o h y e s

The other guys chuckle in agreement. Your cheeks flush hot, but the craving for another hit is a physical ache in your chest. You need to get higher. You need to chase that feeling until you disappear completely.

"Like what?" you hear yourself ask, your voice sounding small and distant.

"Grab your tits," he says, his eyes glinting. "Let’s see you play with them a little."

For a second, you hesitate. Then you look at the blunt, so close. It’s an easy trade. Your hands, feeling like they belong to someone else, move up to the front of your shirt. You cup your breasts, the fabric rough against your palms. You give them a squeeze. A cheer goes through the room.

He grins and hands you the blunt. You take the deepest drag yet, the smoke searing your throat in the best way. The world tilts, and you melt back into the couch with a satisfied sigh.

The next round, it’s the same game. The blunt is held hostage.

"Something else," another voice demands. "Take something off."

The world is syrupy now, your thoughts a slow, happy river. The idea isn't embarrassing anymore. It’s just part of the game. Part of the price. You pull your shirt over your head and toss it onto the floor, leaving you in just your jeans and a plain black bra. Their eyes are all over you, hungry and dark. You're starting to feel a different kind of high, one that starts between your legs. You get your reward, sucking down the smoke greedily.

You’re so fucking high. Your head is a messy puddle of pleasure and fog. When the blunt is denied again, a genuine whine escapes your lips. You’re desperate.

"You really want it that bad?" the guy next to you asks, a real challenge in his voice this time. He sounds like he’s joking. "Fine. Get over here and bounce on my cock for it."

The room goes quiet. They’re all watching you, waiting for you to blush and refuse. They think they’ve finally found your limit.

But the thought isn’t even shocking. It’s… right. The idea slides into your hazy mind and fits perfectly.

Without a word, you push yourself off the couch and crawl over to him. You hear the sharp intake of breath from the other guys. You hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down. You look up at him, and his smirk is gone, replaced by stunned, raw hunger.

His cock is already thick and hard, springing free from his jeans. You reach out, your hand closing around him, and he groans. You don’t hesitate. You slip your jeans and panties off, then guide yourself down onto his lap, the blunt head of his cock pressing into your pussy.

You start to bounce. Softly at first, then with more purpose, grinding down. It's so intense. This is better than the weed. So much better.

Then, hands are on you. Someone is behind you, his fingers digging into your hips, another guy’s mouth is on your neck, sucking hard. Your bra is unhooked and pulled away. Hands cup your bare breasts, thumbs flicking your nipples until they’re aching pebbles.

You’re pulled off his lap and pushed down onto your hands and knees on the floor. Someone’s tongue invades your mouth while another positions his cock at your entrance.

He shoves inside you without warning. You scream, but it’s a sound of pure pleasure. He fucks you hard and rough, his hips slamming against you. Before you can even catch your breath, another cock replaces the tongue, thrusting into your waiting mouth. You take it all, gagging as you suck, your eyes rolling back in your head.

The cock in your mouth pulls out, leaving you gasping, your throat aching. The one fucking you from behind slams into you one last time, his hot cum flooding your pussy as he groans your name. He collapses onto your back, spent.

For a moment, there’s a lull. The room is thick with the smell of sweat, sex, and stale smoke. You’re on all fours, trembling, your mind a blissful, empty void. Then the craving hits again.

You turn your head, your eyes hazy and searching. Another guy is kneeling in front of you, his cock thick and ready in his hand. Your mouth waters.

"Another hit," you beg, the words tumbling out before you can think. "Please… I need another hit."

He understands the new game perfectly. He grabs your hair and guides your mouth onto his cock. You take him in eagerly, sucking down on him like you’re trying to pull smoke from an ember. You suck until he’s groaning, until his hips start to buck, until he’s pushing your head down, fucking your throat. He comes fast, a hot, thick rush you swallow without thinking.

He pulls out. Another is already there to take his place.

It becomes a rhythm. A new rotation. They use your mouth, your pussy, your ass. You’re passed between them, a communal toy. And with every new cock, you beg for it.

"One more hit… please," you whine as you’re flipped onto your back, your legs pulled wide open.

A new guy settles between them, his cock pressing against your soaked cunt. He slides in and you cry out, the feeling of being stretched and filled all over again making you squirm. You wrap your legs around his waist, taking every brutal thrust. Your head lolls to the side, and you see another cock waiting by your mouth. You don’t even need to be told. You open wide and take it, your cheek pressed to the ground, your body being used from both ends.

You take their cocks, drawing out their pleasure, making them groan and shudder. You don't stop until they’re spent, until they’ve given you everything.

Finally, you’re lying on the floor, a slick, trembling mess. Your body is a beautiful ruin of spit and sweat and their cum. You’re dazed, your muscles aching. But the craving is still there, a low thrum deep inside you.

"One… more… hit…" you whisper to the ceiling, your voice barely there.

They surround you. Standing over you, their cocks all hard again, slick and dripping. You look up at them through barely open eyes, your mouth falling slack in invitation. This is it. The final, perfect drag.