Is there truly any such thing as an amicable divorce? Robert and I told everyone that's what it was, but the truth was uglier than fiction. He wanted half the estate—said he was entitled to it—and I told the lazy bastard he could have it when he earned it.

We lawyered up and fought it out. I eventually let him take a quarter of it when I was fed up arguing. It drained me and I took the long days and longer nights of loneliness harder than I should. Blew off steam with my fingers and a selection of vibrators and butt plugs I'd amassed, twisting and groaning and gasping into an empty bedroom night after night until sleep and wanton dreams finally overcame me.

When the estate was sold and that weight was lifted from my shoulders, I bought a mid-price townhouse with enough garden for me to comfortably manage. Moving in kept me occupied for a while, but I quickly grew restless.

Bluntly, I missed sex.

Aside from the constant bickering, part of our split was that Robert simply didn't have the sex drive I needed. It was good but not good enough. We married too young and found ourselves sharing fewer and fewer common interests—ones we'd pretended to like when we first dated and kept up the charade until the cracks began to show—and it was yet another stake driven through our turbulent relationship.

Despite being regularly and emphatically horny, I was reluctant to throw myself headlong at another man immediately after we broke up. A friend told me that rebounds weren't the way to go, and I trusted Yasmin more than anyone, as she'd been through it.

But I craved the intimacy, no, not intimacy… I craved the freedom of being fucked. That complete abandonment of past and future, as everything but the moment is stripped away, condensed to a singularity where there's only the act that remains. I love losing myself in the intoxicating power of a man who knows how to wield it. And I've had a few since the divorce came through.

Fine, okay. I stepped out when separation seemed inevitable. Don't judge me. I sought freedom in the grips and cocks of strangers, chasing that delicious natural high, clutching and fucking and biting my way to a nirvana I wasn't getting at home.

Oh fine, okay. It might have been earlier than that. Don't judge me. The first was after we attended the Make-A-Wish gala and this chiselled guy in an Armani tux captured my attention. He exuded that potent mix of danger and excitement—a possessive gaze that made me shiver—and I couldn't resist.

A few cocktails, an hour of flirtatious banter, and fleeting brushes of skin-on-skin later, we were against the wall of his hotel room with my hands splayed above my head and his bow tie looped tight around my throat. Both still clothed, he pounded me from behind, yanked my cocktail dress up over my hips and his handprints stung my ass while I shamelessly begged for more.

I relived that sensational fuck the entire next day every time I tried to sit down.

Since then, I've had five, ten, forty, I don't know, and frankly lost count. But not once have I learned their names. Never. It's my code. My safety net. Maybe my way of distancing myself from the acts, or pretending it’s happening to someone else. I'd leave the house a wife and return a whore; a fucked up wreck, dripping with cum from my unfaithful pussy. Climbing into bed next to my husband, reeking of sex and another man's pheromones, I’d fall into a blissful sleep. He must have known.

After the papers were signed, I continued to play the field. Pulling partners was easy, especially at swanky cocktail bars like this one. Plenty of men desired me, and with good reason. I'm still young enough to turn heads, there's enough of me to hold onto, and I fill the short, sparkly gold dress quite spectacularly from whichever angle they stare as I stand at the bar waiting for Mr Right. Well, okay, Mr Anyone who emits the gravitas I desire.

Many men have taken full advantage of my long, dark, wavy hair, scooping it into a ponytail and tugging me onto their length as I grind on all fours back against them. I expect I'll be treated that way this evening and the anticipation makes my veins ache.

Earlier as I got ready, after slithering my favourite red lace tanga panty up toned legs, I couldn't decide between the gold choker—a beautiful indicator of how I adore my throat to be treated—or the eighteen carat pendant chain for added class. I held each against me in turn and chose both.

My hand drifted south from my neck, touching myself at the recollection of the last time I wore the choker. About a week ago. The guy understood. He wrapped both hands around my neck and pulled my face forward onto his meaty shaft, squeezing faintly as he entered my throat. I spluttered against his pubes. His friend approved too, stepped in and impaled me from behind on his incredible cock. My first double-teaming and it was wild.

