Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
She gripped my ass, digging her fingers in to hold on. Someone else’s leg bumped against us and a muffled “Sorry” came from somewhere in the impossible knot of limbs to our left. To our right, someone was being held down by two very muscular people while another gripped the prone figure’s cock in two hands, twisting and pumping vigorously, ignoring their victim’s half-hearted pleas for mercy.
I reached between myself and Bree; there didn’t seem to be any reason to take things slow. My fingers encountered her small triangle of pubic hair and the cool metal of her hood piercing. I rubbed one finger around her clit, behind the piercing, and she mewled deliciously in my ear. Her hand sought me out too, but so did the person held down beside me. The big palm covered my breast, groping for it, and I angled myself to give them better access.
“Can I join in?” someone asked close to my ear. I looked up to see a slender figure with a strap-on around their waist. The dildo seemed comically large, but with all the lube around us, I had no doubt it would make its way into any number of holes, no problem.
Bree rose up on her knees in invitation, but everything was far too slick. She ended up braced over me, our breasts gliding and squashing together, and we both laughed.
“Where do you want it?” the person with the strap-on asked. Their long, dark hair was braided back and their deeply tan skin shone wetly, like all the rest of us did under the pulsing, colored lights.
Without hesitation, Bree answered, “My ass,” and the person climbed into position behind her with more grace than Bree had managed. Bree’s eyes flew open, staring into mine with a mixture of shock and pain; our third hadn’t held back with their thrust.
A long, low, “Fuck,” issued from Bree’s mouth, and she dropped her head. “Fuck, that’s good.”
She trapped my clit between two fingers, rocking them back and forth, and I pumped my hips in time, the lube beneath me squelching with each movement. There was too much stimulation, all around me. The driving beat of the music, the constant slide of skin on skin, Bree’s grunts and cries as she begged the person with the strap-on to go harder, faster, and the way her fingers on my clit sped up when they obliged her.
Every thrust of the stranger’s hips rocked Bree against me. My brain desperately tried to keep up with my body, but it couldn’t process anything but sensation. I climbed higher, higher, lost in dizzying hunger for more stimulation, more depravity, more, more, until I burst with a tight, high cry that made Bree laugh through her own moans.
“That was so cute. Let’s do it again,” she said, but those fingers went lower, entering me so easily that I sucked in a breath with a surprised gulp. It wasn’t two fingers. It was three, then the fourth, and with a split second of shocking pressure, her small hand was inside me.
“Oh god!” I curled up from the floor, reaching down to grip her wrist. I didn’t want to pull it out, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t imagining what I was feeling. She twisted her hand back and forth, the widest part putting near-painful pressure on my G-spot.
“Wait,” I gasped. “I should warn you, if you do that—”
But it was too late. My excitement at the sheer perversity of the entire situation made the sudden penetration enough to tip me over again, and her hand kept hitting me just right. I felt a warm gush as my orgasm hit me like a baseball bat.
“Warn me what?” she moaned into my ear, her hand stilling.
“Nothing, keep going!” I was probably not the only person adding sex fluids to the mix, and while the thought would probably have disgusted me at any other time, I found myself hoping that it wasn’t only lube on me.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” a deep voice said from somewhere nearby, and I found myself calling out, “Come on me!” I barely saw the person the cock was attached to before hot droplets showered onto my face, and a large hand smeared it into my skin and hair.
It was disgusting. Depraved. I loved every second.
Every thrust with the strap-on pulled Bree away from me a little. Her hand slid from my cunt and I found myself somehow involved in a totally different group. Someone’s cock poked between my ass cheeks; I politely but firmly pushed it away, only for another to ram into my sore, stretched pussy from the front. I wound my legs around a muscular back and went with it, every thrust sliding us across the tarp.
Communication devolved entirely. Anyone on the tarp was fair game, it seemed. I couldn’t even get a good look at the owner of the dick in me. I ended up closing my eyes and surrendering to the push and pull of the bodies around me. I lost track of how many hands and dicks ended up inside me, how many cunts I put my fingers in, how much cum ended up inside and on me.