Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Finally. Fuck. It feels so good. I want to announce my happiness to the room, but I keep quiet, not wanting to push my luck.
The men have been silent until now, but as one of them fucks me — who? — the others encourage him. “That’s it. Fuck her hard.” It was Shane who spoke. Other voices overlap, making it hard for me to tell who’s saying what. “Yeah, fuck that pussy.” “Make her scream.”
The cock feels so good, and is fucking me so well, but I just need a little more, just a few rubs on my clit. I wish I could do it myself, but my wrists are still tied to the bed.
Whoever’s fucking me stiffens inside me and then starts to release. I wish I could see their face and watch them come, but without that option, I’m laser-focused on every sensation, every throb, every quiver, every touch.
When they’re done, they pull out and another hard cock immediately takes their place. The men are going to take turns. I’m their little fuck toy and they’re all going to use me. This wasn’t in the story either, but it’s doing things for me. They’re all going to use me for their pleasure, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I should be able to tell who’s inside me, but from this position, it’s impossible to know. When I’m alone with them, they each have their own unique styles, but this is cold and impersonal. Again, the other men encourage their friend. He fucks me rough and fast, and I love it so much, even as my frustration builds to epic levels.
After the second man is spent, the third one slides in. His hand wraps around my center and I tilt my hips, silently begging him for the touch I need. Mercifully, his fingers dip between my legs, find my clit, and squeeze as his cock pistons in and out of me.
The others are watching — I hear them and I see them in my head — and I’m such a dirty girl, being used like this while the others see it all.
I think it’s Devin who’s taking me now. He’s closer than the others have been, and I can smell his skin. He strums his thumb over my clit and finally, finally, I come.
I come so hard I see fireworks behind my eyelids. I explode into nothingness and exist there for several, beautiful long moments before I start to return to earth.
Devin’s deep inside me, making short, quick thrusts with his hips, hitting a spot — oh, fuck, I shoot off again — so much built-up energy to release. Oh my god, it feels so unbelievably good.
As I’m soaring through space, Devin starts to come at the same time, and I could nearly cry from the intensity of it all.
Before I’m even through my aftershocks, Devin’s out and the fourth man pushes into my swollen pussy. He fucks me like a man possessed, racing to his pleasure while I’m still lost in the middle of mine. He lasts a long time, though, pumping into me deep and steady, as I sink into the bed, barely able to keep my hips in the air.
At last, he comes, his cock pulsing inside me, and when he pulls out, I collapse.
44
On a highpoint
When the men untie my hands and slip off my blindfold, I feel awkward around them in a way I never have before. Something has shifted. They know something about me now, something that I hadn’t fully realized myself, and didn’t mean to share.
I get off on a loss of control. It’s a weakness, a vulnerability.
“How was it?” Khalil asks, his grin wide and confident. The others are watching me too.
Having been helpless and blind for so long, I’m not ready to engage. My mind still needs to process the whole experience; my body needs to recover. To deflect, I joke, “I’m never going to want to find an apartment now.”
“Don’t,” Shane says, his tone firm and serious. “Stay.”
“Yeah, stay,” Devin echoes, resting his hand on my thigh.
Khalil nods his agreement while Marcos stays silent.
“That was amazing,” I say, ignoring them, wishing I’d never made the joke. I slide off the bed, pretending I have an immediate need for a bathroom break. “I’ll be back.”
Are they asking me to move in with them? Or just to stay longer? Either way, it’s a moot point.
Alone in the bathroom, I take inventory in the mirror. My hair is a mess and my eye makeup is smudged in dark shadows. I look like I was just used and abused, and I don’t think I should have enjoyed it as much as I did. But how can we control what our bodies respond to?
The men liked it too, taking my body however they pleased. Of course they did. Isn’t that what all men want?