They shared a high-five as they fucked me from both ends, one resuming his grip on my curvy rump, the other my throat until they unloaded inside me within thirty seconds of one another, all of us groaning uncontrollably. I was thoroughly used, battered and alive; like I'd levelled-up.

As I’d threaded my way away from the motel through trash-filled alleys without my underwear, cum trickling down my legs, a filthy, dirty grin spread. It began to rain, cool droplets spotting my skin before the deluge began. I outstretched my arms, twirled and laughed, riding the glow still spreading from my pussy, and broke into a run.

Soaked to the skin, I burst into the adjoining street a new woman. I knew I had to do it again. And so, the idea behind tonight was born.

Jittery as all fuck, I sneakily spy potential suitors from the safety of the curved bar, without making eye contact. It avoids awkward interactions. But so far they’re all solo travellers or loved-up couples. No groups except a rowdy bunch of college jocks in the corner. Not my style. I have standards and they're too young to know how to treat me.

Half an hour and another long island iced tea later, my luck changes. Two businessmen saunter into the bar, casual shirts and slacks, and are joined by two more shortly after. All it takes is a few loaded glances towards the mouthier of the four and he gets the message. Excuses himself from the group and approaches.

“I'd offer you a drink but you don't look like you need one.” He nods at my half-full tumbler.

Sliding my gaze upwards, making sure he notices me checking out his physique, I counter. “Buy me one anyway. For appearances sake.”

My nipples firm inside the gold dress cups at his attention. He clearly approves of my braless state and tries to drag his gaze to a more I've-just-met-you-appropriate location but, bless him, he’s only partially successful.

Catching the barman's eye—some guy who’s only sporting a beard because it’s trendy rather than it suiting him—he signals for another of my cocktails.

“So, you waiting for someone?”

“Yes.” My pulse ratchets.

“Lucky guy.”

“I'm divorced.”

“No way. You're so young.”

“Flatterer.”

“With due respect, he was an idiot to let you slip through his fingers.”

“Oh it wasn't him.” He raises an eyebrow as the barman pours. “I’m rather demanding.”

“I can imagine.”

I laugh and shake my hair back to give him an uninterrupted cleavage view. “I doubt you’ll come close.”

The barman slides my drink forward on a paper coaster and my suitor pays. I drain my first and pick up the second, lifting it in a gesture of thanks before sucking the straw. His pale blue eyes flit to take in more of me, and I swear I detect a stirring in his slacks. I let my gaze linger on his crotch and raise my attention to his face.

“My husband wasn't man enough for my needs. The question is,” I lower my focus to linger on his package again, “are you?”

He definitely swells, clears his throat and glances over at his workmates. “I…” 

“Awww, need their approval?”

“No.” He seems a little bruised I'd even think to ask. “But I ought to tell them.“

I take another sip and my pulse thunders. “Or invite them too.”

His jaw drops. “Jesus.” He glances around like he expects a hidden cameraman and game show host to emerge and reveal the joke. When all he finds is my smouldering gaze, he closes his mouth and swallows again. “What's the catch?”

My eyes sparkle. “Aren't I enough of a catch? Do you need a map? A photograph of how wet the idea makes me?” His face is a picture. “Tell you what. You have until I finish this drink. Fuck off over there and sell it to them, or fuck off.”

He goldfishes a moment more, then scurries back, animatedly gestures and my pussy throbs at the prospect. Four guys. More holes than I have. Fuck. How will they use me? What will being the centre of attention do to me? I take a quarter step apart and sip my drink. It's half gone. My panties are already stained with arousal. They cling to my pussy I shaved bare especially for the occasion.

There's disbelief among the group. Then dirty laughter as they check me out. One appears reticent; the cute guy with the glasses. Maybe he has a doting wife or stronger morals than the others. The rest goad him. There's more laughter and don't be a pussy tossed around. He finds my gaze across the room and I innocently suck another centimetre of liquid, the message clear. Tick tock.

There's only a finger width remaining when Blue Eyes returns. “You're on.”

My insides churn. I vacuum up the remainder and place the glass on the bar. “Wise decision. Meet me by the elevator in a minute.”

At least four pairs of eyes watch me strut away, heels clicking when I reach the lobby and stride across it.

