Page 19 of Cuervo's Carnival
Lola continues to grind herself on me, when she lowers herself to my neck. In a sexy whimper, she says, “You better hurry up, Pax. I don’t know how much longer he is going to last.”
Just as she finishes speaking, I hear Pax gather the saliva in his mouth before expelling it to my opening. He coats me with his warm spit, working me in tandem with Lola, who keeps pace on my dick.
I let out a moan, gripping Lola’s curvy hips, waiting for Pax to guide his thick cock into me.
“He’s more than ready for you, Pax,” she whispers in my ear, instructing him to enter me.
Pax lets out a groan as he continues to slowly stretch me with his wet fingers. “That’s it,” Pax begins, sinking his fingers further in me, “you ready for me Cil?” he breathes.
“Fuck, yes” I respond to him just as Lola bounces faster on top of me.
Keeping a hand on my hole, I hear him drop a wad of spit to his cock that bulges against my spread thigh. Swiftly, he replaces the finger he has used to ready me with the head of his pierced cock. I feel a drip of precum spill from the tip as he uses it as an extra lubricant for my opening.
He lets out a grunt that drives me fucking wild, so primal and seductive, as he stretches me to accommodate his hardened length.
He continues working my hole, and his impressive girth enters me inch by inch.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he pants, squeezing my thighs that he has hoisted against his forearms.
“You do, too,” I say, surrendering my body to the rapture of their bodies on and in me.
Lola keeps her mouth near my ear the whole time so that every pant, moan, and whimper works its way past my eardrum and sears itself inside me, only adding to the ecstasy of this moment.
There is something that happens every time our bodies connect. It doesn’t matter the position or location or how we do it, but in these moments, when our flesh thrashes against one another, something raw and beautiful unfolds. It’s in these moments, these passionate, out of fucking body experience-type moments, that our vulnerabilities vanish and are replaced with desire instead. Desire so strong, so deep, so fucking pure, that every time feels like a full-body high.
Feeling my release build with Lola’s wet walls grinding on top of me while Paxton is still inside of me, keeping pace, I reach for the two braids that have been brushing against my face with each thrust. Quickly, I cross the two sections of hair before tossing them back in Paxton’s direction. Even in the dark, he immediately finds her onyx reins and yanks back on them, causing her to gasp.
I squeeze her ass before slapping it. “Keep going, both of you,” I plea. The full feeling I have is starting to make me see fucking stars, even in the darkness that coats the air.
With each thrust Paxton lays into me, I hear Lola’s gasping increase. Envy swarms for a second, knowing I gave him the handlebars to choke her with while he fucks me. But hearing her body react to the sensation of being choked by her own hair while riding me makes up for it.
“That’s ourdiosa,” I praise her, feeling my release coming. “Fuck!” I yell, feeling the ripples of my orgasm begin to take over my body. I squeeze Lola’s hips as her walls pulse around my cock. We finish together, and the feeling of Paxton still pounding into me as I spill my release into Lola’s pulsing slit only heightens my orgasm.
Lola remains on my cock, while Paxton thrusts inside of me, his grip firmly clasped around the braids that form a collar around her neck.
I can tell he is close when Lola lets out a moan. As he yanks the braid twisted around her neck one more time, his warm release fills me before it leaks out onto my thigh.
“Fuck,” he yells out, slowly retracting his cock from me.
“Yea, you are fucking telling me,” I add as Lola follows his lead, removing her pussy that drips from our combined arousal.
In satisfied silence, the three of us reach for our clothes. Although, it feels kind of pointless putting them back on, because knowing us, this tryst was merely a warmup. That, and it is fucking hot out. Since no one is here but us, who cares if we are naked?
“Finish getting dressed,” Paxton chirps as if he could read my mind.
“Alright, but I’m not making any promises that I’ll keep my clothes on,” I joke.
I hear his husky chuckle, which echoes against the curved walls of the tunnel. “I’m okay with that,” he teases.
We finish getting dressed, making our way out of the tunnel, hands laced with one another’s, when Lola stops our connected stride.
“What is it?” we ask in unison.
“I’m telling you, someone is knocking on the other side of the tunnel,” she insists. Except, this time, she doesn’t need reassurances. She breaks free from our hands, darting forward.
My eyes narrow, noticing a slim pocket of light appear a few feet from where we are now chasing after her.
“Lo, wait up!” we shout, but our calls for her only increase the momentum she uses to get out of the tunnel.
