“Wow…”
It was a whole other world. My father had once said that the previous owners of our house had last redecorated sometime in the 1970s and he hadn’t done anything major in the time we had lived there. He said that to do so would have been committing the sin of pride when what we had was perfectly functional.
I had no idea when this towering building, which consisted mainly of offices, was built but everything on this exclusive top floor residence for what must be a sinfully wealthy person looked to be absolutely cutting edge, like it was upgraded every month or something. There was a smattering of art, but none of it depicted a disapproving Jesus silently accusing me of anything. It was strangely relaxing.
Under a general haze of some sweet-smelling smoke were seven men, some sitting around a coffee table engaged in conversation, a couple playing pool, another two talking as they looked out the window over the city, which was a beautiful view. When I stepped close enough, they turned from each other and fixed their collective eyes on me.
They all wore thin black bands of some silky material with eye holes cut out, giving them an air of mystery and preserving their anonymity, which had been mentioned in the contract. I wasn’t to know who any of my benefactors were.
The masks seemed to emphasise their eyes, making their appraising gaze all the more intense. I felt even more closely scrutinised than I had ever been by those pictures on the wall at home, or by my father, or the big statues in the church, and began to feel the first traces of nervousness. What had I gotten myself into?
To my relief, their conclusions seemed markedly different than any previous judgment placed on me so far in my young life. I’d always been deemed guilty, sinful, not good enough… but these men actually seemed pleased with what they saw, they looked as if I had just become the centre of their universe, if only for a short time. I smiled hesitantly.
“Hello everybody, I’m Mary. Mary Ainsworth? I signed the contract to…”
One of the men began walking towards me. “Who gives a…”
Another extended his arm, holding the first one back. “Wait. This one is different, remember. Reverend’s daughter.”
One of the men at the window chuckled and said something about how he loved the sheltered ones as the restraining gentleman walked up to me with a warm smile on his face.
“Hi…” I began.
My words were cut off as he reached down to slide his hand up my inner thigh. I gasped at the strange sensations his fingers brought forth, somewhere between a tickle and a tingle, before his hand ended up right between my legs, one finger gently stroking me through my panties.
Some unspoken instinct was screaming at me to stop him, but I had to remember the contract I’d signed. I was supposed to encourage everything they did, beg for more even, and after all, what was the harm? It actually felt really good, something like an itch being scratched.
“I like that, sir,” I said.
“Of course you do, slut. Tell me, Mary, do you know what this is for?” He pressed his finger against that mysterious middle hole.
“My parents said it isn’t for anything, it’s just there. What’s a slut?”
The man glanced back to his colleagues with an I-told-you-so kind of look and then returned his attention to me, staring deep into my eyes as he continued to gently stroke me through my underwear. It was hard to concentrate with him doing that, I’d never been touched in such a distracting manner before, it made my breath hitch, it made strange images flitter through the shadows in my mind.
“A slut is you, Mary, you are our pretty little slut tonight. And your pussy is made for getting fucked by huge cocks, so that’s what we’re going to do tonight. All night.”
“I don’t understand… fucked? Cock? Pussy? Are you speaking another language? You think I’m pretty?”
My right foot shuffled to the side without me even thinking about it, giving the man easier access to what he clearly wanted, that area between my legs. I sighed as he continued rubbing along that slit through my panties, it felt so good.
“It’s the language of love, Mary. And you’re beautiful, too beautiful to have never sucked a cock.”
“That’s French?” I half-gasped as a spark of pleasure shot from between my legs to my belly, churning there like an electric storm, when he said I was beautiful.
“Say ‘You can fuck me as hard as you want’”
“You can f-fuck me as hard as you want,” I repeated.
I didn’t understand, exactly, but I was lost to his touch. All I wanted was more of his attention, more compliments, more of those looks from all of his friends.
When he bent down and kissed me, I was taken by surprise. I’d seen people kissing on television once and when my dad found out, he threw the TV away, ranting about how it was the work of Satan.
I was beginning to think that my dad was wrong about a lot of things. As the kiss went deeper and deeper, forcing my mouth open, and his tongue played with mine, how could something that made me feel so warm and fuzzy, so loved, be sinful?
When our lips parted with a wet-smacking sound, my head followed his for a couple of inches as he stood up to his full height again, his finger still stroking me like clockwork. I found I was a little breathless from the kiss, my chest heaving as I practically melted under his gaze.
With his spare hand he grabbed mine, bringing it to the front of his pants where I felt a bulge, a huge bulge, behind that zip. Slowly, he made me stroke it up and down several times until I got the idea and moved my hand along it by myself.
What could it be? I’d only ever seen myself without clothes before, it was all very confusing, but something about the shape of it, the size of it, made me want to touch it more.
Stroking it back and forth the same way this unknown man was stroking me brought up more of those shadowy images in my mind, images of people writhing together. Not in pain or torment like the souls my dad was always talking about, but in pleasure and joy.
There was some kind of universal promise held in that bulge. Get it inside you, and you’ll feel bliss like you’ve never dared dream of.
