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He gasped and held her. Fucking insane, was as much as he could process, the room filled with candlelight, the sounds of slurping from her friends. One guy was on his knees eating his girlfriend. The couple next to them reversed, she slurping down his cock. In-fucking-sane!
She curled over his purple cockhead, gliding her lips across its stretched surface, rubbing her tongue into the hole, tasting the acrid flavor of piss and sweat. Her stomach clenched for just a moment, the earlier throat fucking blossoming into her memory, and then it relaxed. I'm in control. It's different. She took him as deep into her mouth as she could, rubbing her tongue along his head and shaft until he moaned and stopped her.
"You'll need to earn it, cunt. Hold it there." His voice was tight. "Just hold it and breathe." He wasn't close; he wanted to keep her still. He could feel her heart beating at her temples, her cheeks sucking on his crown, her lips wrapped around his shaft, unmoving, waiting. "Give me your finger."
ohmygodohmygodohmygod. She held up one hand, watching out of the corner of her eye, not releasing his cock from her mouth. He squeezed the lube onto her fingers, rubbing it down into her webbing, cool and slick.
Ohfuckohfuck. His cock tastes so perfect, so hot and firm and his balls will curl up and shoot his cum into me. Her head was fogged with desire. She felt her insides melt, her fantasies spilling out of her brain too fast to catch, a blur of taking him, of him taking her. She didn't have words for it.
"Cunt." His tone shifted. "The priests. Show them how eager you are to please me."
She felt the self-loathing add to her excitement, flooding the tendril away. She needed him to say it, to force her to accept what she was becoming: his pussy servant, virgin supplicant, wet channel, swelling lips, a hot wet hole for his cock. She clenched at the image watching the tendril watching her. She moved slowly. Eager didn't mean fast. It meant bringing him up, holding him there, teasing him, threatening to keep him on the brink. He would see what eager felt like.
She brought her other hand up to feel his balls; they were hanging down, his sack all skin and stringy. She cupped them, slowly rolling them in her palm. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft, below where her lips were, the skin wet from her drool. She squeezed him with her fingers and thumb, working her way from the joint at its base up to her lips, her lips working backwards until she squeegeed them off his head. And back, lips meeting fingers, and then away. Each time she felt him harden, jerk a little, his balls rolling in her hand, his sac beginning to tighten.
She would learn how to do this perfectly. She would do this to him again, and again. But now, tonight, she was In Abby's Study, in front of her friends, his cock in her mouth! She brought her slick fingers between his legs, sliding along the muscles until she found his hole. He moaned and shifted, but she kept it pressed against it, its wrinkles leading her to his opening. She pushed the tip into his hole, harder, against his resistance, moving in when he relaxed, the lube working its magic.
She kept up the pattern with her other hand and her lips, knowing it was driving him to the cliff, his balls curling up, his sac wrinkled and lizard like. Her finger was deep into him, pushing against the smooth muscle in his rectum, searching for the hidden gland. She pushed as deep as she could, forcing a groan, his legs jerking. She pulled her mouth up along his cock, stopping short of popping off his head, resting her tongue on his hole, tasting the tiny pearl of cum coating its tip. So close. So close. Her arousal had gone off the charts the moment she begged to be his cunt. She had lost words for what she was feeling. She lost all sense of measurement. She would kneel here all day, hanging onto his cock by the tiniest bit of lip, her tongue teasing him, her fingers lightly squeezing his shaft at the joint.
His breath was ragged, trying not to cum, trying to make it last. If she moved even a hair's width, he would explode. Her finger wriggled, her tongue teased; he struggled. And then she moved in just the smallest way, and he fell over the edge, the sweet flood of sugar-joy bursting from between his hips, up his stomach and down around his sphincter, squeezing her finger, out through his cock: a white hot flood of pleasure that channeled into his balls and up his shaft, the nerves lit up as he jerked his cum out his hole, his eyes rolling back, his knees vibrating. He held her still to let her know he wanted to and for no other reason, his cock jerking and sliding across her tongue, his anus pulsing and clamping, until it was over and he could catch his breath.
"Fuckkkk," she said, pulling her finger from inside him, resting her hands back on her thighs, resting her butt back on her heels, bouncing off again from the sting. The taste flooded her mouth, she couldn't swallow fast enough. "What the fuck...?" She exhaled, feeling how wet she was, how turned on.
