I called the boys

Ionella is home alone today and the quiet has her restless. Horny, the kind of horny that settles low and stays. She picks up the phone and calls her two favorites. They drop everything, same as always. Within minutes Jamaica walks through the door, followed by Leslie, both already hard at the thought of her waiting. She meets them in nothing but a smile, blonde hair loose down her back, leading them straight to the bedroom. Clothes come off fast. Jamaica fills her mouth first, thick and dark against her tongue. Leslie moves behind her, fingers spreading her ass, pressing inside. She sucks Jamaica deeper while Leslie works her open, slow at first, then firmer. Jamaica pulls out just long enough for her to catch her breath before feeding her cock back in. Leslie lines up and pushes into her ass, sliding deep until his hips meet her cheeks. The stretch pulls a moan from her throat around Jamaica’s length. They find a rhythm, one cock buried in her mouth while the other pounds her from behind, each thrust rocking her forward onto the next. Jamaica’s hand holds the back of her head steady. Leslie grips her hips tight, driving into her without pause. Her moans grow wetter around the cock in her mouth. When Jamaica pulls free again she gasps, spit trailing from her lips, then opens wide once more. Leslie pulls out of her ass only to push back in harder, the slap of skin sharp in the room. She reaches back to spread herself for him, taking every inch. Jamaica strokes himself while she catches her breath, then slides back between her lips. The room fills with the sound of her choking lightly around him, of Leslie’s thrusts growing faster, of skin meeting skin. When Leslie pulls out again she stays on her knees, mouth open. Jamaica finishes first, thick ropes landing across her tongue and cheek. Leslie follows, painting the rest of her face until cum drips from her chin onto her breasts. She swallows what she can, licks the rest from her lips, eyes half-lidded and satisfied.