The man pulled his hand away from between my legs and I almost wanted to cry. It had felt like something was about to happen, something wonderful. My panties had taken on a slippery feel, sliding against my bare skin with a slickness that seemed to be coming from me.
He brought his fingers to my mouth, pushing them past my lips until I could taste that slickness, that essence of myself, on my tongue. His other hand curled around the back of my neck, holding me in place as he thrust two fingers in and out of my mouth until my tongue and lips removed every trace of that slippery substance.
“I’m going to slap you now, Mary,” he said.
“But… but why?”
Smack!
My head couldn’t move too far because of the grip he had at the back of my neck, and a bloom of fire spread its warmth on my cheek. I looked up at him through eyes that were beginning to water, searching for some reason for the punishment.
To my surprise I found none of the disapproval I had come to expect in the wake of a slap to the face. Instead I saw that the hunger in his eyes, his hunger for me, had grown. The tears stayed on the verge of falling as I came to that realisation. He wanted me even more now.
“You’re a good girl, Mary, I’m not slapping you because you’ve…”
“Again,” I said. “Hit me again.”
Smack!
I looked up at him and gasped as I felt another jolt of pleasure shoot from between my legs to my belly, almost as if he was stroking me again. The pain of being slapped on the same cheek for the second time in under a minute was no small thing, to be sure, but it was easily overshadowed by the pleasure and that strange sense of power. I could make this man, and all the other men, want me.
“Take my cock out,” he commanded.
“What’s a…” I began. “This?” I asked, squeezing the bulge under his zip.
“That’s right.”<
br />
“OK.”
The sound of the zip seemed almost deafening as I moved it from the top to the bottom, creating a little opening just big enough for my hand to slip inside. I found the front of his underwear in that warm space, and some gap that let my hand through too, finally feeling what that bulge was with no barrier of clothing in the way.
I could have sworn it was almost hot to the touch, throbbing and thick. It was a… a cock… and it was the most incredible thing I had ever laid my hands on.
With difficulty, I tugged it out into the open air and then pulled my hand back in surprise, bringing both of them to my cheeks in shock as I stared at this magnificent… thing… the masked man had between his legs. The very sight of it made me almost hyperventilate, it was like the most simultaneously beautiful and intimidating thing I’d ever seen.
“Wrap your hand around it and stroke it again, slut,” he said.
If he hadn’t have commanded it, I would have asked permission. I reached out and curled my fingers around that manly thickness, pumping it up and down, and my jaw dropped anew when I felt it growing even further in my hand until it jutted up and away from the man’s body, straight, thick and hard.
“Follow me, and don’t you fucking dare let go,”
He turned and began walking back towards the couch he had risen from, where some of his colleagues had begun to undress, revealing muscular bodies that seemed to be chiselled from stone, so hard and so powerful. I was led right in the middle of them all, and I couldn’t help but feel tiny in their presence, a notion only reinforced by how small my hand looked gripping that huge shaft. Now that it had reached what I assumed was its full size, I could only just make my fingers touch around it.
The man whose cock was in my hand sat down and I was pulled to my knees in front of him as the mixed scent of all the men around me combined into one intoxicating aroma. Some kind of alcohol, some sweet smoky smell, and the unmistakable fragrance of money. I knew it from the collection basket at church, but it was an undertone to the whole atmosphere of this room.
One by one, hard cocks of approximately equal size to the one I had in my hand were revealed to me. They pressed in close, rubbing the tips against my cheeks, my lips, reaching down with their hands to squeeze the firm bumps on my chest as I was held almost mesmerised by what I was seeing and feeling.
The man sitting in front of me leaned forward and pulled my shirt upwards and over my head, until it was bunched up around the elbow of the arm firmly grasping his hard shaft. Somebody flicked the clasp of my bra undone and it soon joined my shirt.
“It’s OK to let go now, Mary, I’m going to fuck your face,” he said.
I reluctantly released his cock and my shirt and bra were soon discarded as he gathered up my hair with both hands, pushing it back into a ponytail that he then held firmly with just one hand, pulling me forward until I rose up on my knees and bent over.
“Open your mouth, and suck my cock,” he said.
My lips parted an instant before the fat tip of his shaft slid over them and landed on the slippery pillow of my tongue. I did as he said and sucked on it as hard as I could, my cheeks pulling in on either side against the masculine invasion of my mouth.
He pulled on the makeshift ponytail and lifted my head off his cock with the loud sound of released suction, and I licked my lips as my eyes rolled up to his, seeking his approval.
“Oh fuck yeah, just like that, and flick your tongue on the bottom, from side to side, you filthy little cum dumpster.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
He forced my head back down and once more I only just had my mouth open in time before that huge piece of manhood filled me again, ‘fucking my face’ as he had called it. With rhythmic pushes and pulls on my hair, he had my head bobbing up and down on his cock, with my cheeks sucking in every time he almost, but not quite, pulled all the way out.
I flicked my tongue across the underside of that throbbing spear of manhood, just like I had been told to, and was rewarded with the most gratifying look another human had ever levelled at me. I blushed with pride and then sucked and flickered my tongue with as much enthusiasm as I could muster… which was a whole hell of a lot.
