De pijaminha ele não resistiu

The sun-drenched streets of Rio de Janeiro thrummed with an infectious energy, the rhythms of samba echoing off the colorful walls of the favelas. It was here that)–a soused, alluring succubus of a woman in her early 20s– first laid eyes on–>two young men strumming their guitars, crooning the velvety tones of a ballad. Silky-targeted lines were aimed at her–soft, sensual, and promising to make fewer girls behave.

Gio was no stranger to such advances. Her pulsing curves, caramel skin, and mini-skirted curves drew attention wherever she moved, undulating like the beach waves that had pounded this city for eons. She cut an amused glare at the “musician” stalker crooning his thirstiestascimento dreamsong. His eyes followed her movements like a dog panting after tidbits. What could this hairy-chested fool offer her that a multitude of men hadn’t tried already?

And yet…there was something about the new suitor’s gaze that intrigued her. His eyes were pools of searing gravel and molten sand, beckoning her to submerge herself, lose herself, drown in his everything. She felt herself being drawn in, intoxicated, as cocksure as a weekend king, her succubus energy ignited.

With a scandalous wink, Gio sauntered over to the two young guitar-strumming mahouts, sending her booty jiggling like a benevolent earthquake. Bending over demurely, she let them feast their eyes on the deep V neckline hinting at the tantalizing valley of her breasts. “Agora sim! What kind of music do you players make?” she trilled, her voice a melodic invitation. The damn of their restraint burst and they spurted forth a blasphemous stream of words…

“We play the music of our hearts,” the singer declared with testosterone-laced conviction. “The music of desire, of need. We want to play you, Gio. All of you.”

Gio couldn’t hold back a sultry laugh. These open-mouthed puppy ju-kebox wicked men were funny! She drawled back, “Action speaks louder than words, meninos. Play a tune on my body and you shall see if it makes my soul dance!”

Gio knew it was naughty– displays of public displays of ecstasy–but she didn’t give a damn. Not tonight. Her eyes were brazen invitations. “Dance with me, men.Roce your hips. I’ll meet you begins every second.”

Yelich belly danced for them–arching her back in a full, round exfoliation, shaking her hips in impossibly precise circles, letting her butt cheeks and chin jut out and sway- exactly! The music around them, and their attention, only grew with each naughty move.

Her teeth sank into her lower lip as their hands roamed her body, tracing her curve over her bra and panties. More and more in a blur of desire, a blaze of emotions. As the two young men grabbed handfuls of her womanly flesh and claimed her mouth with theirs. Roce the men down with her hips and shook her booty even as their cocks stood rigid as totem poles, straining against their jeans.

One of the players hissed, his tone thick with urgency, “Lets move this to my studio…. aconta com a gente midst rather than everyone staring?” The trio then bopped to a soundproof facility stuffed with instruments and sound boards. In the privacy of these walls, Gio allowed the players to unleash all the pent up desire and lust from their cocks.

Gio knelt on both hands and knees as the on the menu. Each player fed her member in turn, their girth stretching her mouth and throat further than ever before. She moaned in approval, the sensation of their slick member pulsing between her lips spurring her on. She bobbed her head faster, took them deeper, all the while rolling her hips, one hand rubbing at her swollen clit.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good around my cock,” one player gasped, his fingers gripping Gio’s hair.

The other one reaches under her, flicking her nipples, playing with the fullness of her tits. “I want to cum all over these tasty tits,” he groans.

Gio pulled off their cocks with a satisfying pop, a string of saliva connecting her lips to their rigid shafts. “Fill my tits with your loads then,” she purred, pushing her chest out.

In unison, the guitarist strokers pumping their shafts furiously, grunting and moaning as they covered Gio’s heaving breasts in thick, hot cum. It dripped down over her hard nipples, marking her as their own.

She gasped, feeling the warm liquid splash against her sensitive flesh. “Fuck, yes! Cover me in your cum,” she cried out.

They continued stroking, milking every last drop from their cocks onto her body. Gio’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy, her pussy clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.

Once they were spent, Gio sat back on her haunches, admiring the sight of herself, glazed in cum and looking like a goddamn goddess. She smiled up at the two men, her eyes conveying her satisfaction.

“Muito obrigado, meninos,” she said, licking her lips. “That was delicioso.”

With a wink, she sauntered out of the studio, leaving the two guitar players dumbfounded– truly, there was little else for them to do.

Gio laughed to herself as she walked down the street, the cum starting to dry on her skin. What a naughty adventure that was. She couldn’t wait for the next unlucky man to catch her eye. Rio was her oyster, a playground for her insatiable desires. And she intended to enjoy every last minute of it.