His orgasm still reverberating, he stared at her: Face blotched and red, breasts rising and falling, her breathing still not under control, her pussy swollen, visible through the dark hair between her legs. She looked up at him tentatively, her expression questioning, asking if she'd been good enough. His hands drifted down her shoulders, resting across her back pulling her against his cock. She melted into his tenderness.
She was struggling with what she'd just done, what she'd just admitted to. To being his servant.FUCK!! But the tendril was quiet, green and lush resting along her spine, waiting.
He stroked her face, smiling. "It's time."
At those two words, her arousal flooded her brain, the days of being held at the brink, the memory of the woman and her man, her begging him to let her cum, the pain/pleasure from him pinching her nipples, her acceptance to serve him as his virgin supplicant, the spankings, her lips hot and swollen, the threat of being impaled in her ass on top of everything else. She felt herself swaying, dizzy. The need to take him, to feel that sweet pleasure of going over the top, like last time, like with Caroline.
"Head down, pussy up." He gently pushed between her shoulders, moving her head to the inlay.
She moaned into the floor, her breasts hanging, her nipples almost grazing the wood. OHMYGODohmygodohmygod. The tendril had lit up at her resistance to taking his cock into her ass. She could feel the blood pulsing in her lips, her head on fire; she couldn't catch her breath.
He had knelt beside her, his hands lightly rubbing down her back, along her sides, pulling at her hips to stretch her out, his thumbs grazing along her cheeks, the slight stinging reminding her again of what she'd agreed to do...to be. He spread her cheeks, lifting the cloak onto his arms. He slipped it up her back and over her head, exposing her to the room and hiding his movements from her. She moaned, knowing he would be behind her shortly, opening her up, sliding into her.
"Ask me, cunt. The priests demand you ask for the honor of taking my cock into your pussy. It's gaping open, cunt, you have been wanting it for days. Tell them. Tell them what you want."
"Oh fuckkk, Cos!" The shame rushed down her face and into her core, feeding the tendril. Her friends had heard! She jerked as the tip of his cock brushed against her lips. "Fuck me, Cos!" She moaned loudly enough for them to hear. "Fuck your virgin cunt with that hard, hot cock! Slip it into me, push it deep inside!" She was panting, feeling the tendril's roots flooded with her acceptance, the shame powering her acceptance. "YES! Pleasepleaseplease, ohfuckohfuckohfuck!" She heard herself saying the words, but she was focused on his cockhead slipping in between her swollen lips, each tiny movement exaggerated. He moved excruciatingly slowly, waiting until she begged him loud enough for her words to echo in the room. The sounds from her friends had quieted and she realized they had stopped to watch and listen: her ass raised, his cock hard and thick slowly spearing into her opening, her begging him to fuck her, to make her his servant.
He moved deeper into her and she felt her channel opening in places she'd never had anything before. The feeling of being penetrated, invaded, filled, kept coming as he moved even deeper, inching in so slowly. He was hard; she knew his cockhead was hot, but her channel was hotter. She gasped when he bottomed out, her words abruptly ending. His balls rested against the top of her opening, lightly grazing her clit. And then he slowly pulled out, her channel closing behind him, the need to have him filling her up forcing her to beg him to shove it back in.
He moved as slowly as he could; she would never have a first time again. He intended to make it last. So bizarre. Looking at the other couples, frozen, watching; their hands stroking their partners. He had no idea how this fantasy could have become so real, but hearing Emily's gasps and moans, her begging him to fuck her, all conspired with the drug to make him hard, Out, holding the tip against her lips, waiting for her to beg him again, he slipped out the lube and coated his thumb, letting a glob drop onto her open pink hole.
