Vanity fair

I sat at my vanity in a sheer black bra and stockings, lipstick half-smudged, letting my mind roam. Dorina walked in wearing a white lace set that barely covered anything. I pulled her in by the waist and kissed her hard, tongue first, tasting the cherry gloss she had just applied. She answered with a low moan and slid her hand straight down the front of my panties, fingers finding how wet I already was. We stayed locked like that, legs tangled, until the pressure built too tight to stay standing. She eased me onto the edge of the vanity and spread my knees. One fingertip traced my slit, slow, deliberate, before she pushed two inside. My hips rolled to meet each thrust while her free hand tugged the bra down so my nipples brushed the cool marble top. Dorina leaned in to lick them, slow circles that made my skin tighten and ache. Then the door opened again. Two men entered, already hard, already naked from the waist down. One of them stepped behind her, and the other moved straight to me. He slid his cock across my tongue while Dorina stayed between my legs, never breaking rhythm. Spit ran down my chin, and I felt her smile against my stomach when the second man pressed into her from behind. The mirror reflected everything: her pale skin, my open mouth, two bodies using two mouths, two cunts. Dorina pulled me down to the carpet so she could straddle my face while the first man positioned himself behind me. He pressed the head of his cock to my entrance, waited half a beat, then drove in. Dorina’s thighs tightened around my ears as she ground down against my tongue. The second man knelt behind her, lined up, and eased into her ass. For a moment the room held only the sound of skin meeting skin. Dorina’s voice broke first, a long, low whimper that turned into my name. I came with my mouth full of her, the man behind me gripping my hips hard enough to leave prints. She reached back, caught his wrist, and pulled him deeper into her. I felt every pulse of his release flood into me, and Dorina followed seconds later, thighs shaking, cunt fluttering against my tongue. When we finally stilled, the mirror showed flushed faces and tangled limbs, the vanity covered in smeared lipstick and sweat. Neither of us moved right away. We just watched our own reflection breathe.