Ava Stone

Ava’s boyfriend’s idea of a threesome is one-sided bullshit. He calls the shots, brings the girls, and forgets she exists the second fresh pussy walks in. Tonight she’s fuming when her two roommates find her stewing in the living room. They listen. They glance at each other. Then one of them asks why she can’t chase the same itch her own way—with two men who’d actually pay attention to her. Two hard cocks are right here, thick and heavy, jet black and ready to tear that tight pink open. Ava doesn’t think twice. She drops to her knees and swallows the first fat head, spit already shining down the shaft. The second roommate fists her hair and feeds her the rest until her throat flutters and tears streak her mascara. Minutes later she’s on her back, legs spread, one cock punching deep while the other slaps wet against her cheek. They trade off, each man driving into her pussy with long, heavy strokes that slap skin and rattle the coffee table. Every thrust sends a gush of juice down her crack; she moans louder each time the length bottoms out and grinds her cervix. One roommate pulls free, flips her onto all fours, and slams back in so hard her cheek mashes into the cushions. The other angles above her face, cock glistening, feeding it to her in the same brutal rhythm. Ava comes first, squirting around the dick still buried in her, then again when the second one replaces it. They don’t stop until both fat cocks jerk and paint her open mouth, cheeks, and lashes. Thick ropes drip from her chin onto her tits while she keeps her tongue out, catching whatever she can. Two men breathing hard above her, spent and shiny, the living room thick with sweat and sex. Her boyfriend’s threesomes never felt anything like this.