She jerked and clenched, surprised by the cold against her stretched skin, thinking he'd spit. And then she felt how viscous it was, moving too slowly toward her open pussy. "Fuckkkkk, Cos!" She couldn't protest if she wanted to beat the tendril, but she wasn't ready. He's hardly fucked me in my cunt! the self-righteous tone contrasting sharply with her easy acceptance of that awful word. And then his thumb, rough and calloused, pushing aside her tight muscle, the tip coating with lube as it moved inside her. She groaned in frustration and need at the second assault, his cockhead moving in time, in parallel, unbearably slowly. The two invaders filling her at the same time, overwhelming her senses. Too much! It's too much! But she didn't want him to stop. It wasn't too much. It was exactly what she wanted: the shame and humiliation, the degradation, she watched and felt all of that from a separate part of herself. She saw her friends witnessing her sacrifice, the inching into her holes, the debasement of her body, reducing her to wet holes for him to occupy, her mouth, her cunt and now her ass. It's what the tendril, the priests, Abby's fragrance wanted her to feel: accepting the shame of serving him, accepting her place as a servant to satisfy his need. She cried out as his balls pushed against her opening again, the webbing of his thumb pressed against her crack.
"Please, pleasepleaseplease," she didn't have any words, just a need for him to move, take her, bring her over the edge. She pushed herself against him, trying to make him go faster, but he stayed still, the rhythm of their heartbeats pulsing in the wall squeezed between his cock and thumb.
He hadn't felt any resistance to his cock. Was she really a virgin? But he knew she was inexperienced, her attitude, her need to prove herself. It didn't matter. She definitely wasn't now. He left his thumb buried deep into her and began to pull his cock out, a little faster now, until he popped out of her, the exit forcing her to moan, to beg him to fill her again. He looked at his cock to see if there was blood, but it was too dark to tell, her aroma filling his head, making him want to shove into her harder. Her friends' activities had spun up, responding to the intensity of what he and Emily were doing. He moved his cock into her, still more slowly than she wanted, pressing his base hard against her lips, wet and dripping. He loved feeling his thumb rubbing his shaft through the muscle of her rectum. And then out, slightly faster. And again, repeating the process, slowly accelerating, listening to her breathing, shortening to pants, her words dissolving into grunts, begging him to fuck her.
And everything suddenly shifted, her need, the tendril, the scene, the burning at her core, his owning her, invading her, debasing her: it all turned inside out, replaced by a bright green fog. Her body took over, the fog wrapping itself around her thoughts, embracing her. It pulsed, from her core out to her fingertips, fed by the rhythm of his movements, anchored by his thumb deep in her rectum. Parts of her body brightened, so bright she couldn't focus on them: her nipples, now pushed against the floor, her clit swollen and teased as he pressed against its base, the tip of his cock as it slid through her channel, against his thumb. She was stretched; the fog stretched from the top of her ears to the bottom of her openings, spreading down her legs to the bottom of her feet, her toes lighting up. And then the bright spots burst out, like stars exploding, combining, joining, the sensations from his movements eclipsed by the sun-bright white that lit up her brain.
He felt her clutching at his thumb, her hips rotating to grab more of him, her cunt trying to hold onto his cock until he felt the burst of liquid ejaculating from her, sluicing past his shaft, spilling onto his balls. Holy fuck! He'd never had a squirter before. Yesterday's cunt slapping had given him a hint, but he hadn't been sure. He wasn't close and he knew she was on just the first of her orgasms. He wanted to make sure she wouldn't forget what losing her virginity felt like.
"OHGODOHGODOHGOD FUCK FUCK FUCK!" She'd never felt anything so intense in her life, her body a bright white light, pulsing, subsiding, his movements filling the fog with another brightening even as the first was just fading. The white becoming green at the edges, her core lighting up, spreading out and with a flash, faster than she could track it, she went rigid again, the fog a bright white fabric, wrapping her skin, her core, her fingers. She felt how wet, wet, wet her thighs were, the liquid tickling her, his thumb rubbing in places she'd never been rubbed. And the fog dimmed to a misty green, the movement of his cock finally breaking through.
He started fucking her hard after her second climax. He wanted her to know he owned her, to make the fantasy real. He never exited, pulling out just enough to give him length to piston in, slapping his balls against her gaping cunt, and then out again. And in, plowing into her, her channel sopping wet. He forced a quif out of her, the smacking, slurping, gurgling of her juices forcing air in and out. She hungered for embarrassment. He'd seen it when they'd been caught by Caroline outside, spanking her. He kept up the pace, his thighs beginning to burn. This wasn't about his pleasure; he'd cum soon enough, he knew, but he'd already cum. This was something else; she needed to prove something and he knew she was using him, somehow. He smiled at the thought. He didn't feel used, he couldn't feel used with his cock slamming into her, his thumb pinning her in place. And he felt her squeezing him again, her back stiffening, her moans rising to a higher frequency.
