Quote:
Originally Posted by
viper
Getting spicy… can’t wait for the next installation.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
haikim999
Is this a true or fantasy story?
Let’s just say that the core of it is true.
-——-
CHAPTER 26.
[David’s perspective]
I sat alone at our table, the half-empty glass of retsina a lukewarm weight in my hand. From my vantage point, the dance floor was a blur of movement and shadows, but my eyes were locked onto two figures: Simon, tall and dark, and Amy, a streak of pale silk and liberated energy.
Watching another man’s hands roam over my wife’s body was a sensation I had fantasized about for years, but the reality was sharper than I’d expected. A hollow ache formed in my chest as I watched Simon’s fingers dig into her hips, pulling her jumpsuit so tight against her backside that the lack of any underwear became a public declaration. Seeing her head tilted back, her eyes closed in a trance of pleasure that I wasn’t currently providing, sent a momentary surge of possessiveness through me. I felt like an outsider looking into a world I had helped create but no longer fully inhabited.
But then, Amy turned. She didn’t look at Simon; she looked at me. She caught my gaze through the crowd and smiled–a broad smile that wasn’t for the men at the bar, but purely for me, evoking memories of past dates we had shared in times long ago. In that moment, the jealousy was eclipsed by an overwhelming sense of pride. This was the woman who, forty-eight hours ago, would have been mortified by a stray bra strap showing in public. Now, she was the centre of attention who was daring an entire room of strangers to gaze on her exposed body. I felt a swell of triumph. I had wanted her to find her courage, to shed the straight-laced skin she’d worn for years, and here she was–radiant, brave, and utterly powerful.
As I watched from the table, the heavy, rhythmic thrum of the Greek music seemed to pulse in time with the heat radiating from the dance floor. Simon’s large hands, which had been roaming freely over the curves of Amy’s jumpsuit, suddenly tightened their grip. With a fluid, commanding motion, he spun her around in his arms so she was no longer grinding her back against him but was forced to face him head-on.The height difference was striking; Amy had to tilt her head back sharply to look up at him, her throat exposed and pale under the flickering lights of the taverna. Simon didn’t hesitate. He hooked a finger under her chin and pulled her flush against his chest, his massive frame almost swallowing her petite form.
Then, right there in the center of the room, he claimed her mouth in a deep, possessive kiss. It wasn’t a gentle or tentative exchange. It was raw and hungry. I saw Amy’s hands fly up to his chest, her fingers bunching the fabric of his shirt as she stood on her tiptoes to meet his intensity. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her entire body leaning into him as if he were the only thing keeping her upright.The reaction from the crowd was a mixture of low whistles and a sudden, charged silence from the younger men who had been gawking earlier. They were no longer just looking at a beautiful tourist; they were witnessing a woman completely surrender to the moment.
Watching them, the sting of jealousy flared again, but it was quickly washed away by that same, sharp sense of triumph. I saw the way Simon’s hand slid down from her waist to cup the underside of her bare ass through the thin fabric of her jumpsuit–a move that made her leg hook around his thigh in a reflexive, desperate need for more friction.She was vibrant. She was scandalous. And as they finally broke the kiss, gasping for air while the music reached a crescendo, Amy looked directly over Simon’s shoulder and found my eyes. The look she gave me wasn’t one of apology; it was a challenge. She was showing me exactly what she had become, and she was loving every second of the spectacle.
As the music slowed to a low, rhythmic hum, Simon and Amy untangled themselves and made their way back to the table, though the space between them had all but vanished. Amy was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath the thin, silk fabric of her jumpsuit, which was now damp with a fine sheen of sweat from her exertion. Her face was deeply flushed, a vibrant mix of physical exhaustion and the high-octane thrill of her public display.
Returning to their shared side of the table, Amy sat so close to Simon that she was practically in his lap, her thigh pressed firmly against his and her arm draped possessively over his shoulder. The straight-laced woman from Singapore seemed a distant memory; in her place was a woman who was radiating a raw, sexual energy.
From my vantage point, I watched as Amy leaned into Simon, her head resting on his chest while she tried to catch her breath. The sight of her so completely comfortable in the arms of a stranger–especially after the deep, hungry kiss they had shared on the dance floor–sent a fresh jolt of adrenaline through me. The group of four younger men at the nearby table were still staring, their conversation forgotten as they tracked every movement of Amy and her lover. They looked at me with a mixture of confusion and envy, clearly unable to reconcile my quiet presence with the blatant exhibitionism of the woman who was clearly my wife.
Simon reached out, his large hand sliding up the side of Amy’s waist to rest on her ribs, his thumb tracing the curve of her breast as he looked at me. “She has a lot of fire,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration that seemed to reach me even over the ambient noise of the taverna. “I think it is time we took that fire somewhere more… private”.
