Excitement and apprehension had butterflies taking wing in the pit of your tummy. You'd tried asking around to the others who'd been chosen, but they'd always been very secretive. No one else in the village seemed to know what happened up on the mountain, only that the chosen would keep to themselves after, never to marry or bear children. And while they'd never seemed to long for a different kind of life, you couldn't help but worry that the same future awaited you.

But there wasn't time to worry. The celebration was over, and it was time for you to go to bed one last time before your life changed forever.

______________________________________________________________

You woke up early the next morning, having slept fitfully the night before. Your small house was dreadfully quiet, and you had a brief moment to wish you still lived with your family. The sounds of them going about their normal routine would have been soothing on a day like this one.

But the day after you'd been chosen, you'd been given a home of your own to live in among the others who'd served your god. It had been something of a lonely time since you'd moved in. The others were polite and kind, but distant. You understood why; they held secrets no one else in the village knew, and that surely weighed on them.

Anxiety had your tummy in knots, so you only managed to choke down a few mouthfuls of breakfast. You took a seat at your kitchen table, waiting for the sun to rise. It was then that you heard a quiet knock on the door.

It was time.

You rose unsteadily to your feet, smoothing your clothing as best you could. When you opened the door, you found the others waiting. They all looked completely calm. You wished you could say the same for yourself. Swallowing hard, you followed them out of the village and up the mountain path. It was a steep slope, but none of the others seemed to have any trouble traversing it. You wondered if you'd grow accustomed to walking this path too someday.

You were sweating by the time you reached the cave. A soft sigh of relief escaped you as you stepped into the welcoming darkness. One of the others told you to stay there, and you watched as their outlines passed you as they headed deeper into the cave. They moved quickly and confidently, despite the gloom.

Fidgeting, you waited for further instructions. A gentle hand took you by the elbow, startling you from your worry.

"Don't worry," they murmured in a low voice. "We were all anxious when we first came here."

It was reassuring to know, but you couldn't unstick your tongue enough to thank them for their kindness. Instead, you nodded wordlessly. There was nothing for you to do but wait.

Finally, light flared in the distance. Someone lit one torch and then another, and another, filling the cavern with light. You blinked against the brightness. Still, relief flooded through you that you could see your surroundings at last. You glanced around eagerly, taking in as much as you could.

But the cave was… well, perhaps unremarkable was the wrong word, but not nearly as fantastic as you had expected it to be. Stalacites hung from the ceiling of the cave, while the floor was clear. And in the dim light, you could see a faint shimmer against the walls.

Was that… water?

You took a step forward before you could think better of it, utterly entranced. How had you not known that this was here? You were seized by the urge to dip your toes into the water, to feel its coolness lapping at your skin.

One of the others stopped you from getting any closer. Their smile was gentle.

"Patience, little one," they said. "First, we must prepare you."

Prepare you? What did that mean?

They took you by the hand and led you to the edge of the pool and then around it. You found that you could hardly tear your gaze away from its smooth surface.

"Watch your step."

The warning forced you to look where you were going. On the other side of the pool was a circular dais, elevated just enough for whoever was upon it to look down at the water.

You knew without asking that that was where you would wait for your god.

The others led you up to the dais, and shock rippled through you as they began to strip. You balked.

"What… what are you doing?" you stammered.

"We do not hide from the one we serve."

There was no chastisement in the response, and yet you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. What a foolish question to have asked. You quickly disrobed and couldn't help but allow your gaze to wander, not to the water this time, but to the others around you.

They all had a similar build, you noticed. Rounded hips and tummies, and full, luscious tits.

Arousal pooled low in your belly even as your cheeks heated.

Now was not the time for such thoughts.

The others were completely bare now, and they gestured for you to go on ahead of them. A soft gasp escaped you as soon as you set foot on the first step. Instead of being cool as you'd expected, the stone was warm, like a living thing.

This truly was a holy place.

It was only once you'd reached the very top of the dais that the others joined you. They surrounded you on all sides, some of them even brushing against you. The sight and feel of so much bare flesh was enough to fluster you, and you concentrated keeping your gaze focused on the ground.

That was why you didn't notice anyone reaching for the bottles until a gentle hand slid down your back. You jumped, started despite yourself.

"Oh, dear." The one who'd touched you pulled away immediately. "I'm sorry, we should have warned you." A soft smile, a gentle hand tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "We need to prepare you for this evening. These oils are to get you ready."

