I feel like I’m at a banquet filled with starved beasts and none of us can get our fill. I’m feasting on Death, he’s feasting on me, and this primal hunger is driving us forward, lost to total lust and annihilation.
Death’s focus is locked on me, glued to my lips, watching with glazed eyes as he thrusts into my mouth, both pairs of hips moving in near tandem from either end of me. I reach out and grab his muscular ass. He’s so strong, so big, and I dig my nails into him as I start to shake with need.
It’s enough for Death, anyway. He comes into my mouth, pumping into me and down my throat and I drink him down like I’ve been wandering around a desert, parched with thirst.
Then I’m coming again, his Shadow Self perfectly stroking my clit with his fingers, his dick hitting the sweet spot inside me with each rough thrust. A few pumps of his hips later and then he’s coming inside me. I’ve been filled with him at each end.
Even though I’m already on my knees, I nearly fall when his Shadow Self pulls out of me. I push myself up off my elbows, trying to breathe in deep, wanting my heart to slow down. My legs are still shaking. Everything is trembling.
“Lie back,” Death tells me, and gestures to the Shadow Self behind me. “Ride that cock.”
I raise my head to look at him just as Death grabs me by the hair and pulls me roughly to my feet. The pain feels good, wakes me up. Oh, we’re being rough now, are we?
“Feeling a little demanding?” I ask him.
He answers me by gripping me by the back of my neck with his big leather-covered hand and kissing me savagely. I whimper into his mouth, running my nails over his chest, scratching lightly. Even though I just came, I feel heavy between my legs, hot, molten pressure building again. I don’t know how many times and different ways we’re about to fuck, but I have a feeling I won’t tire of this anytime soon. My body is already wanting more.
With an ache between my legs and feverish need clawing through me, I do as Death says. I pull apart from his lips and look behind me. His Shadow Self is lying back on the rugs, waiting for me, dick straight up. Thank God I’m flexible enough for this.
I go over him, reverse cowgirl style, then lie back so that my back is pressed against his chest, my legs spread, knees bent, the tips of my toes touching the floor on either side of his thick waist. I feel him reach down and try to guide his cock into my ass, which makes me freeze.
“Hold on,” I say. “Just hold on a minute here.”
Death looms over me and realizes the error of his ways.
“Give me a second,” he says.
He drops to his knees and starts licking me out. I let out a warped cry, his tongue taking me by surprise and in no time I’m wet as sin and dripping between my thighs and onto his Shadow Self beneath me.
Death then reaches for his other’s cock and starts sliding it over my wetness, again and again, guiding his Shadow Self back and forth, creating the most X-rated porn sounds I have ever heard, only stopping when his cock is slick enough.
He then pushes that cock inside my ass.
I gasp, grateful for the easy slide in, willing myself to relax as he slowly fills me.
This is insane.
Insane!
I have never felt more wonderfully debased or fantastically degraded, as animalistic and caveman human, than I do right now. This is the lushest, most decadent, primal experience I think I’ll ever have. And from the look on Death’s face, the way his features contort with mind-blowing pleasure, I know he’s feeling the same way.
And so with that, I give myself to him, to all versions of him, completely and fully. His Shadow Self grabs me by the waist, bare fingers circling my waist, and pumps me up and down on his cock, while Death hovers over me, guiding his own dick inside my cunt.
HELL!
I’m so fucking full, I can’t breathe. Two cocks inside me at once, but only one husband. One king. One God.
“Fuck me,” I whisper. “Be a savage God.”
With a low growl, Death lets loose.
He fucks me hard, both ways, and I am bracketed between his two large, hard bodies, captured between them, caught between two forms of Death until we are just a writhing mass of indulgence and desire. They both want the same thing. They want me. And I think they want each other.
My tits bounce, two pairs of hands roam my body, bare and gloved, and every inch of my body is touched, my skin feeling too tight and hot, the need to come taking over all of us.