Amy looked up at him, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded with a mixture of wine and desire. She didn’t even appear to notice me any more, her eyes only for Simon. “I’m ready,” she whispered, her voice husky.
-—————
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Blackenrose
OMG, nice story
Bet Amy super wet le…
Reading also make me wet liao, hahahah!
thank you. I’m glad you are enjoying the story.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Nitrolicious
A lot of fire? One fire hose reel sufficient? đŸ˜…
Nitrolicious, you are always spot on.
-———–
CHAPTER 27
[David’s perspective]
The group of four younger men from the adjacent table finally broke their mesmerized silence. One of them, the tanned and rugged leader who had been gesturing toward Amy’s braless jumpsuit earlier, called out to Simon a string of words in Greek. I couldn’t understand a single word, but the crude, mocking edge in his voice was unmistakable. It was the sound of a man who had seen enough to know the rules of proper society were being ignored at our table and wanted to push his way into the game.
Simon didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned back, his arm tightening around Amy’s waist as a slow, dangerous grin spread across his face. He shot back a quick, sharp reply in the same tongue–only a few words, delivered with the casual authority of a man who owned the room. The younger men laughed, a mix of shock and appreciative hooting, as they finally turned back to their drinks, though their eyes never truly left Amy.
“What did they say?” I asked, my voice slightly tight. The spike of jealousy I’d felt on the dance floor was now mingled with a strange, soaring pride that my wife was the catalyst for such a scene. Simon looked at me, then down at Amy, who was watching him with wide, expectant eyes.
“They asked if my woman was as good in bed as she was on the dance floor,” Simon replied, his thumb lazily stroking the exposed skin of Amy’s waist. My breath caught.
“And what did you tell them?”
Simon’s grin widened. “I told them she fucks even better than she dances.”
Amy let out a small, sharp gasp, her face flushing even deeper than it had been from the exertion. She didn’t look offended; she looked electrified. She stared at Simon, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded with a mixture of wine and pure, unadulterated lust. Gone was the shy reserved woman from Singapore who worried about what others thought; in her place was a woman who had just been publicly claimed and branded as a sexual force in a room full of strangers.
“Those men clearly want to fuck you.” I whispered at my wife, leaning in. “Are you enjoying their attention? If they asked you to fuck them all together, would you?”
She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she reached out and gripped my hand, her palm hot and damp, while her other hand disappeared beneath the table to find Simon’s thigh once more.
“I think,” Simon said, standing up and pulling Amy with him, “it is time we took this evening some place more private.”
Simon covered Amy’s shoulders and back with his coat, warm with his body heat and imbued with his masculine scent. By covering my wife he signalled to the room that the show was over and that he was reclaiming his property. The pair left the way they came in, bodies closely touching and Simon’s arm wrapped possessively around my wife. All that was left was for me to trail behind the lovers as we made our exit.
-—————-
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Nitrolicious
Simon is getting possessive. He dont seem to like sharing….
Seems like you’ll are liking where this is going.
As a reward, here is a longer post.
-————
CHAPTER 28
[David’s perspective]
The chilly night air of Crete hit us as we stepped out of the white-washed stone building, a sharp contrast to the heat and noise of the dining hall and dance floor. The patrons of the taverna had watched our departure in silence, their eyes trailing Amy’s swaying hips until we disappeared into the shadows of the parking area. Simon didn’t let Amy go; his arm remained locked around her waist, and he still carried her red lacy panties in his pocket as a trophy of her submission.
We returned to the small rental car, and the seating arrangement remained the same–I was in the front, once again relegated to the role of driver, while Amy and Simon took the cramped rear seats in the back. This time, however, there was no small talk. The moment the engine turned over and the car began to bounce along the unpaved mountain roads, the cabin was filled not with music, but with the sound of desperate, hungry movement.
Through the rearview mirror, I watched as Amy, still wearing Simon’s coat like a badge to prove his ownership of her body, immediately turned to Simon, her hands tangling in his hair as they began to make out with a raw intensity that made the car feel even smaller than it was. Eventually they broke apart and Amy finally relinquished Simon’s coat, reached back for the cowl of her jumpsuit, and pulled the top half of the garment over her head, letting the fabric fall to her waist and exposing her breasts and the rest of her upper torso to the dim light of the cabin. She moved with a confidence that would have been unthinkable days ago, reaching for Simon’s belt and freeing his manhood from his pants.
Even in the shadows, the sheer scale of Simon’s cock was staggering–a massively huge presence that seemed to dominate the backseat. Amy bent at the waist to worship his cock, her hands and mouth working in tandem. Though she had managed with Giorgos and Jiannis at the beach, she found herself overwhelmed by Simon’s size; she tried her best to open her jaw to accommodate him, but she simply could not get even the full head of his cock into her mouth.