Get you ready?

"What does that…" You licked your lips and tried again. "What does that mean?"

But they didn't explain. Instead, someone held a bottle of oil up to your nose, allowing you to take a whiff.

Your mouth watered. Arousal rolled through you like thunder, and your knees went weak. Unable to utter another word of protest, you allowed your eyelids to flutter closed and surrendered yourself to their ministrations. Hands smoothed over your skin, gliding across your tummy and down your legs; fingers slipping between the globes of your ass and over your nipples.

Fuck, you were so turned on you could scarcely breathe.

They touched you everywhere. The soles of your feet, the backs of your knees, under your armpits. You were eased down onto your back on the dais, and the others followed you down. And that was when you felt it.

Long, confident fingers slipped between your legs and deep into your drenched cunt.

You should have been surprised. No one had mentioned anything about this. And yet, you knew that you would rather bite off your own tongue than tell them to stop. Instead, you spread your legs further, granting them further access to your supine body.

"That's it," someone murmured from just behind you. "We're to prepare your whole body."

"It is our god's will," someone else said, just to your right. They rolled your nipples between clever fingers.

"Yes," you moaned. "Yes, please."

An eternity seemed to pass.

An infinite number of hands caressed your body, spreading the oil and your own wetness across your skin. They even lubed up your asshole, deft fingers playing with the tight muscle until your body slowly came to accept the intrusion, and then become greedy for it. Soon both holes were grasping greedily at the fingers inside them, trying to suck them in deeper.

The pleasure built… and built… and built…

But they wouldn't let you climax.

Slowly, one by one, they pulled away from you. You whimpered and mewled in protest, earning soft chuckles. Someone pressed a soft kiss to your mouth, their tits brushing briefly against yours.

"Hush, little one," they murmured. "The sun is about to set. You're to meet our almighty now." They felt you stiffen, and laughed softly. "Do not be afraid. You are about to be blessed beyond measure. Just be patient."

The words barely penetrated the haze of lust. You lifted your head to watch as the others walked away. And as they disappeared, you knew that it would be so easy to reach down and touch yourself, to bring yourself to orgasm. It was tempting, beyond tempting, with how aroused you were.

But it felt… wrong, somehow.

So rather than reach down to strum your throbbing clit, you took up where the others had left off, massaging the oil deeper into your skin. You'd reached down to cup your tits, kneading your aching flesh, when you heard something unexpected.

The sound of sloshing water.

Fear threatened to pierce through the arousal.

You levered yourself up on your elbows just in time to watch as the first tentacle emerged from the pool. And then another…

… and another…

… until you were surrounded by them.

The beginnings of terror skittered down your spine. You parted your lips as a scream built up in your throat. But some base part of you… recognised the creature. Even though it's body—undoubtedly massive—was still hidden beneath the surface of the pool, you knew what this was.

This was your god, the one you'd been chosen to serve.

And so, instead of a scream, a whisper slipped past your lips.

"Please."

That was all it took. Cold tentacles coated in some kind of viscous fluid slithered around your wrists and ankles, spreading your legs apart and bringing your arms up over your head. The creature was incomprehensibly strong, impossible for even a hundred men to fight back against.

But you had no interest in resisting. Instead, your rapt gaze tried to take in everything at once, even your arousal eclipsed by your curiosity. The tentacles ranged in size from no wider than your pinky to as thick as your forearm. It was impossible to tell what colour they were, with the low light in the cave glistening off the creature's skin in a rainbow of different hues.

However, none of that was the most fascinating thing about the creature.

No. That distinction belonged to whatever substance it was secreting from its skin. Your skin tingled everywhere the creature touched, like flashes of pleasure zapping across your flesh and centering in your drenched cunt. Parts of your body you'd never given much thought to—the curve of your waist, your collar bone, your arch of your feet—all became erogenous zones.

Every slide of the creature's skin against yours sent pleasure zinging through you. It was like nothing you'd ever experienced before. You basked in your god's love, absorbing it deep into your pores.

And that was when you felt a slender tendril curl around one of your aching nipples. You cried out, and the sound echoed through the cavern.

It was divine ecstasy. You wanted to feel it everywhere. And so, following some instinct you didn't quite understand, you arched your back and parted your thighs as much as you could, wordlessly encouraging the creature to continue its exploration of your body.