Two men, completely naked except for their masks, sat to either side of the first and brought my hands to their rigid rods, using me to stroke themselves up and down until I got the idea and did it for myself. For a moment I felt like I was skiing with a pole in each hand and one on my mouth, and then the vision flittered away as quickly as it had come.
From behind me I heard the coffee table pushed out of the way as other men made room for themselves. Unknown hands stroked up my inner thighs and explored for themselves just how wet I had made my panties.
Before I knew it my skirt had been flipped up over my lower back and I felt my underwear pulled down to my knees, exposing the area they all seemed to take a special interest in, especially that middle hole they called a pussy, which I had been brought up to believe had no purpose at all.
My pussy. That was the source of all that slippery stuff, I could feel countless fingers stroking the outer folds, rubbing that little bump at the top and making my legs quiver. Slowly, one of them pushed inside me until he pressed against the end, and I heard him say something about ‘busting my cherry’ that had the others murmuring in agreement.
The man with his cock in my mouth tightened his grip on my hair and curled his other hand around the back of my neck as he began thrusting upwards against every downward ‘bob’ of my head. After only a few repetitions I felt the tip brush against the back of my throat and went bright red with the effort of fighting against the instinct to gag.
At that moment I felt the rough stubble of one of the men prickling all around my pussy as he kissed those lower lips, running his tongue in one long lick from that sensitive bump, through the wet slit, and out the other side.
“Mmmmm, virgin pussy,” he said.
One by one, the men who weren’t sitting on the couch licked and sucked at my ‘virgin pussy’, sending wave after wave of sensation through my body until I couldn’t even concentrate on the cock that was now pounding furiously against the back of my throat.
I’d never dreamed of any feelings like this before, I didn’t know such pleasure was possible. Suddenly, when one of the men sucked that wondrous little bump at the top of my slit between his lips and quickly flickered his tongue across it, I was officially in heaven.
An explosion of ecstasy so intense that it turned my field of vision into multi-coloured bursts of fireworks rocked my body and I lost all coordination. The three men using my body to rub their cocks took over again as I let out one long moan that was divided by squelches as that hard shaft impacted against the back of my throat.
Just as that unimaginable pleasure was fading I felt my mouth flooded with some thick, creamy, fluid. Some went straight down my throat, settling in my stomach and warming my whole body with its heat, but much of it seemed to coat my tongue and the flavour of it gave a kind of second wind to my pleasure.
I didn’t let a single drop escape my mouth, it was too precious. If this stuff was bottled and sold in stores I would spend my allowance on it every week. I licked and slurped at that huge cock until I was sure there was no more of that incredible stuff to be had and it popped out of my mouth.
“What was that?” I panted.
“That was a fuckin’ huge load of cum.”
“Please, sir, can I have some more?”
For some reason this question seemed to amuse all the men, and I blushed in confusion as the one who had given me that wonderful gift of ‘cum’ climbed backwards off the couch only to be replaced by one of the others who had been licking my pussy. He grasped the dishevelled remains of my ponytail and slapped me without warning.
Smack!
“Open that mouth, cumslut, and I’ll give you the biggest load you could want.”
“Thank you!” I managed to blurt out before that massive thing was plunged past
my lips.
I rolled my eyes up and searched the face of my new benefactor for approval, for hints that I was doing well, and found it in no uncertain terms. He too was filled with some kind of desire, a passion that pistonned his cock in and out of my mouth with urgency that soon had him pounding against my throat just as his colleague had.
Between my legs I felt something warm and hard probing the lips of my pussy and soon realised it was a hard cock, one of the men was trying to put it inside me like we were corresponding pieces of a jigsaw puzzle or something. Surely something that big could never fit, it had to be a mistake.
Mistake or not, that apparently wasn’t going to stop him from trying and I felt his strong hands on my hips with iron-clad control, pulling me against that rock-solid spear of man-meat as he pushed himself forward. I was wet, slippery, eager to please, but he was just too big.
The pain started off low, but quickly grew as he continued to apply more and more force. I began whimpering around the jack-hammering cock in my mouth, it hurt.
When only the very tip of his cock was in, the entrance of my pussy felt like a rubber band stretched to the point of snapping around its girth. A strange fire had been set between my legs, one that alternated in throbbing with pleasure and pain.
I didn’t think I could stand any more, but that pleasure in the midst of it all gave me pause. It promised that if I could make it through this initial discomfort, to put it mildly, then I would be doing what I was born to do.
When the ridge of his cock slipped in past the tight ring of my entrance I would have let forth a primal scream of triumph if I wasn’t getting face-fucked at the time. At the same moment, a firm hand came down on my bare ass cheek, hard enough that I was sure a bright red hand print would be forming.
Smack!
The huge masculine presence between my legs soon hit the end of my tunnel, but to my surprise just pushed straight through to even greater depths, igniting a fire along the walls that hugged it so tightly every inch of the way until I felt his pelvis resting on my ass and I knew there was no more of him to take.
Take All of It September 2019 Page 140
