He pulled his fingers away. His cock slid from its home between my legs. And everyone moved. What was happening? Urgency raced through me, my hips bucking and my knees spreading.
Somebody stepped in front of me. A wet finger slid over my lips. The scent of my sex mixed with his masculinity—the most intoxicating combo ever.
His cock had to be within reach, but I was relieved that the restraints took away any expectation.
Heat washed over me when I caught the tip of my tongue darting out for a taste. He met my request, pushing between my lips, encouraging me to suck as he slid his digit back and forth.
Why did I enjoy that so much? Why did my face lean forward as he pulled out? He dragged it from my mouth, down my neck, and onto my back where I realized he was drawing a heart.
Then they shifted again, and a finger came to my lips. I’m pretty sure it was the same finger as before but this time, it wasn’t just my scent. It included a musky scent. I stood corrected… that was the most intoxicating scent ever.
But he didn’t play with my mouth as long this time. His finger trailed to the corner of my lips, onto my cheek, leaving a wet trail, and then he let go.
As much as I wanted to see what they were doing, I was overwhelmed by how much I loved surrendering.
A hand slid over my bottom again, giving a gentle slap, then the fingers continued downward, touching my sex from behind. A moment of sliding over my damp curls came to an end when he gently eased a finger inside of me.
My thighs reflexively squeezed around his hand. The warmth of his finger inside of me, and the way he curled it to drive me crazy, had my insides tightening, finally able to come with one of them inside of me.
But before I could, another hand swatted my bottom, drawing my attention, and followed with the same motion, causing me to spread my legs a little further. When he entered, the pressure from the two of them had me working hard to breathe.
And the third guy slid his hand between the bench and me, entering my sex from the front. The stretch burned, like theymight split me in half, but I had to take them this way or I’d never be able to take their thick cocks.
Their grumbles and groans threatened to form words, but they seemed to detour their thoughts into caresses with their free hands, stroking and fisting my hair… which unlocked my hair-pulling kink.
They tenderly rubbed my arms, my back, anything to show their affection, which perfectly matched my needs.
Then slowly, completely in sync, they began pistoning their fingers in and out of me. Three different angles. Three different pressure points. Three different men. Three different versions of me.
That might be why the orgasm that ripped through me felt three times as huge as any I’d ever given myself. The surge of all-consuming ecstasy formed stars and colors in my blindfolded eyes. My body tensed and shook and then did it all over again until I was spent.
I sank into the padded leather of the spanking bench, my arms draping against the restraints, my body warmed by their continued touches even after they pulled their fingers out to give me a break.
My sex was empty but sated, and this was just the beginning. I couldn’t really say we hadn’t even gotten to the good part yet because I’d never diminish what just happened. But if their fingers were that good…
The thought must have flitted away in the bliss because gentle movements left me feeling like ages had passed.
One of them positioned himself behind me, kissing my hip, my cheeks, and my lower back, before righting himself and nestling his swollen tip at my entrance.
He took his time, possibly for himself, possibly for me. Either way, it made me hungrier and hungrier to find out how a cock would feel inside of me.
Pressing forward, he parted my lips and stretched my sex. In a smooth motion, he thrust the tip in, causing the burn to flare while his thick head entered me. Then he stilled, let me get used to him, and muttered something—that if I wasn’t so obsessed with how good he felt in me—would have sounded like Atlas begging for sweet mercy.
Was I feeling the same thing? I didn’t want to do it wrong, but the intense urgency created by not moving made it hard to follow his lead.
His fingers dug into my hips as he started moving himself in small strokes. That was a more bearable pleasure.
A voice from beside me was almost inaudible. “What’s your color?”
“Green.” But I wasn’t sure I’d gotten enough air behind it to make a sound. I didn’t want them to worry. “Green,” I said again with more effort.
“Thank you.”
Maybe I heard that, maybe I made it up. I wasn’t sure since a hand rubbed the side of my squished breast.
The slow strokes teaching me what heaven felt like continued, but the man beside me was encouraging me onto my elbows, which required help with my wrists being bound.
Once I was stable, warm breath covered my hardened nipple. A tongue swiped the side of my breast, ending on the tight bud. My nipples hardened to the point of aching. It made my sex tighten even more on the shaft that filled me.