OHFUCKKKK!The climax hit her a third time out of nowhere. The fog, one second swirling, misty, distant bright sparks near her breasts, deep in her core, and the next a bright white instantaneous across her entire consciousness. She didn't hear herself scream, but that was the thing Caroline remembered the most, she told her weeks later, concerned at first and then swept up by it as Bobby plunged into her.
Her scream pushed him over the edge, seating his cock as deep as possible into her, massaging it with his thumb he felt his seed gathering in his balls, tight against her hole, and then a rush as it sped up his shaft, splurting deep inside her. Sure as fuck hope she's really on the pill...the thought that he'd injected his jism against her cervix, the little fuckers swimming their way up to find an egg scaring him more than a little.
She collapsed, his cock slipping from her even as it remained hard. He pulled his thumb out, gently brushing her lower back with his hand; petting her, spreading the glow he knew she must be feeling.
Her pussy was on fire, empty but the nerves lit up, the echoes of his cock still vibrated, pulsing. She squeezed muscles in her channel, muscles he'd awakened, weak now, but ones she knew she would strengthen, knew instinctively she could use to wrap around a cock...not just his cock, she realized...new cocks in ways that would make her partners want to come back for more. Her breasts were pressed flat against the floor, the wood, cool at first, now warmed to her temperature, her head turned, pressing her cheek into the inlay. The burning from her holes pressed into her thoughts, the fog now gone, the bright points reduced to embers burning at her entrances. She found her hands, her arms cramped, stretched out in front of her, moving them back to gently rub the pain away with her fingertips.
She lay there exhausted, the soap scent of the clean floor mixing with the smoke and Abby's fragrance, her insides pulsing. She could hear the couples going at it off to the side, soft grunts and yelps in different rhythms. Her vagina was oozing; his cum mixed with hers still dribbling down her lips, drops softly landing onto the floor. She felt liquid against her shins but couldn't believe it was from them. What else could it be? The thought was unanswerable. The cloak was over her head, making a golden tent, lit softly by the candles just beyond her. Breathing felt new, different, more open, the memory of him entering her, and entering her, and then deeper than she'd felt anything. She clenched the muscles she didn't know she had, the ones she wanted to strengthen, ones she wished she could have squeezed, feeling his shaft moving deep inside her. The pounding, the way he teased her at first and then built up, like a machine, like a power tool. She smiled at the thought...he's my power tool.
She didn't want to move, she wanted to feel him hugging her. Where did he go? Curiosity and need won over her wanting to melt into a puddle.
"Cos?" she groaned as she gently pushed herself up, her breasts peeling away from the floor, the cloak draping over her head. Turning, she saw his feet just next to her, and lifting the fabric over her head, she saw him sitting, his robe splayed out on the floor behind him, his cock still thick, poking out of its hairy nest.
"Fucking hell," he whispered, looking at her. "Are you okay?" His eyes burned and glinted in the candle light, the sounds of her friends fucking in the background creating an awkward and strange soundtrack. "That was the most amazing..." he watched her unfold, stared at her amazing body.
She nodded, not ready to speak. She lay her head down on his legs, her mouth nearly touching his penis. Her knees had slipped in a puddle and she couldn't believe that was from them. But it couldn't be from him...she knew how much he usually came. The realization it was from her, the memory of what she'd done at Caroline's, was a new source of embarrassment. She laughed it off. It was the only way. The aromas were confusing: his musk, his cum, her musk, the smoke, Abby's fragrance and the lingering of the soap all swirled with each inhale, taking her mind down rabbit holes. She felt his hand stroking her head, his blood pumping in his thighs against her cheek.
He watched her as he caught his breath, cursing at taking the pill, his need more than filled, but his cock still ready for more. Looking at her, he realized she had fallen asleep, the cloak lying on the floor behind her, her breast exposed, its nipple pink and soft against the shadow between his legs. What the fuck have we been doing? A couple of weeks ago was it that long? he had imagined what it would be like to fuck her when Slim and he had been talking with Mac. And then Mac's warning; Cos remembered thinking how grade A stupid it would be to even think about fucking around.