The response was immediate. Most of the larger tentacles had been hovering around you while the smaller, more nimble appendages crept along your bare form. Now, the larger tentacles swarmed you, wrapping around your waist, curling around your thighs…

And plunging into your soaked cunt.

Yes.

Your orgasm was almost instantaneous. A shocked, ecstatic cry tore itself free from your throat, only to be cut off by another tentacle pressing past your lips and down your throat.

The taste…

Ambrosia.

How had you lived without this for so long? You slurped hungrily on the tentacle, desperate to get your fill and utterly convinced that you never would. The syrupy taste of the tentacle almost eclipsed the pleasure flooding through your body from the tentacle pumping into your pussy. It made your head swim, and you were grateful for the tentacles holding you in place, or you feared you would have floated up to the ceiling.

An impossible number of tentacles surrounded you. The smaller ones zeroed in on the parts of your body that were most sensitive; the hollow of your throat, the back of your neck, your nipples, your clit.

And all the while, the ones in your cunt pistoned in and out of your body, stretching you impossibly wide. The sounds they made as they slid through your pussy was obscene, a beautiful harmony to the helpless grunts that escaped your throat despite the tentacle in your mouth.

Greedy, you tried to absorb it all, tried to etch every sensation into your memory.

Little did you realise that that was only the beginning.

The tentacles inside your pussy slowly withdrew, as did the one in your mouth, leaving you utterly bereft. It was agony, and you had to be the worst kind of sinner to deserve such a fate. An agonised wail tore itself free from your throat, and you thrashed in a desperate attempt to coax the creature back inside you.

It did not leave you to suffer for long.

With little ceremony, the creature stuffed another tentacle down your throat, and oh. It was one of the same tentacles that had been buried in your cunt. Your taste mingled with the sweetness from the creature's skin, utterly delicious. Another orgasm rippled through you, making you shudder and gasp and arch your hips, fucking up into nothing.

The creature accepted your wordless invitation. Another tentacle invaded your cunt, this one as thick as your forearm; you felt an insistent pressure at your rear entrance and knew that it was only a matter of time before another tentacle began fucking your ass. The smaller tentacles continued to toy with your nipples and clit, flicking over the sensitive buds until you saw stars.

And yet, despite how exquisite it all felt… you wanted more. You needed more.

And so, you received.

The creature picked up it's pace, fucking you harder and faster and deeper. You could feel the tip of its tentacle bumping up against your cervix, and a crazy thought flashed through your mind.

You wanted it to come inside you.

Fuck.

Eyes rolling back just imagining it, you sucked harder on the tentacle in your mouth, glutting yourself on its taste as though you that would convince the creature to empty its loads into you. The idea should have horrified you; that much come from a creature this size… it was impossible. You'd burst.

You need it like you needed your next breath.

The tentacle at your asshole finally pressed inside you. You'd never been so full; you never wanted to be left empty again. Helplessly, you clenched around the creature as yet another orgasm rolled through you.

It was all too much. Darkness encroached at the edges of your vision, and you surrendered gladly to escape the almost excruciating pleasure.

You weren't sure how long you'd blacked out for. Was it the wet, slapping sounds of the creature fucking your holes that woke you, or the next round of orgasms wracking your body?

None of it mattered.

Because the tentacle in your mouth—fucking your throat with a delicious gluk gluk gluk—had swollen, and the secretion from its skin had coated the roof of your mouth and the back of your tongue and—

More of the sweet liquid spurted from its tip and poured down your throat. It threatened to choke you; precious drops leaked from the corners of your mouth as you struggled to drink it all down. You knew that if you could, you'd have wailed in protest at the loss. Instead, you focused on gulping down as much as the syrupy fluid as you could.

You were so focused on the tentacle in your mouth that you almost missed the strange, fluttering sensation at your cervix. Something… something was entering your womb. Was the creature coming inside of you?

But you didn't have any time to ponder what was happening. Come was being pumped into your mouth and ass as you shuddered through yet another orgasm.

The creature fucking you was relentless. It seemed determined to see you filled to the brim, and as soon as one tentacle pulled out of one your soaked holes, another took its place. The tentacle in your cunt, so deliciously, agonisingly thick, finally pulled out, and more immediately swarmed to take its place.

Had you been more lucid, you may have wanted to take a look at that tentacle, to wonder how it differed from the others. But coherent thought was beyond you now. All you cared about was being a receptacle to your god's pleasure, to being filled up with its most holy essence.

