Parrish and Mason

Ethics? We used to do ethics.

“Two hard black cocks fight for my mouth, though I lick and stretch to reach both. Parrish is the more forceful, and in time it his him that first coats the slippery inside of my head with his cum. It bubbles and gurgles from my lips, and drips from my nose. But he holds me on him, and even when I think he has cum so much that it must leak from my eyeballs he still holds me there, another and then another salty spurt filling my mouth.

“When Mason pushes him aside to fill the hole, he fucks into a whirlpool of cum, and hard as he has been for an hour by this stage he soon shoots himself.

“A different flavour, a different sensation. Thicker on my tongue, slippier in my throat. They draw me up, a hand on each cheek, and kiss me, and I share their cum back into their mouths. And the glint in their eyes as they lick their own dripping sperm between their lips tells me I have done well. And I remember the technique for the next time they fuck me.

“And the time after that.”