I loiter by the bank of elevators and press the call button when they approach. Car number three dings to signal its arrival, the doors slide open and a couple step out before I stride in. I wonder if they're judging me as the men follow and huddle, all of us facing forward with me front and centre.

When the door closes, the top note of the after shave of the guy to my right mixes with the scent of my arousal. It fills the car. I wonder if they can detect it too. They must.

I breathe in. Out. “Six.”

Blue Eyes presses the button, a female voice redundantly announces going up, the car lurches and ascends. Nobody speaks. Their clothing brushes my arms as we sway, and I swear my heartbeat rattles louder than the mechanical chains that haul us skyward.

Sixth floor.

The doors slide open, I take another deep breath, tell myself this is what I need, and step out.

They follow down the dimly lit corridor. Mummy duck with four ducklings in tow until I face the bronzed numbers 621. I fumble the key card from my clutch bag with shaking hands and wave it over the lock.

The light goes green accompanied by a mechanical whir and I forge inside. They follow.

The room still carries the scent of shampoo and damp air from my earlier shower and shaving session as we pass the en suite. When the front door latches shut, I’m at the king size bed edge, turn and they all stop at the mouth of the room.

With deliberate slowness that’s at odds with the raging cauldron inside me, I flick one strap, then the other, hook, tug and shimmy my hips to wiggle free of the figure-hugging gold material. It pools around my heels and I step free, one pace towards them, just panties, shoes and a promise.

“Who’s first?”

There's a pregnant pause before Blue Eyes steps forward, his fingertips grazing my thigh and sliding north. I shiver as he crosses the faint hump of my belly and take a breath when he cups a breast and lifts it, stoops and nuzzles the flesh. Mr After Shave follows suit, grabs the other breast and grazes stubble across it, tongue lapping the nipple.

I tip my head back and groan, closing my eyes as the pair roam my front with hands and lips. A rustling signals the arrival of another man who's stepped behind me and traces the curve of my hips. He sweeps my mane aside and plants a kiss on my neck. I moan and sway under their touches, opening my eyes to lock gazes with the only man not physically engaged with my body: Specs. Mr shy.

I mouth, “Kiss me.”

He doesn't move. I reach out to brush the fledgling erection in his trousers and he jolts as if shot. I trace its swelling outline and repeat, “Kiss me,” as the others continue to do likewise on my fiery skin.

He shakes his head and I trail touches to the buckle of his belt. Pull the pin free, unbutton him and let his purple boxers slide into view.

Almost in a trance watching the three men attend to my body, and with no other real choice, he toes his shoes off and steps clear of the garment around his ankles. I scratch at the tip of his manhood and inhale as it grows.

A pair of lips surround each erect nipple. They suckle in unison, and heat swirls inward.

I grab the edges of Specs’ underwear ahead of me, tugging down. He springs into view, peeking up from between his shirt tails and I grip his burgeoning girth, guiding him forward until he's in my space. My breath is shallow. “Kiss me.”

This time our mouths connect. His glasses are cold against my face but the kiss heats rapidly and he swells in my grip. I moan and he does likewise, his hands joining the other three pairs to ignite my libido.

Blue Eyes steps it up a notch and bites a nipple. I hiss into the lips mashing mine, and After Shave catches on, clamping his cap between teeth and drawing my breast away from my body.

I break the kiss and gasp, “Yess, bite me.”

Three sets of mouths obey, nipples and neck aflame and Specs hardens fully in my fist. I jack his shaft as heat spreads.

After Shave and Blue Eyes begin to coordinate their efforts. While one circles and laps a nipple, the other bites its sister and tugs it away until my tit is stretched conical. When it slips from his grip and he begins soothing it with his tongue, the other one starts to bite and tug.

I'm already well on my way to what I expect will be the first of many orgasms. Swept up in the attention of these men, I let the situation consume me just like they do my body. The guy behind wraps my hair around his fist and tugs down.

“Yeah, you like that, don't you? Like being bitten.”

“Fuck yes. Mark me.”

He leans in and his breath is hot against my ear. “You like it rough huh?”

I merely groan.

“You heard that, boys. Bitch likes it hard.”