Simon didn’t remain passive; his large, rough hands pawed at her chest, his fingers finding her erect nipples and pinching them with a firm, commanding pressure. Amy let out sharp gasps of pleasure that echoed through the car, her back arching as she leaned into the sensation.
I watched every second of the display through the mirror, my knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. I watched my wife surrendering her body to this swarthy Greek lion. Her eyes rolling back in her head as she capitulated to the physical power of the man beside her. The car continued its climb into the mountains, the silence of the night outside punctuated only by the wet sounds of Amy’s efforts and the occasional gasp as Simon’s hands freely explored every inch of Amy’s body.
The short drive back to the villa was a blur of shadows and the raw, rhythmic sounds of the backseat. Amy remained topless and half-naked, her body still humming from the public display at the taverna and the frantic intimacy of the car ride. As soon as the car came to a halt in the driveway of the rental villa, Simon, not bothering to zip up his manhood, flung open the car door and lifted/carried Amy physically out of the car. Amy clung to Simon’s physically larger frame, her body language screamed desperation for the release he promised.
Simon hoisted Amy up in his arms, carrying her through the front door and straight into the bedroom. I followed silently, taking my place in a corner chair–a vantage point that allowed me to observe the full spectacle of Simon’s conquest without disturbing the action.
Without a low growl, Simon proceeded to tear the remains of Amy’s jumpsuit from her body, leaving her completely exposed to the cool air of the room. He held Amy’s body down as he proceeded to lick every inch of her exposed body, from navel to forehead. Amy was howling in desire as Simon’s hot tongue caressed and devoured every inch.
“Oh. Come on in me. I want you in me. I need to be fucked so bad.” Amy panted.
Simon chose to torture Amy some more with his tongue. He planted his mouth over her engorged vulva. From my seat, I heard sucking and slurping sounds as he penetrated her sex with his dog-like tongue. Shifting even lower, I saw him lick the tight rosebud of her anus, leaving it glistening wet with his saliva. Amy threw her head back in pleasure.
“OH FUCK! THAT’S FUCKING GOOD. OH FUCKING HELL. DON’T YOU DARE STOP!” she screamed.
Simon obliged, displaying consummate skill and incredible jaw stamina. Licking my wife from front hole to back hole, stopping now and again to thrust his muscular tongue into each tight hole. Pretty soon he had brought Amy to a shuddering climax with his tongue alone.
Having given Amy the pleasure she had been craving all evening, Simon now demanded his quid-pro-quo. He roughly shed his clothes and hauled Amy from the bed and made her kneel in front of him. His massive penis jutted out like a spear right in Amy’s face.
“Get my cock wet, I need your saliva on my cock so I can fuck your pussy.”
Amy obliged eagerly. With both hands she started fisting Simon’s giant penis. Using her saliva, she drooled over the head and shaft of his cock, lubricating it in preparation for its assault on her eager vagina. Amy was barely able to wrap her fingers around Simon’s cock, and even grasping his shaft with both hands, a good portion of his manhood was exposed to the greedy slurping lips of my wife. Soon enough she had managed to completely lubricate Simon’s cock with her saliva and spit. Her hands glided over his glans and shaft, polishing it over and over again.
Unlike the previous evening where she had been a more passive participant, Amy was now the one driving the intensity. Amy didn’t wait to be positioned. She stood back up and pushed Simon back onto the bed. Simon didn’t fight her, or else there would normally have been no way my smaller wife could have ever moved that mountain of a man.
Amy climbed on top of Simon, her petite frame a stark contrast to his massive build. She gripped his monster cock and guided it toward the entrance of her vagina. With a sharp, breathless gasp, she impaled herself partially on him, her eyes rolling back in her head as she took him in.
She began to move with a primal, rhythmic hunger, her hands braced against Simon’s chest for leverage. Every downward thrust was a deliberate act of reclamation, her hard nipples and flushed skin a testament to her total liberation. Little by little and bit by bit I watched her ass make its descent down the mountain that was Simon’s manhood. It was slow going even with the combination of Amy’s saliva and vaginal juices coating his cock. But Simon’s ultimate penetration of my wife’s pussy seemed a virtual certainty given how hard Amy was working to take him into her.
“It’s too much, Simon… you’re stretching me past anything I’ve ever felt. It’s like you’re claiming every inch of me from the inside out.” Amy declared. Beads of sweat collecting on her forehead, cheeks, chest and running between her heaving breasts.
Simon’s hands weren’t idle; they grabbed her hips, pulling her down harder with every stroke, his fingers digging into her skin, leaving red marks on her pale white flesh. The room was filled with the wet sounds of their coitus. From my chair, I watched in fascination as with a final, bracing push against Simon’s chest, Amy grunted and finally succeeded in taking the entire length of Simon’s manhood into her.
