Backstage with Valery

Valery’s interest in the jukebox fades. Two men sense it. One steps close. His cock meets her lips. She opens. Her tongue circles the head, then she takes him deep. The second man unbuttons. She shifts, gives him the same wet attention, her hand working what her mouth leaves free. The room tightens. She bends over the lacquered wood, dress lifted, panties slipped aside. One slides in from behind, filling her cunt in a single, sure stroke. The other waits at her mouth until she turns, eager again. They trade places, rhythm steady, her moans growing louder. She climbs onto one, straddling his thighs, guiding him back inside. The second presses forward. His cock finds her ass, pushes past the tight ring until both are buried. She rocks between them, cunt and ass stretched full, every thrust met with a sharp gasp and the wet sound of skin meeting skin. She reaches back, spreads herself wider, wanting every inch they give her. The pace builds. Her body shakes. The men hold her between them, driving deep until she comes hard, clenching around both cocks at once.