Page 16 of To Die For

My eyes widen. White Mask just stares, his dirty mask unreadable. Then, he gives a single, sharp nod. “Deal.”

They’re bargaining over me like I’m a toy.

The thought should horrify me. It doesn’t. It sends a fresh, hot gush of arousal slicking my inner thighs.

I am a toy. Their toy.

“You heard him, Lila,” Burlap Sack rasps, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling my head up. “On your knees, but stay just like that. I want that perfect ass in the air while you work.”

I shift, my knees grinding into the dirt, my upper body rising. The pose is impossibly lewd, my back arched, my rear end lifted and exposed, my face now level with their cocks.

White Mask steps forward, unbuckling his jeans with a swift, practiced motion. He frees his hard length, and it stands proud, longer than Burlap’s, the head swollen and wet.

The two of them flank me, their heat radiating onto my skin. “Open up, Lila,” White Mask orders, his voice a dark caress. He taps his cock against my lips. “Get that pretty mouth ready for me.”

I part my lips, and he pushes the head inside. The taste of him is clean, musky, purely male. I swirl my tongue around the tip, and he groans, his hand cupping the back of my head. “Fuck yes, just like that. Such a good fucking mouth.”

Before I can take more of him, Burlap Sack grabs my chin, turning my face toward him. “My turn, slut. Don’t forget who’s here.” He shoves his thick cock past my lips, and I gag instantly, my jaw straining to accommodate his girth.

He doesn’t care. He holds himself there, his hips pressed against my cheek, his length dominating my throat.

I can’t breathe. I can only take it.

White Mask isn’t having it. He pulls my head back by my hair, freeing my mouth with a wet sound. “I said me first.” He guides himself back to my lips. “Suck it, Lila. Get it nice and wet for your pussy later.”

I dive onto him, taking as much of his length as I can, hollowing my cheeks, wanting to please him, to prove I can take it. The salty-sweet pre-cum leaks onto my tongue.

I suck harder, my world narrowing to the feel of his cock sliding over my tongue, the sound of his ragged breathing.

Burlap Sack slaps his cock against my cheek, leaving a wet trail. “I’m not getting fucking ignored.” He pushes the headagainst the corner of my mouth, demanding entry. My eyes dart between them, a frantic, dizzying mess of sensation.

“Both,” White Mask grunts, his fingers tangling in my hair tighter. “You think you can’t handle it? Take us both, you greedy little fucktoy. Show us what that mouth is for.”

He guides his cock back into my mouth while Burlap Sack presses his against my lips. For a second, it’s impossible.

Then my jaw gives, stretching wider than I thought possible, and the two broad heads push in together, side-by-side, stretching my lips into an obscene, straining circle.

A garbled moan vibrates in my throat. The feeling is insane, an overwhelming fullness that borders on pain, but the filthy rightness of it is what wrecks me.

I’m pinned between them, their hands on my head, my body on display, servicing two cocks at once. Saliva drips freely down my chin and onto my chest. “Look at that,” Burlap Sack growls, his voice thick with lust. “Her fucking lips are stretched white around us. Can you feel me, pretty boy? Feel my cock next to yours in this tight, hot fucking mouth?”

“I feel you,” White Mask grunts, his hips giving a shallow thrust. “I feel her throat milking me. Fuck, Lila, your mouth is a goddamn masterpiece.”

They start a ragged, uncoordinated rhythm, one pushing in as the other pulls back. It’s a clumsy, animalistic fuck of my face, and I am just a toy for their pleasure.

My eyes water, my throat convulses, but a deep, primal part of me is singing.

This is what I wanted. This complete and total use.

I bring my hands up, one wrapping around the base of White Mask’s shaft, the other around Burlap Sack’s. I stroke what I can’t take into my mouth, my fingers slick with spit.

White Mask curses, a raw, filthy string of words. Burlap Sack just growls, an animal sound of pure pleasure, his thrusts becoming more frantic.

From the corner of my watery vision, I see Black Mask. He’s pushed himself up onto his elbows, watching us. Watching me. His featureless mask is turned in our direction, and one hand is slowly, rhythmically stroking his own hard cock.

He’s just watching, but his presence is its own kind of possession. I am the show. His prize, being used, and he’s enjoying the fucking view.

The thought makes me clench around nothing, a desperate, empty ache between my legs. I moan around the two cocks filling my mouth, the sound a desperate plea.