Chapter 13

It was supposed to be just a maybe. A whispered desire between kisses and orgasms, something he’d been bringing up for weeks, always circling the topic with care — and a wicked edge. In my head, it was all thrilling. In bed, in fantasy, at my fingertips when I touched myself alone, imagining… it all seemed beautiful, dirty, and perfect.

But in reality?

I hesitated. Wondered if it was really his desire or just some dumb curiosity. An extra dick, just to see what it felt like. An experience. But no — it wasn’t that. There was hunger in the way he talked about it. Something denser, darker. It all started when I said I liked the idea of double penetration. Those times he’d fuck me hard and I’d slide the vibrator in alongside, moaning like crazy, feeling everything at once. He loved watching that. Loved seeing me spread open, surrendered, completely fucked.

But now… now it wasn’t just the toy anymore.

There was a real man sitting on my couch. For real. Legs spread, that cocky vibe of a guy who knows he’s about to get some, eyes locked on me with a calm that, instead of soothing, made me shiver. And next to him, my boyfriend. Chill. Smiling. Both of them there… wanting to fuck me.

And me?

I was shaking. My body, my hands, even my breathing felt off rhythm. I hadn’t said “yes.” Not outright. We’d agreed on a let’s see if it happens, an opening for possibility. I was drinking to loosen up, but now I was almost buzzed — and still nervous as hell.

I sat next to my boyfriend during that little “get-together,” trying to act natural. He kissed me in front of the other guy, and the kisses were different. Longer. Wetter. More teasing. Kisses with hidden intentions. But I always pulled back midway, turning my face with that shy smile of someone who still wasn’t sure if she was ready. All of it… it was still weird to me.

Then came the voice in my ear.
Low, gravelly, hot:

“You need to relax a bit… you’re way too nervous.”

And I was. Inside, an explosive mix of anxiety and horniness. I knew the guy we’d invited. We’d swapped a few kisses in college, nothing major, just a lost night among others. I’d always thought he was hot. One of those dudes who sparked a quiet little lust, a quick fantasy in the shower… but that didn’t mean I was gonna fuck him.

I mean… did it?

Right there, with both of them eyeing me like that, the alcohol burning warm in my veins and my skin prickling up to my thighs, I didn’t know what it meant anymore. I just knew my body was giving in before my mouth could open and my head said no.

And it started.

The next kiss, I didn’t pull away. I closed my eyes and let it happen. My mouth opened slow, welcoming, surrendered. I felt my glass being taken from my hand — I didn’t see who, just noticed the sudden emptiness and the ache of losing that last bit of distraction. His mouth brushed mine with lazy slowness, and everything in me started to melt: the tension, the fear, the self-control.

My body went soft.

I forgot for a moment that I was being watched, until I felt hands sliding up, cupping my tits still over my shirt. A shiver shot through me. It was gentle, but firm. Teasing. My boyfriend was kissing my neck and already yanking off his own shirt, revealing that chiseled torso that always drove me wild — familiar, but now different. Hotter because it was on display… for another guy.

When I glanced sideways, the other dude was still watching me. But this time, our eyes met. And we smiled. A quick, knowing smile, loaded with secrets that hadn’t even happened yet. I think that’s when my real surrender kicked in.

My boyfriend’s hand trailed down my thighs, parting them, exploring my skin under my skirt like he owned the territory — and still knew how to surprise. I was already soaked, fighting the urge to spread wide open right then, wrestling with the last scraps of guilt hanging on.

That’s when I felt the other one’s presence.

From the other side of the couch, he scooted closer. His body hot, now pressed against mine. He didn’t ask. Just leaned in. His leg brushed mine, the side of his arm lining up with my body like we’d been intimate forever. Like this was our spot.

And for the first time, I didn’t pull back.
While I kissed my boyfriend, I felt another mouth. Not his.
A new presence, hungry, bold — one that didn’t ask for permission. It kissed my cheek in a rush, nipped lightly at my ear with teeth, and trailed down the curve of my jaw to my neck. When his lips hit there, my body ignited.

It was a silent explosion, deep inside, total.

In a blind rush, I grabbed my boyfriend’s hand hard and shoved it between my legs, pressing it against my drenched panties. Almost a desperate plea. Almost a demand. The friction was everything I needed right then.

My skin prickled all over, from my nape to my ankles.

A long “oh…” slipped from my mouth, loaded with relief, raw lust, surrender. The sound framed in an open, dazed smile, half-dopey, half-dirty — the kind of grin that only brutal pleasure can carve on a woman’s face.

