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I can’t decide if it’s because the five of them are uncommonly attractive—the kind of men who belong on the poster of a movie—or because I decided to come here, knowing what would happen. Or maybe because Marius is downstairs in this house, aware of everything. Supporting it. Supportingme.
“You’re not going to need your clothes for this,” says Eriks, walking to his seat at the head of the table. “Drop them.”
I do as I’m told.
“Come here,” one of them says.
Marius helped me dress today. He told me it didn’t much matter what I had on for the upper layer, so I’m in a simple pale dress with a ruffled skirt. But he was adamant about me wearing plain underwear; it’s simple, sporty, and dark red.
Initially, I believed he wanted to turn them off, make me look boring. But the way all five pairs of eyes narrow on me, I’m not so sure anymore.
They like it. A lot.
“Loose the bra, darling,” the one whose name I don’t know drawls.
I unclip it and shrug it off nervously.
“Closer.” The order comes from Eriks; I would know even if I wasn’t looking. His voice is deep, dark, unyielding.
Light bathes the room, making this somewhat more deviant. No one does this kind of thing in broad daylight. It’s just too…unapologetic.
I approach Eriks, but as soon as I’m within reach, he shoves me back until my ass hits the table.
“Gentlemen, this is Sarah—the slut my son is fucking. And isn’t he thoughtful? He leant her to us for lunch.”
His friends chuckle as I flush at the insults.
“Sarah, meet Arlo, Augustus, Mael, and Adrian. Give us a good look, if you please.”
He pats my leg, ever so polite as he degrades me. I lift it, resting my foot on the edge of the table. It occurs to me that I’m mostly giving a good look tohim, until the other men get to their feet.
My entire body catches fire when I see every single one of them have opened their neatly ironed, expensive slacks and freed their cocks. Eriks is last to do so, sliding his zipper down as I watch.
Then I’m staring at five hard cocks.
It’s incredible, but every single one is huge. Is a cock over eight inches a requirement to make it to the board of their sick little club? The head of each member points straight at me, and I swallow, my throat dry.
They’re going to fuck me. That much is clear. At the back of my mind, I remember Marius’s assurances that there would be no penetration, but I doubt it.
“Can I touch your dirty little cunt, Sarah?” Eriks asks.
My pussy clenches, and I feel hoteverywhere. God, there’s something wrong with me. I should bedisgusted. Revolted. “Yes,” I whisper.
Marius’s father smiles. “It’s good you know your place, after all.”
And then it starts.
Hands on my tits. Pinching my nipples. Sliding from my inner thigh to my drenched folds.
I lean back a little on the table, whimpering.
I note that while Eriks is the only one to have asked for permission, he’s not touching me. Not yet. He’s watching, his fist around his heavy cock.
Fingers curve inside me and start to move fast, in and out, fucking me hard. Air escapes my mouth in a rush.
“Your cunt is strangling my fingers, pretty slut,” the stranger I’ve never spoken to assures me, lowering his face to mine and bringing the tip of his tongue to my skin. “You like this, don’t you?”
I do. I really do. They aren’t hurting me. Oh no. Their hands are moving purposely topleaseme.