Amy let out a howl of pleasure. “Oooooohhhhh. Oh fuck it’s in me. It’s so big. I’m dying… It feels so full. It feels like you are splitting me open.”
Simon roared his own satisfaction and pulled Amy close for a rough kiss. Their tongues were slipping and sliding together, swapping fluids from mouth to mouth.
Having succeeded in her first objective, Amy started a rocking motion with Simon’s spear still buried deep in her womb. The bedroom was now filled with the wet, heavy slapping sound of their love making. Amy’s breathing quickened and I could tell that she was approaching her limit.
Simon’s expression was intent as he matched Amy’s intensity and ferocity, his own desire and physical power pushing them both toward a final ultimate shuddering climax. I saw Simon thrust upwards, once, twice and both bodies tensed as they reached a synchronised climax. I saw a growing patch of dampness on the sheet, evidence that Amy had squirted. Mixing in with Amy’s fluids was Simon’s thicker, whiter seed. Amy collapsed on top of Simon, panting in exhaustion, body covered in sweat.
-—————-
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Nitrolicious
Wow. Nice story. How is Amy gonna take any more rounds?
The tension is ratcheting up. Here’s a short update. Amy is going to be way outside her usual comfort zone.
-————
CHAPTER 29
[David’s perspective]
I realised that I had been holding my breath and released it now, fixated by the sight of the two entangled lovers, sprawled in careless abandon in the aftermath of their desperate act of lovemaking. My thoughts scattered and incoherent after witnessing one of the most erotic scenes of my life. My own manhood was throbbing in unfulfilled desire. But it seemed churlish to interrupt the scene before my eyes.
My thoughts were interrupted by the ring of the villa’s doorbell. The doorbell’s chime was a jarring intrusion, a sharp, metallic sound that sliced through the heavy, musk-filled silence of the bedroom. On the bed, Amy didn’t stir; she remained draped across Simon’s massive frame like a discarded silk ribbon, her skin still slick with a mixture of sweat and the remnants of their exertion. The bell rang again, more insistent this time, followed by the muffled sound of a heavy fist thumping against the wooden front door. Simon didn’t move to cover his nakedness; instead, he watched me with a calm, expectant gaze. “Go on, David,” he urged, his voice a low rumble. “Our guests have arrived”.
I left the bedroom without closing the door and walked over to the main entrance door of the villa. I opened the door to find the four men from the taverna–the same tanned, rugged group that had watched Amy with such hunger. I recognised the guy in the lead, he was the same who had crudely asked Simon if my wife was a good fuck. He completely ignored me. “Simon, pooh ee-say?”, he shouted.
From the bedroom doorway, Simon appeared. “Right on time.” he said to the newcomer.
All four men stepped into my villa without so much as a by-your-leave from me. Clearly, they treated me as someone of no consequence. The last man closed the door behind him and I stood dumbfounded at the sudden crowd in my living room. All four newcomers were younger than both me and Simon, with the vitality of youth evident in the spring of their step and the cocky confidence of men in their twenties. While none were as tall or as physically imposing as Simon was, each man looked physically fit and had bodies that were conditioned by manual labour.
“What is this? What is happening?” I demanded. But again, I was ignored.
The guy that I had come to think of as the leader of the group looked at Simon and cocked his head towards the doorway leading to the bedroom. His gesture was unmistakable. He was clearly asking Simon whether my wife was in the room.
Simon grinned and nodded, and motioned the group of men towards the bedroom. All five men started toward the bedroom.
I tried to bar the men from the room, but I was completely outnumbered and outflanked. None were particularly rough with me, but they kept me from entering the bedroom where my wife still lay, naked and vulnerable. The door was shut in my face, the sound of men laughing and whistling the last sound I heard before the lock turned.
I pounded on the door, shouting Amy’s name, frantic with concern for my wife.
TO BE CONTINUED.
[Next few parts will be told from Amy’s perspective.]
Quote:
Originally Posted by
viper
Soild stories… Gangbang coming up next
Quote:
Originally Posted by
NastyThaiboy
Nice story, camping here for more updates.
The next few chapters will be from Amy’s perspective. How will she handle the hungry demands of five men?
-———-
CHAPTER 30.
[Amy’s perspective]
I woke from my pleasant stupor to the sound of insistent pounding. It took a while for the fog of sexual gratification–that thick, honeyed haze–to clear from my mind. I was naked, my skin still covered with Simon’s saliva and other dried fluids. Five large shapes loomed over me, their features swallowed by the shadows of the Airbnb villa.
One of them spoke and I recognised the voice of Simon. “Get up little bird,” it said, “I have some friends here who want to get to know you.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. I looked around for David, my husband, wondering why he was no longer in the room with us. All throughout the evening he had been present, giving me comfort knowing that he was with me. Now, with his unexpected absence, an icy shard of fear shot through me.