You lost count of the number of times you came. By now, the tentacles that had been holding your wrists and ankles had released their grip; you were too come drunk to even lift your head, let alone resist. Those tentacles took their turn fucking you and coming inside your limp body.

How long had it been since you'd entered the cave? Hours? Days? Your belly was round and swollen from number of loads that had been pumped into you. The air smelled like sex and cum and sweat, a heady mixture that you breathed deep into your lungs. There was a puddle beneath you, a mixture of your juices and the creature's come that had spilled from your swollen cunt with each tentacle that fucked you and added to it.

You never wanted to leave this place.

But light was beginning to spill into the cave. The sun was coming up.

Your night of divine sacrifice was coming to an end. The creature seemed to sense it as well. Slowly, one by one, the tentacles withdrew from where they surrounded you and back into the water, until only the one in your mouth remained. As awful as losing the ones in your cunt and asshole had been, the thought of this tentacle leaving you was almost unbearable.

Nursing hungrily on the tentacle—as though you hadn't glutted yourself on its come the whole night—you didn't notice the sound of footsteps until the others had stopped just before the dais.

There were gasps and whispers. You felt giddy at the prospect of them seeing you service your god this way, and weakly spread your legs so that they might see the your soaked, puffy holes.

At last, the creature extracted its final tentacle from your slackened mouth and disappeared back into the pond.

You were beyond exhausted by now, and so uncomfortably full of come that you thought you might die from it. Despite all that, you reached up a trembling hand to rub your belly. If only there were a way too keep all of this inside you forever.

Finally, the others joined you up on the dais. Their expressions were awestruck.

"It's never stayed past sunrise before," someone murmured. "It's a miracle."

They hurried over to you and gentle hands helped you to sit up. Your skin was coated in come, and it made it difficult for them to keep a hold of you. You wanted to lick the taste of your god from their fingers.

"I want… I want m… more," you whispered in a hoarse voice. If you were able, you'd have crawled into the pond in search of the creature. Exhaustion rolled over you in a wave; your eyelids were so heavy.

There were soft chuckles around you, and you basked in the warmth of the sound as the others surrounded you to lift you to your feet. It took two of them to support your weight. Come dribbled from your cunt and down onto the dais, making a soft dripping sound. You mourned the loss of every precious drop.

"I, uh, I don't…" You licked your lips and could still taste the creature there. "I don't think I can… I can w… walk."

"Don't fret," a voice murmured just behind your shoulder. You felt them tuck a sweaty strand of hair behind your ear. "All we need to do is get you outside. Do you think you can make it that far?"

I'll try, you wanted to say. But you were so tired. So you simply nodded, allowing the others to guide you as you shuffled forward on unsteady legs.

You didn't remember the trip down the mountain; you didn't remember entering your home. The last thing you were aware of before unconsciousness pulled you under was someone brushing a feather light kiss across your brow, and a soft whisper in your ear.

You speed up, and you hear him do the same. You glance back, and see he's gaining on you. He knows you're onto him now; he has no reason to be stealthy. Your house is only a block away, but at this pace he might catch up with you before then. . .

You break into a sprint. There's no use pretending now, this is a pursuit and you don't intend to be caught. You hear him give chase behind you, but you don't waste time on looking back. You get your keys ready as you run, so when you arrive at the door you have it open in five seconds flat.

Then he crashes into you. You fall together to the carpeted floor of your front hallway. He's on top of you, pinning you down, kicking the door closed behind him. You struggle, but he's surprisingly powerful for an IT guy; he pushes your head into the ground, rubbing the side of your face raw against the carpet as he roughly kisses your neck. He's grinding against your ass, and you can feel through his pants how hard he is. That's when you finally start screaming.

He hikes up your pencil skirt, grunting with sick lust. You beg him to leave you alone, tell him you'll give him money, give him whatever he wants. He pulls your panties aside, and you feel his lips brush your ear as he leans in close.

"All I want is you."

He rapes you raw, ramming his cock again and again into your unlubricated pussy. You scream in pain and fear and disgust, and soon he's taking you by the hips and pulling you into him, burying his cock as deep as it'll go as he fills you up with his foul seed. You stay there for a moment, the two of you: him savoring the feel of your pussy, you too broken to stop him. Then he pulls out, and moments later you hear the front door open and shut.

