EURO ANAL FISTING – beautiful French Anal Bitches, lingerie, costume with Cecilia Vega and Megane 1

Title: “Lingerie and Lows: A Déclassé Euro Anal Fisting Affair”

The sultry, sun-soaked streets of the Rue de Rivoli served as the perfect backdrop for our little soirée à trois. I had called upon the luscious bitches Cecilia Vega and Megane to indulge in a certain type of carnélien Zijn that, shall we say, was not for the faint of heart or prim of constitution.

As our illicit hour of rendezvous drew nigh, I made my way to the quaint apartement just off La Rue des Martyrs. Dressed in my finest Bloomsbury suit, I rang the bell, anticipation coursing through my veins like absinthe. The door creaked open, and there stood Cecilia, her voluptuous form draped in a delicate negligé of black lace and Goes. Her cleavage strained against the gossamer fabric, begging to be unleashed upon the world.

“Bonsoir, mon cher,” she purred, ushering me inside with a sway of her hips that could make the angels weep. “Megane is still preparing. Why don’t you make yourself… comfortable?”

I settled into a plush velvet armchair, my eyes never leaving Cecilia’s swaying derrier[è. She sauntered over to the sideboard and poured two glasses of pastis. The amber liquid sloshed against the crystal, a tantalizing echo of the delights to come.

As I sipped my drink, Megane emerged from the shadows, her lithe figure poured into a form-fitting corset and garters. The stiff leather of her stilettos clicked against the parquet floor, a staccato accompaniment to the pounding of my heart. She traced a perfectly manicured nail along my jawline, her lips curling into a sinful smile.

“Ready to play, chéri?” she whispered, her hot breath tickling my ear. I could only nod dumbly, my mind awhirl with the carnal possibilities that lay before me.

Cecilia sauntered over, her negligé gone, replaced by a scandalous costume comprised of little more than gold lamè and sequins. It left precious little to the imagination, and what it did conceal, it teased with merciless precision. She rattled a bottle of champagne, its contents chilling in a silver ice bucket.

“You’ve got yourself a pair of Euro bitches, lover boy,” she husked, uncorking the bottle with a flourish. Bubbles erupted, spraying across the room like liquid sparks. “Now, let’s see just how much we can make you… pop.”

Megane pushed me back into the armchair, her fingers deftly unbuttoning my trousers. I watched, mesmerized, as she retrieved a bottle of guilt-ridden oil from her corset. With a wicked grin, she drizzled the slick liquid over Cecilia’s gyrating rump.

“Hmmm, I do love a good European spectacle,” I remarked, my voice strained. “Let’s see if you two can make me coo like a pigeon, mes chattes.”

Cecilia positioned herself over my lap, her glistening backside presented like a sacrifice. Megane rubbed the oil into Cecilia’s tight, puckered hole, her fingers disappearing inch by tantalizing inch. Cecilia shuddered, her body quivering under the onslaught of sensation.

With a wet pop, Megane withdrew her digits. Cecilia turned her head, her eyes glazed with lust. “Now, pet, it’s time for le học bourg,” she rasped. “Are you ready to fóît trois troussed?”

I licked my lips, nodding eagerly. Megane reached for a dildo, large enough to make a grown man weep. She hefted it, giving it a few perfunctory pumps before plunging it into Cecilia’s awaiting orifice. The girl cried out, her body rocked by the sudden intrusion.

Megane fucked her with a ruthless zeal, the dildo disappearing into Cecilia’s depths with lewd squelches. I could do nothing but watch, my own arousal straining against my trousers. Cecilia’s eyes rolled back in her head, drool coursing down her chin as she moaned in ecstasy.

With a final, brutal thrust, Megane hilted the dildo, leaving it buried to the hilt in Cecilia’s spasming depths. The girl shrieked, her body shaking like a felled tree. Megane maintained a vise-like grip on the dildo, keeping it firmly in place as Cecilia bucked and writhed. The obscene wet sounds of the fisting echoed through the room, a lewd symphony of carnal depravity.

As Cecilia came down from her high, Megane released the dildo, allowing it to tumble from Cecilia’s abused hole with a wet plop. The girl collapsed against me, her body drenched in sweat and oil. She panted, her eyes glazed with post-orgasmic bliss.

I looked up at Megane, my own arousal a throbbing, insistent ache. She smiled, retrieving a second, even larger dildo from her corset. “Your turn, mon cher,” she purred, her eyes glittering with mischief.

I gulped, suddenly feeling very small and very fragile. But one does not back down from a challenge, especially not one as deliciously depraved as this.

“Ladies first,” I quipped, bracing myself for the onslaught to come. The night was still young, and the bitches had a hunger that would not be denied.

And so, my dear reader, I leave you with the image of myself, sprawled naked and supine across a velvet chaise, my ass upturned and glistening with oil. Megane looms over me, a gleaming dildo poised at the entrance to my most sacred of spaces. Cecilia watches, her eyes alight with anticipation, ready to witness the full scope of my debasement.

One can only imagine what delights (or horrors) await…