“David!” I called out, my voice thin and cracking with a terror I couldn’t hide.
“Amy!” His voice came back, but it was muffled–strangely distant, coming from behind the heavy bedroom door.
I turned to Simon, my Greek lover, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Simon, what is this? What are you doing?”.
He didn’t look at me. He didn’t even acknowledge the question. Instead, he stepped toward the door, speaking to my husband as if I were a piece of furniture in the room. “David, brother, don’t worry. She will be safe. Me and my friends just want to play with her a little”.
His hungry gaze remained locked on me, leaving no doubt as to what kind of ‘play’ he and his friends desired.
“Simon, this wasn’t what we discussed!” David’s voice erupted from the hallway, sounding both desperate and pathetic. “I asked you to arouse her… I said you could have sex with her. But I never said you could whore her out to your friends!”.
The word ‘whore’ hit me harder than any physical blow. I felt the heat of betrayal flood my chest, a sickening mix of shame and realisation: David and Simon had made an “arrangement,” and I had been kept in the dark. It turned out that I wasn’t actually a co-participant in this sexual adventure, instead I was the prize that was being pimped out by my own husband. Even worse, David’s last statement indicated that he was no longer in control and that I was totally at the mercy of Simon and his friends!
I shrank back from the hungry gazes of the five men in front of me. Trying in vain to cover my nakedness with the bedsheets.
“Don’t be frightened little bird,” said Simon soothingly, one hand reached out and stroked my cheek. “We don’t want to hurt you. We all saw how you behaved earlier so you can’t pretend that you weren’t trying to make all of us lust after you. Plus I know how much you enjoy the sex.”
I couldn’t help it, my body still responded to Simon’s gentle caress with a shiver. Why did this man have such a magnetic hold over me. I closed my eyes, trying to banish the sight of him and thereby hoped to regain some sense of myself.
But his hypnotic voice wormed its way into my ear and I couldn’t shut him out. Plus his hands were still stroking me and oh it felt so good.
“Why don’t we clean you up a little and that way my friends can see you all fresh.” Simon’s honeyed tongue continued laying its spell on me. My brain went numb and I could no longer muster the will to fight Simon’s hypnotic commands.
I chose not to resist. It wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. Two pairs of hands reached out to pull me out of the bed and steady me, one on each side. They half guided me, half carried me over to the attached bathroom. They deposited me in the shower and started running the water, letting it warm up a little before using the detachable shower hose to rinse me down. The hands were thorough, every patch of skin was rinsed through to wash away any dried semen and body fluids. They even lathered me with soap, gently scrubbing my skin with a loofa, making it glow with a rosy tinge with the combined action of the warm water and their firm and deft movements.
I let them finish soaping me and cleaning me up. Their actions were methodical, almost clinical, not a form of titillation even when one of the men soaped up his hands and washed my groin, front and rear. They even hosed my vagina, washing out clumps of thick white semen. I stood there like a statue while being cleaned, not resisting at all.
Next they rubbed me dry with one of the thick warm towels provided by the Airbnb host. It felt like I was cocooned in a warm hug. Despite myself I started to relax my guard and even began enjoying the pampering. But I could not fully shake the feeling like I was being prepared–not for a night of love, but for a performance. By the time I had been showered, dried and guided back to the bedroom, the other three men had managed to re-make the bed, even changing the sheets with the spare ones they found in the wardrobe. I stood there, waiting for the next command.
-——–
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Nitrolicious
Anyone bigger than Simon?
No, Simon was still the biggest.
-—————
CHAPTER 30.
[Amy’s perspective]
Simon issued instructions in rapidfire Greek. All four men started stripping. Simon of course was still naked from earlier, showing zero trace of self consciousness as he stood there with his penis, now flaccid, hanging down almost reaching his knees. Soon I was treated to the sight of five tanned and swarthy naked men.
“Kneel” Simon commanded, clearly targeting it at me. One of the men (I didn’t get any of their names) was more considerate than most and placed a pillow on the wooden floor for me to kneel on. Simon stepped behind me, grabbing my hips with his large, rough hands and forcing me onto my knees in the center of the bedroom. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he growled. “To be the center of their world?”. I could sense what was coming next.
As if on cue, one of the men stepped forward and thrust his penis in my face. I didn’t need to hear the command to know what was expected of me. I took hold of the man’s cock. It was circumcised, which I had not seen before and sucked it into my mouth.
The man I was pleasuring gave a grunt of approval and I gave him my best blowjob for the next 30 seconds. But before he could come, another man replaced him, and then another.
By the third guy my jaw was aching and my knees were a bit sore. I had to support myself with my arms wrapped around the buttocks of the man I was currently blowing. To an observer it must have looked like passion or desire, but really my legs would have given way otherwise.
Because I was blowing them for such short periods, none of the men reached their climax and I was starting to feel a bit frustrated.
