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“Uncuff her,” he ordered.
Hector responded quickly—he didn’t like seeing her stung up that long. Loosening the pulleys, he then unlocked the cuffs so Miles could carry her to bed.
Yet, when Miles withdrew from her ass, it was torture—she wanted him to orgasm inside her, fuck with the passion and fervor she could feel present in his hungering body, to fuck her harder than Martine had with the dildo, to open her widely and demand her complete submission.
“On the bottom man,” Miles ordered the photographer, “take her cunt.”
Hector returned the camera to the tripod and scampered to the bed. Pushing his pants from his hips, his stiff dick was ready. Tessa grabbed it lustily, not thinking of pain anymore, only of the heady lust that inspired the moment. Taking the enormous purple head between her lips, her tongue swirled about the head, while her nostrils breathed in the pungent fragrance of her lover.
“God, yes, you slutty whore!” She ran her tongue along the sensitive rim and listened to him gasp, “Damn yes!”
Miles pulled the two apart, pushing Hector to the bed and Tessa over his hips. S
he dangled her breasts against his chest, then over his face where he buried his nose between the fleshy orbs and smelled the sweat and perfume that lingered there. He kissed her, his mouth devouring the surfaces of her skin as if they were rare delicacies.
A moment later, Hector’s cock thrust up and forward, finding the succulent opening of her cunt, while she relaxed down on him, wiggling against his groin with a little-girl giggle.
“Ooo, so big,” she purred, as she squeezed the shaft with her inner muscles.
He thrust deeper still, “You’ll see just how big,” he warned her. He was beginning to rock against the bed, slamming himself into her, in seconds, the two frantically screwing to a hip-banging end.
“Not yet,” Miles ordered before they could climax.
“Ah, Miles, you’re torturing me,” Tessa protested. She eased for a moment, churning languidly on Hector’s prick, while Miles climbed in behind her thighs and positioned his erection against the opening of her anus.
“My gawd, it won’t fit!”
But he proved her wrong, as his tumescent organ slid into her well-worked hole.
“Yeeeeahhhhhh!” It was not so much painful, as it was overwhelming, split in two—not like she’d been split by the whip or the bamboo—but spilt in the deepest part of her body; filled full, impaled, ripped, as if she’d be rent in two by these two lovers.
The cocks moved in a cautious unison. It was a fragile entry for them both; the wrong move and one would be suddenly withdrawn.
“Aaaaaahhhhhh yes,” Tessa moaned as she managed them both. “Ohmigod, yessssssssssssssssssss! Goddam, fuck meeeee! Fuck, dammit fuck!”
She wiggled, she squirmed, she let them ride her nasty until they were on the brink of cumming. Hector came first; his cock detonating inside her while Miles held off waiting. The friction of one against the other tore her to the fibers of her being, requiring every bit of her strength and concentration to focus.
“Goddam, you nasty bitch fuck me!” the photographer screamed as pain and ecstasy leapt across his face in an impassioned scowl, and he exploded. Tessa responded, bearing down to milk the cum from him.
A sassy look of gaiety filled her face, as she saw Hector’s grimace and listened to the wails of pleasure that rose to greet her ears in an unending stream of four letter exclamations.
“Damn fuck meeeee!” he ordered her one more time, and she bore down harder until his body finally went limp beneath her. Remaining where he was, the photographer enjoyed the sensuous aftermath of orgasm, while Miles began to move in earnest inside Tessa’s ass.
“Ahhhhhh…Ah, ah, ah!” she panted, feeling an unexpected sensation grip her entire body. Raped in the rear with a cock in her cunt, she thought her body would break. “God yes, you ass!” she screamed.
Miles’ cock moved with incredible ease inside her bottom. She would never have thought she’d be so open, accepting, willing, encouraging of this vile taking. He came quickly, groaning from the pit of his stomach as he spasmed and the tight channel milked him dry in seconds. Finished, he collapsed heavily against her.
For an instant there was a strange quiet in the garret—no moans, no cries, no pleasured exclamations. In Tessa’s cunt, a gentle rain of spasms echoed through her body. She moved her hips as best she could. The two cocks spasmed—aftershocks.
She jerked and jerked again, and a dozen times more on the way to her climax. Her mind was elsewhere, beyond the room, on her way to sexual heaven perhaps. But lost, only the sensation mattered, only the cocks in her crotch, and the delicate and savage sensations that alternated there.
Unexpectedly, Miles withdrew from her and she felt his absence as pain—and a nasty interruption of her finish. “Please don’t leave,” she cried, though she was already collapsing into the dark sheets next to Hector’s hairy body.
The photographer reached to her cunt and began to play, while Miles reached deep with his fingers to where his cock had been. They knew she had not yet peaked, that her body was clamoring against the sheets, against anything that would finally bring her off. And within seconds a long rolling finish commenced, her body tightened and relaxed, tightened and relaxed again, until she languished into a gentle unthinking calm.
She awoke with Miles lapping at her earlobes.
Her body ached. For a time she couldn’t understand why her arms and chest were so terribly sore. But as Miles began to massage her upper body, she remembered with vivid accuracy that she’d been strung up nearly an hour, maybe more. She couldn’t be sure since she’d lost track of time.