The guy goes to jail, eventually. You manage to scrape yourself off the floor, call the police. It's obvious to look at you that you've been assaulted, and the guy didn't bother to cover his tracks. At some point someone swabs your vagina, which is humiliating, but at that point you're too out of it to care much. When the case goes to court, the guy pleads guilty, says he knew there'd be consequences, but he decided it'd be worth it. He shoots you a wink across the courtroom. Says he was right.

You used to masturbate regularly. Just a bit of fun, a way to relax after a long day at work. You try it a few times after the incident, maybe trying to reclaim ownership of your own body, but it no longer seems to do anything for you. You use your fingers, your vibrators, your dildo, but none of them work. You can still feel them, you know they should feel good, but touching your pussy now feels no different than touching your hand. Any sensation of sexual pleasure is gone.

But you're still horny. Maybe hornier than you were before. Your pussy gets wet at nothing, and something deep in your groin aches for an orgasm. Trying to make yourself cum becomes almost an obsession. You spend hours every evening watching every variety of porn you can find, going to town on yourself with every toy in your arsenal, and some new ones you pick up just to try. You pick up guys in bars, fuck them in bathrooms or back alleys, but each encounter just ends with you moaning performatively, telling them how good they feel, and letting them cum inside you just to get it over with. After six months you're so horny that you sometimes have trouble thinking straight, and you've pretty much resigned yourself to the fact that you're unlikely ever to cum again.

And then a man gropes you on the street.

It's broad daylight. You were already getting a bad vibe from him before he crossed the street, and now he's walking next to you, talking to you, asking if you want to go on a date, asking why you don't want to talk to him. Then, without warning, his hand is up your skirt, fingers snaking past your panties, violating you.

You have to press your knees together not to cum right there.

A few passersby pull him off you, throw him to the ground, someone is calling the police. But you don't have time to wait for the police. You have to get somewhere private, now. You duck into the nearest alley, crouch behind a dumpster to block the view from the street, and begin to masturbate furiously. Your fingers come away sloppy and wet, but you feel absolutely nothing. You cover your face with your hands and scream with frustration.

You try not to think about it. For a few long weeks you try to justify it, explain it away, but you know what you felt, and you know in your heart what finally did it. You wonder if it's even worth it, if an orgasm or two is really all that great, but you can't deny the affect this inability to cum is having your life: your work is slipping, your relationships deteriorating. You're lost in fantasies, imagining elaborate scenarios that might make you cum, knowing they never would. The more you think about it, the more you think you don't have any other choice.

One night you take the bus to a bad part of town. You leave your wallet, your keys, everything but the bus fare, at home. You wear an outfit you bought just for this: a skirt that barely covers three fourths of your ass. A shirt that flatters your cleavage, and lets your hard nipples poke out of the fabric. You consider going without panties, but you worry if you give too much invitation it won't work. You hope to god no one you know sees you like this; it's probably more skin than you've revealed publicly since you were a baby.

You walk past three men standing on a street corner. They whistle at you, invite you to let them show you a good time, but you keep walking. Your heart races as you hear them take up stride behind you; it's not that you want to be raped again, per se. You're terrified of being raped, in fact. But you need so desperately to cum that you're willing to ignore the fear, the humiliation, the pain. Tears stream down your face as you turn into an alley and quickly find it ends in a dead end. You turn around to face the men, who now block your exit.

"Come on, baby, you don't have to be like that," say the man in front. He looks like the oldest of the three, has a big bald spot and a belly that hangs over his belt. The other two are a little younger: one is broad and muscular and covered in tattoos, the other scrawny and nervous.

Without a word you approach the older man, one step at a time, trying not to let your knees wobble or your lips quiver. He snickers and makes a joke to his cronies, but you don't hear it—all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears. You get in close, face to face with him, and he purses his lips in a taunting mock kiss. You spit full force in his face.

He wheels back, wiping his face. The other men look shocked, unsure exactly what to do, but he knows what to do. He knows exactly what to do. "You fucking bitch!" He's grabbing you by the throat, throwing you up against the wall, holding a knife to your throat. "You want to act like a cunt?" He lifts up your tiny skirt. "Then cunt is all you're good for."

It's like fireworks through your body the moment his fingers are in your pussy. You clench around him, involuntarily willing him further inside. An exultant moan forces itself through your lips before you can even think. This is not like any fingering ever was before, by your own hand or someone else's. This is a new height of pleasure, and you have a feeling this is only the beginning.