The intensity of their bites on my tits ratchets and my body can't take it. I curse and shriek in their grip as the climax takes hold. Convulsing and bucking, I'm held up only by them as a deep flush radiates. It obliterates all thought, eclipsing any notion of what I'm doing and why. I'm in a bubble of now. Fingers and teeth. Heat and light.

It's only when I start to descend the other side that I realise I'm still jacking the stiff cock belonging to Specs along the cleft in my panties, and that he's sporting a panicked expression like he's about to lose it.

I continue to stroke his hardness, the flared, circumcised tip brushing and pressing against my underwear, depositing pre-cum across the fabric. He's fighting his orgasm.

“Mmnnn-hmm.”

“It's okay,” I whisper. “Cum for me. Cum on me. There's plenty of time for more.”

He exhales like I've soothed some deep-seated anguish. Male pride maybe, not being the first to fall. His breath transforms into a sustained moan and he swells in my grip, eyes darting between his cock in my fist and his friends still lapping my sensitive nipples.

With my free hand, I grab the centre of my waistband and tug the material out and down, revealing the creamy expanse of my bare slit disappearing into shadow between my legs. Gently rocking my hips against him, his pre-cum smearing my mons, he lets out a low growl and begins to jet against my skin.

His cum splatters. Dots and stripes my smoothness and drips into my underwear as I direct his pulses to hose my pussy. So fucking hot, yet I shiver as his climax peaks then slows.

When the last drip lands I let go, snapping them shut. I reach for his hand, cupping it against my stained panties. He rubs and I sigh.

Twisting free of the other three, I draw his attention back up to my face, mouthing thank you and kissing him. My tongue is insistent; his takes time to join in, until they slide against each other in a steamy French kiss that makes me buzz. Sticky cum oozes through the material against his palm and I moan into his mouth.

Hands maul my body from behind. One, two, three sets clutching hips, ass and hair, all eager for me. A palm resting on my ass lifts and issues a playful spank. I squeak and sigh into the kiss. Another lands. Then another.

Hauling me from Specs, I'm turned around and shoved forward onto the corner of the bed, my pussy mashing the lower corner as the spanking resumes. They seem to be taking it in turns, one spank and one rub each. I grind my clit into the mattress corner for relief when every stroke lands, cries muted as I bite the duvet.

I take the beating. It's not my first spanking but it's the most sustained. My ass glows beneath the panties, joining the heat created by my clit crushing the bed corner until my body seizes in another blissful, powerful orgasm. The waves of pleasure spread and twist in my belly, writhing against the duvet as I scream into it.

They don't let up. If anything, the continued onslaught lengthens the climax, jolting me with arcs of electricity as each spank rains until I'm a crooked, mewling heap on the covers.

If I thought there might be reprieve, I'm wrong. A pair of rough hands grab the waistband and tear my sodden panties down to my thighs. They cut into the flesh, stretched to the fabric’s limit as a stiff cock is offered to my molten slit. My pussy is still spasming as he drives inside, and I huff when his thrusts split my clenching walls. I turn my head, cheek to the bed, trying to see who's entered me.

Before I get a chance, my vision is filled with the slacks of Blue Eyes. His bulge is prominent and he unzips, freeing his turgid shaft for my salacious gaze. He hauls my body towards him and I take him in my mouth. Salty from a day trapped in his underwear, yet sweet due to the glistening pre-cum that I swirl with my tongue, he groans.

Bobbing my head as far as I can, I mostly rely on him to thrust his hips and fuck my mouth. I suspect it's After Shave buried in my slit because the two coordinate again, setting up an electrifying rhythm. Maybe I'm not their first duo. When the man behind me withdraws and I start to close in his wake, my mouth is filled, nudging my throat. Then I'm allowed to draw breath as my cunt is split once more. It's fucking wild.

After Shave sucks a deep breath through his teeth and breaks the rhythm, huffing as he clearly tries to prevent spilling his load, unbuckling and removing his slacks. Blue Eyes hauls free of me and undresses too. When he peels off his jockeys, I'm dazed staring at a pair of delicious, dangling balls. I can't wait to get my mouth on them.

He slides from my vision as I'm yanked away by my legs and my panties are torn down off my ankles. Manhandled onto my back, they arrange me face up diagonally across the bed’s corner, legs splayed open at the foot, mane of hair cascading to the floor by the bedside. I know what's coming and drip with anticipation.

