Shameless Masqurade

Sandy and Puma wore expensive masks and nothing else. They pressed together on the velvet couch, mouths open, hands exploring skin. Sandy’s tongue traced the curve of Puma’s inner thigh. Puma gripped her hair and whispered something filthy. The air grew heavy with need. Then the maid stepped through the doorway, vacuum in hand. For a moment the three women stared at each other. The dildo lay slick on the cushion between Sandy’s thighs. The maid’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t back away. Puma smiled and crooked a finger. "Come here." The maid set the vacuum down. She walked forward on shaking legs, her uniform dress brushing her knees. Sandy rose to meet her, peeled off the apron, unbuttoned the blouse. Puma reached behind the maid and found the zipper, sliding it lower. The white cotton fell, catching for a second on hard nipples. Three bodies moved to the couch. Sandy kissed the maid first, slow and deep. Puma knelt between the girl’s open knees and pulled the panties aside. Her tongue flicked once, light as a promise, then settled in with steady rhythm. The maid moaned against Sandy’s mouth. Her hand found Puma’s hair, holding her close. Sandy pushed two fingers between the maid’s lips and let her suck them. Then she guided the maid onto her back and straddled her face. Puma climbed over the maid’s hips and lined up the strap-on. The first thrust earned a muffled cry that vibrated against Sandy’s cunt. They moved together, careful and then rougher. Skin slapped skin. Sweat gathered in the hollows of collarbones and ran between breasts. Puma’s masked eyes watched Sandy ride the maid’s tongue. She reached up and pinched a nipple, twisted, earned another desperate whimper. The maid came first, thighs shaking against Puma’s hips, mouth still working Sandy. Sandy followed, grinding down harder. Puma kept thrusting until both women above her trembled from overstimulation. Only then did she ease out, the toy gleaming, and press her own face to the maid’s soaked pussy, tasting the mess she had made. Masks stayed on. No names were spoken. Only low, satisfied breathing and the quiet creak of the couch as the three of them slid into a sweaty tangle of limbs.