When the fourth and last of the new men stepped up to take his turn, he must have decided that enough was enough. Instead of waiting for me to take him into my mouth, he grabbed my head between his two hands and started to mouthfuck me.
I didn’t have time to react to the sudden assault. Before I could even protest, a warm penis had invaded the back of my throat. I swallowed instinctively and started to gag. But somehow, by continually attempting to swallow, my gag reflex seemed to have been suppressed. No. 4’s (I had started to name my partners in order that I blew them) long thin penis slid smoothly and partially down my throat.
I felt suffocated. But just as it had earlier with Giorgos, along with the sensation of suffocation and panic, came a wave of pleasure emanating from my womb. Now that no. 4 had successfully shoved his entire cock down my throat, he started to really fuck my face. The sensation of the thick meaty penis repeatedly sliding to the back and down my throat was entirely novel and not completely unwelcome. With no. 4 holding my head between his palms, I no longer needed my arms to hold myself up.
Seizing the opportunity, no. 1 and no. 2 took hold of my arms and placed them on top of their semi erect penises. Instinct took over and soon I was giving a hand job to no. 1 and no. 2 while being face-fucked by no. 4.
With the impatience of youth, no. 4 didn’t take long before stiffening in my mouth and shooting ropes of cum down my throat. He came with a roar of triumph and I did my best to swallow all of the semen that he was unloading in my mouth.
No. 3 then wanted to take no. 4’s place. But clearly the men felt that they needed to keep to the original sequence. No. 1 then took his place and imitated no. 4, shoving his cock straight down my throat. It was easier this time, perhaps I had gotten used to it. But in any case, he had soon struck up a jackhammer rhythm that might have felt punishment if it wasn’t for the glow of pleasure that I felt permeating my body.
Each remaining man then took turns face fucking me, all except Simon I realised. Whether it was because he knew that there was still no way I could take in his monster cock or whether he was merely content to watch his creation blossom into a wanton sex trollop, Simon stood back and did not participate. Instead I could hear him giving brief suggestions to the men in their native tongue.
As for what the odd man out was doing, since I could only service three men at a time with my one mouth and two hands, the unoccupied fourth man would be rotated out to record the action with a smartphone that one of them had helpfully brought along. It seemed that my night of fornication was to be recorded for posterity.
The last man to facefuck me was no. 3. No. 4, no. 1 and no. 2 had each had their turn and I had accumulated a warm reservoir of cum in my stomach. I was no longer having to give the others hand jobs, as their cocks had gone flaccid after unloading in me, so all that was left was no. 3. Seeing this, no. 3 obviously felt he needed to make a statement. Just as he was about to finish, instead of slamming home and unloading his seed down my throat, he pulled back his dick and sprayed my face with his semen instead. Thick ropes of white cum splashed on my face, my lips, my chin, and dripped down my chest and breast.
For reasons that I don’t quite understand, the warm jizz made me hot with desire. I collected as much cum as I could and rubbed it like body lotion over myself, working it into the skin of my breasts and the valley between. I licked the remaining salty fluids from my fingers in deep satisfaction.
-—————-
Quote:
Originally Posted by
viper
I am sure more to come. Not just BBBJ. She will get raped for sure. Nice story..Keep it up.
No mercy for poor Amy, her body is about to be violated quite thoroughly.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Nitrolicious
Thankfully BJ only.
Looks her pussy will be intact still.
I thought Nitrolicious was looking forward to a gangbang.
-—————
CHAPTER 31.
[Amy’s perspective]
There was no resistance left in me after that. Simon started giving instructions in a mix of English and Greek, holding the camera phone and directing the action like a porn director on a set.
Four men lifted me effortlessly from where I had collapsed on the floor and laid me down on the newly remade bed. After that I surrendered my body and senses to the many hands and lips and tongues that groped, pinched, sucked, licked and probed every inch of my body, including my anus and my vagina. Even my feet were not spared. I couldn’t keep up with the assault, could no longer tell which hand and which tongue belonged to whom. My universe narrowed to just the bed and the warm and salty-skinned bodies that inhabited it with me. I grabbed whatever I could reach - hand, penis, scrotum and sucked whatever was placed near my lips. I was drunk on desire and thoughts of my husband standing forlornly on the other side of the bedroom door were a distant consideration.
The men didn’t need much time to recover. One after another they got hard again and their desire for my body became more insistent. My nipples were chewed on, love bites covered my torso, fingers pinched me hard enough to leave marks. It should have been painful, but somehow pain had transformed into a deeper, stronger pleasure. My pussy was leaking fluid constantly and I knew that I was craving cock.
“Someone come fuck my pussy!!”, I threw out the challenge.
