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“Yeah, like that, you’re gonna suck me in,” comes a voice behind my ear. I realize I’m lying on top of someone, with hands around my waist gently guiding the invading sensation. Somehow, it’s perfect. Before I’ve even had anybody’s dick in my mouth or finger in my pussy, somebody’s cock is splitting open my asshole.
Little by little, millimeter by millimeter, it goes deeper. I feel like I’m choking on it, like it’s almost impossible to fit, but then when it withdraws, I want it back inside me. It’s so naughty, I want so much more of it.
“Not too greedy now,” the voice coaches. “Let me do all the work.”
The world tips over as my body is shifted, rearranged so that I am on my stomach. I feel a tongue slide across the back of my knee, another body part—maybe a dick—is under my right arm, pumping in and out. The weight over me is almost crushing, and yet I want more. I can feel their warm, furry frames sliding along mine, as each man uses some part of me to give and receive pleasure. Hands close over mine with a cock against my palm and I’m jerking somebody off while someone else slides another dick underneath me, almost but not quite touching my pussy lips.
Still, in the middle of it all there is a cock in my ass. That alone obliterates my ability to speak, my brain’s ability to form thoughts all the way. All I could think about is that filthy sensation, taking me higher and higher, until I realize I’m coming from a part of me I never knew I had. I’m coming and coming, screaming into the fur pelt below me, only vaguely aware that they are coming too, baptizing me in their sticky, saltwater-warm fluid.
It’s sensory overload, and I can’t even open my eyes. I don’t know who came where, and it doesn’t matter. Like some kind of mythical creature, we are knotted together, inseparable, all riding together on the same sea of bliss.
Our moans fill the air as we lie in a pile, panting and groaning for a long time. Someone leaves and I hear the sound of running water in the bathroom. When they return I feel some new, warm sensation and realize I’m being washed with a cloth.
“Just start the bath, Liam,” a voice suggests and I feel the mattress shift again as Liam heads off.
I’m still barely conscious when I feel myself being lifted again and carried across the room. Everything comes sharply back into focus when I am lowered into the big, warm bath, filled to the brim from six generous, carved fountains.
“Here, get her on the ledge,” someone says.
Their hands guide me to sitting on a marble bench under the water line. Now I am fully conscious, though I can barely believe this isn’t still a dream. All five men join me in the nearly-hot water. Steam fills the room as we all settle against the gentle jets to soak in the luxurious tub.
“Did you arrange all this too?” I ask Timothy. “A bathtub big enough for six people?”
“It was a challenge,” he admits with a smile as he tugs at my arm, extending it. With rapt attention, he moves a soapy cloth along my skin, bathing me tenderly. Shivers course up and down my body.
“Are you cold?” Jake asks, concern shading his features. With his hair slicked back, I can see his handsome features better and wonder briefly what he looks like beneath the beard. Then I banish the thought. Jake and a beard just go together.
“I’m not cold at all,” I murmur as I slide closer to him, barely restraining myself from curling up on his lap again. I don’t want to make anyone think he is my favorite. I need to train myself to divide my affection equally, I realize.
“Just
let us know. We can adjust the temperature,” Kill assures me as he brushes away a pile of bubbles from my ear.
“Everything is perfect,” I smile, reaching forward to kiss him slowly. Then for good measure, I kiss each man one by one, savoring the tiny differences in their tastes and textures. I’ve never done anything like this, and it is delightful how having five different tongues in my mouth is starting to seem like exactly the right amount.
“Really,” I sigh as I settle back, allowing them all to scrub and loofah me into oblivion, “absolutely perfect.”
Chapter 12
Carty
At first, I don’t think she hears me knocking on her door. I wait for a few moments, then gently knock a couple more times. I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to break down the door, but it is a large room.
When I hear her say “Come in” I’m filled with relief again.
The room is half lit, with the automatic windows set to fifty percent. I’m impressed to see that she has already mastered some of our technological assets. After my eyes adjust, I can just make out her smiling form in the middle of the bed.
“Coming to join me?” she asks sweetly. “Just you? I thought that was against the rules. It will take me all day to make sure everybody gets what’s coming to them if we do this.”
Her thoughtfulness makes me blush. I really do appreciate that she has given some thought to pleasuring all of us equally.
“First of all,” I clear my throat, trying to stay on track, “I was coming to ask if you wanted some breakfast. But then, I think we already slept through breakfast. Would you like some lunch?”
She throws one arm over her head and smiles with her eyes closed, luxuriously arching her back. In the white satin nightgown, I can just barely make out the outlines of her voluptuous, perfect form. Even that sweet, russet triangle of her pubic hair stands out in subtle relief under the nearly translucent fabric.
“Am I hungry?” she muses, her voice thick with sleep and satisfaction. Over the last few days, we have barely left her alone. Everything we have asked of her, she has done willingly. And she doesn’t seem to be cracking under the strain or anything. She is as sturdy and pliable as the moment I met her.
“I could bring you strawberries… Coffee… Maybe some yogurt with flaxseed and vanilla?”