After Shave enters me roughly and I cry out as Blue Eyes steps in and offers his weighty sac for my eager tongue. I slurp. Suck, taking each orb in and wetting it. He moans. More when I rove my tongue deeper, tracing the sexy ridge towards his ass.

He grins down at me, steps away, turns and backs up, offering his ass. I circle his ring, delighting at the escalating moans, and swab at the musky heat, slipping my tongue into his asshole. He grinds down onto my face and I fuck his ass as my pussy is reamed.

When he's soaked in saliva and his sustained moans peak, he steps away and turns again. His cock is rigid, gently curving upwards above me, and I lick my lips.

He presses the top of his dick down to level it with my waiting mouth. As before, he pauses to time his entry with Mr After Shave’s exit. He doesn't stop until I'm filled and coughing then pulls free. I gasp as my cunt is stretched and then vacated. He gazes down at me and takes my air once more.

Their rhythm is measured as I'm stuffed to gasping at one end and stuffed to bursting at the other. But if being worshipped in this manner is exhilarating, it’s nothing compared to when they switch their pacing.

They both clear my body and pause. The calm before the storm. Then with a softly muttered one, two, three count-in, they slide their lengths inside me at once.

Fuuck.

As my cunt is breached to the hilt, I try to gasp but I'm prevented by the cock invading my throat. Momentary panic claws my psyche then washes free as I'm exited. I take a deep breath just before I'm unable, and they glide in deep. This time they stay in a moment longer and I gag before I'm allowed to gulp oxygen.

The coordination of their assault is exhilarating. Each time they stuff me, it's for a longer and deeper thrust than before. As if it couldn't get any better, the fourth guy steps alongside, leans down and squeezes my tits when they enter. As they draw out, he pinches my nipples and I arch into his grip.

That's when I see it. His cock dangling between his thighs. It's fucking colossal and if my breath hadn't already been taken away by him letting go of my nipples and the heat tearing through my body, his mammoth manhood would have done so.

He slaps each breast and the vision of his meat is relegated to memory as the sting registers and clouds my mind, the two cocks piercing me.

I take Blue Eyes deep. Deeper than before, my nose nestling against his pelvis, gurgling and choking as my pussy is filled. They hold inside me and I splutter, convulsing as Monster Cock squeezes my breasts.

They all let up except for the hands on my chest that gravitate to my nipples again, tweak and tug. Pleasure eddies around them and rockets to my pussy, igniting a trail in its wake.

I teeter on the edge of orgasm, drooling pussy juice onto the head of After Shave nestled against my entrance, waiting. They keep me there, pinching and stroking my skin while I gasp and beg for relief.

When my nipples are released and a barrage of slaps land, the two cocks plunge inside and everything closes in. My body twists and writhes and the icing is when a hand rolls over my tummy down to my clit and fingertips circle it.

My climax is all-encompassing. I buck and choke and squirm as they use me. It's all too much for After Shave, who groans, grips my thighs and unloads inside me.

That triggers Blue Eyes who pulls out and pumps his shaft over my desperate rasps for air. Hot ropes of cum stripe my cheeks, forehead and nose as he throws his head back and frosts my face.

I'm beside myself in rapture. A dishevelled mess, cum on and in me as the men finish and we gradually disengage. I slither away to lie on the bed, starfishing to help cool me, and eye the four of them as I scoop the blobs of cum from my cheeks into my mouth.

My breathing takes a while to stabilise and they let me recover but in the back of my mind I know there's one cock I've not yet experienced, and the thought makes me shudder. I twist my attention left. The sheer size of him is as terrifying as it is arousing.

As if sensing my thoughts, he unbuttons his shirt and crawls naked onto the bed, closing the gap between us. His hands burrow beneath my hips and roll me over, then he straddles my thighs, sweeps massaging hands from shoulder to butt and peels me apart.

My pulse races as his tongue explores my crease and dark entrance. Surely not. How will I accommodate that colossus back there? Good God. His tongue pays my thoughts no heed and swabs my tightness, wetting the rim and gently probing as I sigh.