Simon got me to go down on my hands and knees in the classic doggie pose. No. 4, who I had come to realise liked it rough compared to the others, took up position behind and in one motion rammed himself home into my pussy. I screamed in surprise and pleasure, my pussy fluids leaked copiously down my thighs. No. 2 took up position in front of me and motioned for me to take him in my mouth. The two men quickly found a coordinated rhythm, both thrusting in me simultaneously. I was spit roasted between the men like a piece of meat.
I moaned and drooled uncontrollably as both men used me like a fuck toy, only seeking their own pleasure. No. 1 then came and joined in the action. Standing on the other side away from Simon who was still filming with the smartphone, he groped and mauled my hanging titties, even slapping them like a cat playing with a toy.
‘Piak! piak!’ the angry sound of a slap reached my ears and pain bloomed from my backside. No. 4, ever the sadist, had apparently been inspired by no. 1 and started slapping my pale ass with his meaty palm. He began slamming his meaty palm against my pale skin with a force that felt personal. These weren’t the playful, heightening swats of a lover; they were heavy, punctuating strikes fueled by a dark, simmering energy.
As the pain intensified, Simon’s words from the taverna earlier that evening flashed through my mind. He had spoken of the young men in Greece–generationally frustrated, feeling neglected and discarded by the richer nations of the EU. Looking at the vein throbbing in No. 4’s neck and the cold focus in his eyes, I realised I had become the target for all that unspoken rage. To him, I wasn’t just a woman; I was a symbol of the world that looked down on him. I was just the convenient outlet for his rage and unhappiness. Unable to change his circumstances, no. 4 has clearly decided that he would take his frustrations out on me.
Tears blurred my vision, spilling down my cheeks as I struggled to breathe. I tried to scream a protest, but my voice was swallowed by No. 2’s cock, which remained lodged firmly in my mouth. There was no reasoning with him; there was only the fire of his resentment, and it seemed the hotter it burned, the faster it would consume itself.
But it seemed that the hotter the fire, the faster it burned out. No. 4’s thrusts started to jerk randomly and he fell out of sync with no. 2. My suspicions were confirmed when he suddenly sped up his thrusts and started cumming deep into my ravaged pussy. His cock pumped once, twice, then no. 4 yanked his dick out of me and moved to a corner of the room to sulk.
No. 3 was quick to take the place of the fallen no. 4 and he started a more measured pace of thrusting. After a while, No. 2 came next, which I was grateful for as my jaw had started to hurt again. He too chose to ejaculate over my face and body. No. 1 seemed to be a boobs man, because he raised my torso up and started kissing me while fondling both my breasts. I felt a glow of pleasure as I had always felt insecure about the smaller size of my chest, but no. 1’s admiration of my love mounds restored some of my self confidence.
I was starting to appreciate no. 3’s stamina. He had been thrusting in me for quite some time in a steady rhythm. That gave my body time to adjust and I felt a slow tingling feeling start to grow between my legs, the rising crest of what promised to be a huge orgasmic wave.
True enough, the wave eventually crashed over me and my body started jerking uncontrollably. I cried out in pleasure. Luckily no. 1 was still holding me tight and I clung to him as I lost all conscious control of the lower half of my body.
Eventually the waves subsided and I realised that no. 3 was still hard. I half turned and gave him an appreciative smile, which he reciprocated with a youthful grin that lit up his whole face. I think my overt approval must have been a huge ego boost to him.
No. 3 then pulled out of me and I felt a flash of disappointment but also curiosity, wondering what he intended to do next. I felt his hand scoop up some of the fluids still leaking out of my vagina and rub it over my puckered anus.
‘No way!’ was my first thought. I had never tried anal before. The one time David had suggested it I had immediately rebuffed him.
But I didn’t have the language skills to explain to this young man that I did not want his penis in my ass. I could only shake my head and pray that my meaning was clear.
No. 3 was surprisingly understanding of my apparent reluctance but in no way deterred. The one consideration he had for me was to take things a little slow. He started with a single finger, which popped past the tight ring of muscle at the entrance of my rectum. I could feel every inch of his finger as it probed my rear. Surprisingly it didn’t feel bad at all. In fact, I was starting to feel a warm and slightly tingling sensation.
No. 3 sawed his finger back and forth and soon had my back channel lubed up. My own body produced secretions that aided in this. Before too long I found myself actively thrusting back on to no. 3’s finger. It seemed that my body enjoyed this after all! It was a joyous day of discovery.
Once I had demonstrated that I was no longer against the idea of anal penetration, no. 3 then lined up his penis, still hard, at the entrance of my anus. He pushed in deeply and my body took it all.
It felt heavenly. I now understood why the almighty creator designed the human anus to have so many nerve endings. I abandoned all misgivings about anal sex and started thrusting myself on no. 3’s penis.