As soon as his hand pressed hard, heavy and sure, I turned — blind with horniness — toward the visitor. I sought his mouth without opening my eyes. Seeing would be like seeing too much, like dragging back the part of me that still doubted, that clung to modesty. And I didn’t want her there. Not now.

His mouth met mine, hot, familiar. And in an instant, I remembered how good his kisses were. Full of lust, tasting of the past and the urgency of now. When our tongues touched, the world lost its edges.

Hands — lots of hands — roamed my whole body. A rotation of touches, caresses, squeezes. I leaned back on the couch, spreading my legs without resistance, like an offering. A voluptuous sacrifice, given, impure.
My clothes vanished like magic. I didn’t see, didn’t think — just felt. Each piece stripped away was another part of me yielding.

I didn’t even know who was who anymore.

Mixed colognes, the scent of hot skin, raw desire, sex throbbing in the air, burning my nostrils. Mouths raced over my body, up, down, crossing paths. My tits were sucked hard, bitten, licked. Hands spread me open, fingers probed me, like I was new territory ready to be claimed.

And all I did was moan.

Deep. Wet. Wide open.
The tremor running through me wasn’t nerves anymore, but pure ecstasy. I was given over, undone, trapped in that spiral of pleasure that made my body forget itself.

But then… they stopped.
All the touches.
At the same time.

My body hung suspended in the silence, vulnerable, skin pulsing where those mouths had been. Eyes still closed on purpose, blind, I heard muffled whispers and sounds around me. A subtle creak of the leather couch. A soft, sinister shift that left me even more exposed.

I felt firm hands grip my thighs, pulling me by the waist to the edge of the couch. I slid across the warm leather until my pussy was spread open, at their mercy. I didn’t know who. Didn’t open my eyes. Just felt.

Another body, standing, positioned over me. Something hot and slightly damp brushed my lips. The smell was strong, musky. A cock. Right there at my mouth, demanding entry with its touch. But I didn’t know whose it was.

My body tensed for a second — not refusal, but tension.
Instinct screamed. Doubt too. But my mouth opened.
And before I could think, a tongue — another one — reached between my legs.

The first lick was slow. From bottom to top, tracing every fold, every inch of my dripping pussy. The shock hit instant. I moaned with the cock pressing my lips and the tongue parting me at the same time, like they wanted to split me in two directions. The mouth eating me had no rush. It was firm, demanding, knew where to press, where to suck. Every time he plunged his tongue in, my back arched, hips bucked, like I wanted to swallow his face whole.

The contrast was insane.
Down there, the wet heat and sweat of his mouth sucking me like he wanted to pull my soul out through my pussy.
Up top, the warm weight of a cock pressing my mouth, insistent, throbbing, waiting for me to give in. No more who, where, how. Just sensations. My closed eyes turned it all to flesh, touch, scent, and cum. Pure lust. I moaned around the fullness in my mouth, moaned as I was licked, moaned without knowing whose mouths they were — just knew they were all mine.

I gave in. My mouth opened, but my body wouldn’t respond. I was useless, limp, dominated by that pleasure surging from bottom to top like an electric jolt. Every lick below made my body jolt, shudder. And the guy standing over me — my boyfriend — seeing my mouth wide and passive, started thrusting his cock against my lips like I was some stray bitch on the street, a random slut ready to be used.

The cockhead was thick, heavy. It gagged me, choked me, stole my breath. But still, I wanted it. Wanted to serve, to give pleasure, to lick and swallow. I gripped the shaft with both hands, trying to control the pace, to breathe. When I caught the scent, the taste, the weight, I knew right away: it was him. My boyfriend. My body recognized it effortlessly. Didn’t even need to open my eyes.

I grabbed his balls firm, tugged with my fingers, massaged with lust. And there, between a lick on my pussy and a hungry suck I gave, I took him all the way down, balls deep. I stroked with my hand as the cock slid down my throat, moaning muffled, feeling drool run down my chin, my face smashed against his thighs.

“Babe…” he whispered, panting, “I want you to do something.”

“What?” I answered on autopilot, not thinking, with his cock still brushing my lips.

That’s when I opened my eyes.
Two men. Naked. Hard.
Right there.
Around me.
Both with cocks out, throbbing, ready to fuck me. And for the first time, shock hit me — not fear, but realizing how far gone I was. Right then, I was scared for myself, for the safety of my body.

“Come here, man,” my boyfriend said, voice steady.

The other one stepped closer. And when I saw his shadow line up on the other side, I got it. Got everything. And I accepted.

To be continued…