It's thrilling. The meticulous attention to my knot makes me drip as he works. Wets. Widens. Fuck, if I hadn't just had a soul-crushing orgasm, the sheer decadence alone of being tongue-fucked so intimately would set me off again.

His fingertips dig into my behind and his tongue works its magic, preparing me for what I'm sure is going to change me forever. I've played with buttplugs and fantasised about anal sex, but the imminent reality has me jittering again.

I let him spit. Smear. Probe. Try to relax, even when he crawls kisses up my spine to cover my body with his, and that massive organ nudges my folds.

“Ohhhh fuuuck.”

He splits my pussy lips, girth stretching and making a home and I somehow accommodate him, gasping and sighing as he sets up a steady rhythm. He's the size of my biggest toy, maybe a shade wider, and I rock my hips back to meet his as he reaches full depth.

“Oh god, fuck me. Ruin me.”

He obeys. My elasticity is tested over and over and I find myself begging for more. Harder. Faster. My head thrashes as tremors begin and a mini orgasm crests, rippling around his incredible shaft. He pounds through it and the waves intensify. I don't even know if my chants qualify as speech.

As the orgasm hits fully I press my cheek into the bed and my glazed eyes find Specs watching intently from the bedside. I shoot my hand out and seek his fingertips, clutching and grounding myself through the relentless heat that pummels my frame.

The only thing that stirs me from the deep reverie is when the cock withdraws, spit lands in my asshole and my juices join it, spread over the entrance by the dull, wet, fearsome tip.

I tighten my grip on Specs and our eyes connect. Both our mouths fall open as I widen for the flare of the massive dick inching inside.

He goes slow. More spit lands. It might even be from one of the other men watching my undoing. The burn I've experienced as I ease in buttplugs signifies the inner ring stretching, and I gasp as he breaches it.

“Jesus fuck!”

It would be courteous to pause and let me adjust but with unimpeded access he creeps further in and I wail. More spit is applied. Definitely fingers from someone else too. First peeling me apart, then sneaking down to my drooling pussy to scoop up lubricant. Fingertips grease the pole sodomizing me, and it inches further until his hips meet mine and we both exhale.

Now he pauses. Buried. The fullest I've ever been. Specs is as wide-eyed as me, his cock revitalised and proud, and our hands squeeze.

Monster Cock, strokes a stray lock of hair from my cheek, his breath hot in my ear. “Ready to get fucked, little slut?”

I whimper acceptance and can taste his excitement in the bite he leaves on my lobe. His hips rock and the angle shifts. I groan, he withdraws maybe halfway then eases back in, beginning a powerful rhythm in my darkest, tightest recess.

Little mewls of pleasure turn to moans of unbridled need as he increases the pace. My eyes don't leave Specs as the invasion picks up. I'm inside out with excitement and find myself chanting, begging for more delicious ass fucking.

“Ohhh god yes. Fuck my ass. Fill me, yeah, just like that. Jesus.”

He rears up. The mattress behind me deforms and two pairs of hands appear on my buttocks, taking turns slapping them. Heat swirls from the strike points to my reamed asshole and I groan.

The pounding pauses. The owner of the monster leans down to envelop me, prone against my comparatively smaller frame and rolls us onto his back. I lose my grip on Specs and my legs flop apart, gold patent heels planted either side of thighs that flex as the ass fucking resumes upward.

I cry out. Let him plough my depths, splayed for the onlookers, before I take more ownership. Bouncing my hips, the shiny fat rod lubed by the seemingly constant rivulets of juice trickling from my pussy, I give them a show they'll never forget.

Without warning, my splayed cunt is slapped. It stings like all fuck and my shriek rings out as the heat radiates and connects every corner of my abused body. Two, three, more, I howl and beg for the next crash until my voice hollows.

The barrage ends. Specs climbs onto the bed, crawls forward, lovingly kisses and laps the drooling pink lips to soothe my rosy slit, then rises to his knees, shuffling forward and offers his cock. My pussy welcomes him.

An unbelievable fullness descends as he buries himself. Two men, two delicious, hard cocks plundering my insides, separated by a thin membrane. Specs builds a rhythm, sometimes syncopated with the monster in my ass, sometimes reinforcing it. Every thrust releases a new sensation, fresh juices frothing at our junction and I cry and moan for it harder, deeper, faster. They oblige and I flap my arms out.

