Carnival cunts - part I.

Carnival means one thing above all: the chance to wear a mask and fuck without limits. Tonight I have two of them—blonde party girls barely out of their teens, bodies barely covered by expensive lingerie they clearly bought just to show off. One is already on her knees, the other sliding in beside her, and my cock is being passed from tongue to tongue like a shared secret. Their soft mouths work in perfect rhythm, spit dripping down their chins as each girl tries to outdo the other. Every time the music outside gets louder they moan louder too, the sound of wet sucking mingling with the far-off noise of the streets. No names tonight, just two perfect little mouths fighting for every inch until one of them finally wins and takes me all the way down, throat fluttering, mascara already streaking from the strain. The other leans in to kiss the base, tongue flicking against my skin, both of them flushed and hungry under those ridiculous, beautiful masks.