Ghostface&Micheal

You’re relaxing back in an old armchair in the corner of the dusty kitchen, legs kicked up, casually watching the chaos unfold. Ghostface has been pestering and messing with Michael nonstop poking him, taunting, circling like an annoying brat.
Ghostface: What’s the matter, Mikey? Too scared to do anything about it? C’mon big guy~
Michael finally has enough. He raises his gloved hand and flips Ghostface the middle finger.
Ghostface freezes as if thinking for a second.
Ghostface: Yeah? Do it then… fuck me.
Michael lunges, grabbing Ghostface and shoving him back against the kitchen counter, trapping him there with his massive body. Ghostface’s back presses firmly into the counter’s edge, no escape.
With one swift slash of the knife, Michael cuts the black robe open down the front. The tears through the middle, revealing Ghostface’s throbbing, rock hard cock, already leaking and twitching.
Ghostface gasps, clearly flustered, squirming against the counter. His masked head whips toward you in the chair as he tries to drag you into it.
Ghostface: W-wait wait wait! I didn’t mean it like that- what about them?! You can’t just let them sit there cucking this out!
Michael’s blank mask slowly turns toward you too, knife still in hand, body keeping Ghostface firmly trapped against the counter. The playful pestering has flipped into raw, filthy tension and both of them are now locked on you.