks. Ready to show the world—or at least the other people who’d come here tonight—how hungry she was, how naughty, how dirty.
When Anthony entered her, she groaned around Damon’s cock. Oh God, she’d never felt so very filled. And she suddenly understood the blonde’s joy from before. As Anthony plunged into her from behind, Damon fed her his cock from the front, both men making her feel more thoroughly fucked than she could have imagined possible.
They moved together that way, her lust growing, heat building, even as the sensation of having two large shafts inside her threatened to overwhelm her. She responded by fucking Anthony harder, sucking Damon more energetically. She gave it all she had, wanting to soak up every nuance of this moment, wanting to feel everything there was to feel.
Anthony drove into her with still more power, until she was forced to release Damon’s cock in order to cry out as the strokes pummeled her. But she peered up into Damon’s eyes the whole time, through every hard thrust from the man behind her, and—oh God—it was almost as if Damon were in front of her and behind her at once, because if felt far more like fucking Damon than fucking someone else.
“So good, babe,” he whispered. “You’re doing so fucking good.” And she loved that he was as into this as she was, watching another guy do her as she gazed into his eyes.
But then Anthony eased off, going still, and used his hands to shift her position, reminding her—this was a show for the other patrons and she’d agreed to follow his lead even as he’d promised to keep things fairly simple.
Behind her, Anthony leaned back, resting on his knees on the divan, and he took Brenna with him, situating them both in an upright position, his cock still jutting up into her cunt. Oh—she felt it deeper this way, putting her weight on him. Her legs were parted, spread so that her calves stretched out on both sides of his, and he reached down, between her thighs, using the fingertips of both hands to spread the front of her pussy, as well.
Damon’s eyes dropped briefly to her freshly shaved flesh, then rose to hers. He’d been standing at one end of the ornate divan, but now climbed up onto the upholstered bench on his knees, moving closer, closer, until his stiffened cock pressed directly between her breasts.
She sucked in her breath as Anthony’s hands came around, pushing the two mounds of soft flesh around Damon’s rock-hard length. She sighed with the pleasure it brought—pleasure she’d never before contemplated. And pleasure that grew still more intense