Birthday with porn girls...

Suddenly there was no more space left. The heat intensified and sweat began to cover our bodies. A leg remained stuck to mine, it's true, but didn't move an inch. I could feel my muscles hardening, just like the other one couldn't either. Suddenly, it detached from my right side, stuck to my back instead, and there were no more mysteries left. Imagination was overwhelmed by reality as two muscular legs were supporting me without shame, stuck behind mine like stamps, with the package in the middle, installed like an architect would do, plumb line and all, occupying the line, just hitting the hole. The pantyhose fabric, which is already light in summer, seemed non-existent. I felt it in full splendor, excited and exciting, like a dream support. Firm and somewhat thick pushed forward without hiding, as if trying to tear the fabric apart to get into that place that remained firm, without wanting to move away or leave. The heat increased, now sweat was soaking my entire body, and my brain had no time or desire for anything else but imagining the end of the moment. Incredible, the heat was welcoming and lubricating, the banging on our temples deafening, and the line opening up on its own with each thrust. The discomfort of the trip turned into pleasure, lust, desire that would make the light go out, that the subway stop in the middle of the road, that the trip last so the pleasure wouldn't end - this was my only thought. My brain was pumping sex and nothing else mattered anymore. My left hand slid slowly backwards, struggled between the little space between the stuck legs, and finally managed to grasp the culprit with joy and trembling. It had all been said, the game should continue on another field. He backed off a bit and slightly widened the space. The zipper offered no resistance at all, and the moist and trembling piece wrapped itself in my hand. I could tell it was about to happen, the final explosion was right there. A wet head that no longer had a way to go back. The hand that enveloped and caressed, only waited to feel in its fingers the sticky cum with which they were going to grease. A jerk of the subway seemed to be the signal and the expected liquid painted hands and fingers. The wet pants and the cum sliding down the legs of its owner. I followed for two more seconds and hid my hand as best I could, but I didn't want to prevent my fingers from going to my mouth and my tongue cleaning with ardor that cum that was depositing in my throat. The subway was arriving at its destination, still full, like my mouth. A quick turn made me face the culprit of so much madness, a quick tongue kiss with semen marked the beginning of something that demanded continuation. We went down together. We got out onto the surface together, happy and without guilt.