"This little slut is into it," says the man, almost in wonder. He turns to the scrawny guy. "Keep watch. This bitch needs to be taught a lesson."

He takes you by the neck again and throws you to the ground. You take a few ugly scrapes from the gravely asphalt, but you know now that this pain is minor compared to the reward it'll earn you. At the older man's instruction the tattooed guy holds you down, one hand holding both wrists over your head, the other pinning you to the ground by your throat. You struggle to breath, unable even to turn your head to see what's going on, but you don't need to wait long.

This rape is better than the last one. You never thought you'd be comparing rapes like some kind of connoisseur, but there it is. Face up is marginally more comfortable face down, and starting with your pussy already wet makes a world of difference. The older man has to lift his belly to get inside you, and once he's in he lets it roll over you like a smelly, hairy pillow. The feeling of him inside you is incredible. You thought you liked sex, but now you realize you had no idea what it was. You moan wildly, uncontrollably, and the more pleasure you feel the angrier your rapist gets. He thrusts like he's trying to beat you senseless, but it just makes it better, and before long you're cumming harder than you've ever cum in your life, screaming in ecstasy and thrashing violently against is pelvis. Maybe it's the motion, or maybe it's your pussy squeezing like it'll never let him go, but the man gives a strangled groan and shoots warm, lovely cum into the darkest recesses of your body.

You're still panting when the older man says to the other, "you gotta try this bitch." They trade places, and now the older man is holding you down, but he isn't as strong as other guy, so he has to hold his knife to your throat. The tattooed guy's cock is bigger than the other's, and the moment it's past your pussy lips you know you're going to cum again. This rape is harder; the guy has less to move, so he's able to pound you faster. You feel like his cock is splitting you open with every thrust, but the pain isn't really even pain anymore. It's just another part of the building orgasm. The knife nicks your skin (he's having trouble holding it still with all the thrashing you're doing) and you just squeal with delight. You're approaching another climax, so without really thinking about it you wrap your legs around the guy's waist and drive him right into you down to the balls, eyes rolling back as he fills you with your second load in the last ten minutes. He lets out a surprisingly soft whimper and runs his hands over your thighs, as if enjoying their softness.

The old guy calls the last one over, the scrawny one with the uncomfortable look on his face. The old guy tells him to fuck you. He looks nervously at you, and then back at his leader. Just to play with him, you start begging him, pleading him to let you go. "Don't do this to me. Please, I'm sorry, I won't tell anyone, please just let me go!" He looks like he's going to refuse until the old guy presses the knife into your neck, drawing a thin stripe of wet pain across your skin.

Stammering apologies, the guy pulls out his cock and climbs over you. You don't let him look away from your eyes, begging and telling him you know he's better than this, please, you know he's not like them, and he's inside you and you're screaming. Screaming like a rabbit caught in a trap, a long, piercing scream that erupts into uncontrollable fits of giddy laughter as you mount your third orgasm of the night.

You feel crazy. You feel like a feral animal. Some part of you wonders if you'll be able to go back to normal, go back to work tomorrow like none of this happened. The scrawny guy's cock is surprisingly big; it fills you up real nice. But he's not going hard enough. This is hardly even rape, it's just a sad fuck. You pull your tits out over the low-cut neckline of your shirt, give him something to look at, but all that happens is his cock gets a little harder. You need more.

Before you even quite know what you're doing, you throw yourself up at him. The knife cuts you as the old guy loses his grip on it, but you don't care. You roll on top of the scrawny guy and start fucking him like you need to be fucked, hard and fast and angry. In the spur of the moment you put your hand on his neck and bear down, watching his eyes bulge and his mouth open and close like a goldfish. You're just getting the idea that you should bite into his shoulder, tear something off him, when a pair of muscular arms hook under your armpits and pull you back.

You lose your grip on his neck, but the animal part of you refuses to give up his cock. Your legs lock underneath him, dragging him with you as the tattooed man tries to pull you away. He's close, you can feel it in the rhythm of his throbbing cock. Just a few more gyrations and. . .

When he explodes inside you it's like you can feel his cum swirling through your entire body, filling you up from the bottom to the top. A satisfied warmth washes over you and you let him go, torrents of cum pouring out of you in his wake.

The arms drop you and the scrawny man fumbles to get his pants up. "This bitch is fucking crazy!" says the tattooed man behind you, and before you know it all three of them are stumbling out of the alley.