It was too late to change my mind. They had seen me naked, walking into this room. This had their attention, and I did not care for their faces or bodies. I craved cock, long ones, short ones, fat fuck tools to bend my mind. Nothing else mattered, and I needed the devil off my back.

Matte-black-painted walls with four rectangular holes separated me from them. The sounds of fucking spiked by lust and all its sharp edges. If you saw me in public, you would never guess. Now, I was in here, alone. My fingers breached my soaked hole. I was hungry, eager for that bittersweet confection being pumped down my throat, in my cunt… up my slutty ass.

I had to delete this need and define my lingering fantasy. It maddened me, the one thing that turned me into a demented whore with any lover. I wanted to suck cock until my jaw ached, take them hard in my holes and feel them twitch. I yearned to be sated, numb, and so fuck drunk I could live my everyday life again.

They did not disappoint me; the first was so vicious, rock hard with a spherical ballsack in urgent need of relief. It glistened with my saliva, taken deep enough to rouse a stifled groan. The second was in my hand, being stroked, firm, and thick. I had plans for that one.

My first was young from its velvet skin and the feel of hard steel in my mouth. I would show it respect, licking it, my tongue circling its corpulent head. The vacuum of my full lips and silky mouth plunged to take it all – yes, deep-throated, remember me; hopefully, this is your first. Knocking on the wall, he delivered it where I wanted, large gouts of seed swallowed loudly, gulped down with pride. His deep bass groans were as much a tribute as the satin texture of his spunk.

Number Three poked through, and he felt my desire in my languid, delicate caress. The rigid thick one reappeared; Number Two, it was sheathed.

Oh no, not that.

Reaching behind me, I rolled it off. Keeping a firm grasp, I steered it towards my throbbing cunt. In there, breach me, drive that fucker home and do me. I had to gasp as it invaded my snug hole with Number Three in my hand.

My body sang, pressed against the wall, and he fucked me. I did not want fluid thrusts; I needed to be ploughed. The wall provided the perfect barrier; there were no mighty shoves, so he had to charm my cunt in other ways. He did, hitting that spot, raising my loudest moans.

Number Three, happy by being stroked, reached his denouement. Easily pleased, I gave him my mouth as his reward for those final seconds. He twitched hard, filling my mouth with a copious load. I knew his kink; save it for days and blast it into some anonymous whore.

So happy to oblige.

It dribbled out; I could not swallow it as Number Two almost brought me to the point of climax. I latched onto Number Four, being done at both ends, and he fucked my mouth. Sawing almost in turn, simultaneously, or at random, this was it; I was a slut. It barrelled through me as I tried to cry out, squeezing and clamping on the stud that nailed my cunt. He knocked on the wall; I was not going anywhere. Pull out, or shoot it up me.

He painted my orgasmic muscular walls.

Number Four made me blink: it was dark, chunky, and long. Its curve needed me on tiptoes, and he was going straight into my sopping box. He had no qualms, driving it into my extra slick cunt. Fuck, I saw stars. He had moves, and he had a gift. Unusual as they think such a weapon is carte blanche to hammer away – satisfaction guaranteed. No, he was magnificent. My mind buckled at the incredible assault of the dark destroyer forcing an urgent climax from me.

Then I spied Number Five, long, thinner, and totally rigid… perfect. This was it, revelling in being spit-roasted as a knock on the wall from Number Four called time. I eased back and forth on that gratifying meat. Bearing down, taking the last thrusts, he vented his seed, stretching my walls with swollen orgasmic meat. I stood on shaking legs, peering down, watching it splatter on the floor, feeling it trickle down my thighs.

I eased the jewelled plug from my behind, grasped Number Five’s shaft and lubed it. I rubbed it there; he got the message. I felt that ‘pop’, then the sudden burn of tight muscle. Yes… put it up there, slowly… slowly… perfect.

My elbow locked, braced against the opposite wall; this is what I craved. I had my fingers inside me, lost in the sensations. Backing onto him in time with his thrusts and the long travel of his shaft filled my tightest hole. My eyes squeezed closed during the ascent of what I needed. My swollen clit was on fire, adding more tension to the seething mass within. He could do what he liked as I croaked, calling out what I was, begging him to seal my fate.

As the room disappeared around me, I grunted hard, clamping with the intensity I needed. Yelling for the climax I craved, my legs shook, my arm buckled, and Number Five knocked on the wall. He pulsed; its hard twitches coalesced with my plight. So light-headed with its vicious power, my knees hit the floor as the last volley of cum splashed on my back. 

Braced against the wall, I was grateful it broke my fall. Still quivering, my mind was empty as my sweaty body pulsed with relief, oozing anonymous cum.

Number Six loomed into view, and I recognised it immediately.

You should not keep secrets from me, darling.

Now, I have my own, too.