When Becca’s sexy girlfriend suggests that they splurge on a high-tech gangbang simulation, she is loath to agree, afraid that her taboo desire for the rough embrace of faceless men may drive a wedge between her and her lover.
Then, as she sinks into the gritty fantasy of the scenario they ordered, Becca realizes her girlfriend has left her to fend for herself among strangers who seem only too eager to push her over the line. Will she give in and allow herself to be used by all, and how will her girlfriend react when she sees the filthy evidence of her forbidden desire?
Warning: this 7,000-word story contains rough multiple-partner sex that includes public exhibition, light BDSM, and double penetration. It is suitable only for adults. Want to take a peek?
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Excerpt
“Well then,” Jean said, patting her cheek. “You don’t mind if we get started, do you, chérie?” This time, when he leaned in for a kiss, Becca found herself trembling, but not turning away.
His lips were rough on hers. His tongue tasted of something salty, and god, what was she doing opening her mouth to him? When she tried to pull away, his hands tightened painfully around her upper arms. Then someone else began to pinch her aching nipples, and she was shivering and moaning too much to think.
“Wow,” someone said, from a few feet away. “Girls these days, huh?”
“It’s the good stuff,” Richie said, his breath hot against her ear. “Worth it.”
“Especially for some girls,” someone else said. “Come on, Jean, you’re hogging her.”
Where’s the high? Becca thought, muzzily. Things still felt a lot clearer than she would have liked— the hands creeping up her shirt and unbuckling her bra, rough against her bare skin, the oddly gentle way Jean was biting her lower lip, the slapping sounds of someone being fucked— no, raped. It wasn’t happening to her, she knew that, but she could no longer tell whether the desperate whimpering that accompanied the filthy sounds was real or was something else, something worse.
Someone was crying now. “Please, please, please,” they said, and Becca flinched at the sound of it, knowing there was something wrong. She couldn’t remember anymore, but she knew it shouldn’t have sounded like that, like the person being taken was begging for more.
“Am I high?” Becca asked, hating how small her voice was, in that interrupted silence. “Please. I need—”
“Sssh,” Jean said, pulling away from her. “You’re as high as you need, okay? It’s okay.” His hands drifted down, unbuttoning her shirt, exposing her tits to the cool air. “Now just kneel, kneel down for me.”
“Yes,” a girl sobbed, from over to her right. Becca wanted to open her eyes, wanted to see what was happening, but she didn’t. She’d shut them, after all; she must’ve had a good reason. “Harder, yes, yes…”
“Come on,” Riche said, as his hands— or Jean’s hands— slid up her skirt, right between her legs, putting sweet pressure where she needed it most. “You want more of that, right? We’ll give it to you, chérie, but you’ve gotta kneel, you’ve gotta open that pretty mouth.”
Becca opened her eyes, unable to help herself. They were all still in the lounge, and she could see that Jean and Luc had their thick, hard cocks out, and were watching her expectantly. “Come on,” Luc urged, as soon as he saw her looking, his pale hand stroking up and down. “Don’t you want this, sweetheart? You’re not a lesbian or something, right?”
Becca dropped to her knees, hot with shame. “I like both,” she whispered, half to herself.
Their laughter made her shiver. “Is that so,” Richie said, kneeling down close behind her. Then he put one hand on her hip, his tight grip keeping her still while his other hand plunged past her skirt and right into her panties. “Well, what do you know,” he murmured, his breath warm on her neck as he brushed his palm against her slick cunt lips, “I think we’ve got ourselves a real little swinger.” He pinched her clit, dipping his fingers inside her, and she trembled, savoring the intrusion. “You like that, you little slut?”
Don’t say it, a dwindling part of her screamed. Don’t say a word. But his fingers were nice and thick, and filling her so well, and she wanted it anyway, she wanted it all, she’d fucking paid for it, and if Lilah didn’t like watching it, that was her problem. “I like it,” Becca whispered, feeling herself tightening, twitching. “I— oh god—”
“No way,” Luc said. “Is she actually…?”
“Ungh,” Becca said, unable to help it. She bit her lip, trying to shut herself up, and then suddenly the fingers were slipping out, leaving her empty and aching and wet.
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