Expecting to clutch bedsheets, I find two more bodies alongside instead. My grip zeroes on their hardening staffs, and I wank them to fullness. They in turn grab a breast each, squeezing and pinching, and I lose it.

My fourth, fifth, whatever climax of the night blasts into existence and I freeze as it batters my insides. My mouth is wide, O for Obliterating Orgasm, and I can barely breathe for several long seconds before the endless waves thrash me and I exhale sharply, rasping and groaning in time with their beat.

From beneath me, huffs of pleasure begin and the huge rod in my ass pulses, delicious moans filling my ear. Specs isn't far behind, and I just about gain enough vision through the fog of ecstasy to focus on the way his face screws up as he fires sticky cum into my well-used cunt.

The pair either side of me ease their massaging and pinching of my tits. They'll be bruised or, at least, marked tomorrow I'm sure, and the thought of reliving the fuck of my life when I dress and move in my clothes makes me shiver.

I still have hold of their dicks and I resume wanking as the cocks inside me slow then ultimately soften. Specs reverses, a stream of cum chasing his exit, drizzling down the shaft and balls of the anal invader. He surprises me by stooping to lick a single swipe from the guy's balls all the way up to deposit the sticky cum back in my pussy. Where it belongs.

Before I can appreciate his tenderness, the intense burn in my ass signals withdrawal, and another tremor racks me. The monster dick slithers free, his cum pooling at the puckered, distended hole. Specs again sinks to lap my asshole and spreads his co-worker's cum. It's fucking hot and I think the others are as mesmerised as me. I jack the pair of boners either side, their breathing patterns deepening as I inch them closer. 

Mr After Shave blows first, flinging his head back and peppering my left tit with cum. I wipe his pulsing knob on my nipple as spunk spews into my cleavage. Blue Eyes groans shortly after, his second stream of the night crossing the valley to land alongside the cock I'm stroking. The white tributary snakes its way to combine with his friend’s in my cleavage.

My pussy quivers in the tail end of orgasm, and weariness creeps over me. I let go of the withering meat in my hands and Monster Cock slides me off him. He eases me to lie, spent and deliriously happy on the centre of the mattress.

They stand around watching me drift. Five breathing patterns returning to normal in the quiet of the hotel room that has witnessed such depravity.

Cum drips from me. Dries on me. I bask in it. The physical manifestation of their worship, their power that I brought to life. Memories of it make me shudder despite still burning up inside.

If there's any awkwardness in the aftermath of these guys having to dress and leave, to have to work together on Monday after seeing one another naked, I don't notice. That's not a Lauren problem. But sensing I've had enough, they dress in silence. Just shuffling material and clanking belts reach my ears.

When they're presentable, Blue Eyes leads the exodus, the door catch clicking. I call out.

“Hey.” They pause and turn. I make eye contact with Specs at the back of the line. Offer a weak smile. “Leave your number. No name.”

“Me?”

I nod. He looks at the others and shrugs. Crosses to the desk and scribbles on the hotel branded pad, turns and follows his colleagues from the room. The door latches shut, excited chatter—suppressed while in my company—bubbles and fades the other side.

Reflecting in my cum bath, I smile. I hadn't expected to form a connection. From outward appearance, the well-toned Blue Eyes would have been the one I might have considered, but there was something about Specs that captured my interest. A quiet intensity. Despite his initial shyness, he'd been the only one to offer support. And he'd taken the initiative to double penetrate me. He was also the only one who had been bold enough to get swept along in the aftermath and tend to me. That takes strength.

Maybe there was a future there. Maybe not. If nothing else, he had willing mates who I'm sure would drop everything to fuck me. Perhaps I'll hook up with them again. Or find some new playthings until I've fucked this need out of my system. If I ever will.

I shuffle backwards, up to settle against the pillow, and trace fingertips through the gradually drying mess on my skin, buzzing yet weary. Alive. Looking forward to the future. The endless possibilities as I discover more about myself through exploring my raging sexual needs.

A dirty grin spreads and I shut my eyes, chest rising and falling as I let sleep take me towards the first of many, many twisted dreams.