No. 3 allowed me to have my fun for about a minute or so. But then he grabbed me around the hips and took control of the action. His thrusts were much more forceful and much faster and the glorious sensation in my ass multiplied tenfold.
I started spitting out expletive after expletive as no. 3 reamed my asshole with his cock. I had one, two, three large orgasms in quick succession, which left me almost breathless. I shouted and begged to be fucked harder and deeper, not caring and ounce that all this was being recorded on Simon’s phone.
Finally no. 3 shuddered and came deep in my bowels and I joined him for one final soaring orgasm.
Panting I collapsed.
-——-
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Nitrolicious
Amy is so wasted! How far can she stretch more?
Quote:
Originally Posted by
jws3x
Sexciting story
thanks for the support.
-——————
CHAPTER 32.
[Amy’s perspective]
Dear reader, I will not bore you with further details of how I passed the rest of the night. I was given only short bouts in which to rest or to wash up. The rest of the night was spent letting my body be used in every lewd and obscene way imaginable. When asked to crawl, I crawled. When asked to beg, I did. I confessed to every dark and dirty desire I had ever had and even some that I never did but now wanted. I begged each and every man that night to fuck me, to use me, to cum in me, to fill my holes. I practically bathed in their semen and each man had stamped their possession over every single one of my orifices. I serviced each man multiple times that night, and frequently several men at once. I was fist-fucked, anal fucked, double penetrated standing and lying down. I serviced feet, ears, mouths, armpits, dicks, balls, perineums, and yes anuses with my lips, mouth and tongue, heedless of dignity and sanitation alike. Simon made me kneel in front of the camera and confess my wanton desires to be filled and fucked by countless cocks, even as the men masturbated and bathed me in their cum. The cameras captured me sticking out my tongue, trying to capture every drop in my mouth.
“Tell the camera, Amy,” Simon had commanded in a low growl.
“Tell everyone who sees this exactly what you are.”
I had leaned in closer to the microphone. “I love it,” I had confessed in a husky voice, “I love being their toy… I love that they are claiming every inch of me from the inside out. I like to be used like this… I love being a fuck slave for every man in this room. I want them to keep taking me and using me”.
I was fucked in every imaginable position, cumming and being cummed in so many times I lost count. But what truly scared me was that my body kept wanting more.
But eventually we were all human and there ultimately came a point when all the men had had their fill of me. The departure of the four men was as sudden and efficient as their arrival, there were no polite goodbyes or awkward lingerings. The men simply began to collect their things, pulled on their clothes and adjusted their belts with the clinical indifference of workers finishing a shift. No. 3 paused to look at me one last time, his gaze lingering on my flushed skin and the handprints and sweat that marked my body like a map. He let out a short, sharp grunt of approval, the only gesture of thanks I would receive that night. They left me there, in the early hours of the day, covered in various bodily fluids.
I surrendered to my exhaustion and oblivion claimed me.
-——-
Quote:
Originally Posted by
bignehneh
Another genius writer. Thank you sir for keeping us entertained daily
thank you for the kind words.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
viper
Well written story. Hot and spicy. from rape to willing Gangbang experience.
not supporting or condoning rape at all but I can understand a bit why many people, even some women do harbour fantasies of being used as an object of lust.
-———————
CHAPTER 33.
[Amy’s perspective]
The next morning, I struggled to get out of bed. I was sore in places I didn’t even know the name for. I must have been a sight. Hair matted with dried cum and who knew what. My body covered in love bites and other bruises. But my chief concern was David. I had no sight or sound of him since the start of my ordeal.
I wrapped myself in a robe, tired of having my body exposed, and hobbled out of the bedroom and found David passed out on the couch, and empty glass and an empty bottle of whisky next to him on the floor. I guessed that he must have been drinking steadily the whole night in order to drown out the sounds of his wife servicing four men. The empty bottle of whisky a testament to how much he must have beat himself up over the whole situation and drank until he had passed out from exhaustion and too much alcohol.
I shook him awake, a difficult task given the depth of his alcoholic haze. Finally, he cracked open one bleary eye and looked at me. The silence between us was heavy with everything that had been done and allowed.
“Do you hate me?” I asked, my voice small and sounding like it belonged to a different person.
“Babe, no, never. I could never hate you. I blame myself. I couldn’t protect you. I’ve never felt so powerless before.” He blubbered. “Did they hurt you? Are you okay?”. His concern was evident on his face and in his voice.
I looked at him, and for a moment, the betrayal I’d felt last night when I heard his confession through the door flared up. But then I looked at the bruises on my arms and the way my body still hummed with the memory of the night. “I’m okay,” I said, and to my surprise, I realised I meant it. “Really. They didn’t hurt me.”
I pulled him up from the couch. “Come on, we have to pack. We need to get to the airport.”
“Yes, let’s go home.” David said in a voice of defeat.
There wasn’t a whole lot we could do about the state of the bedsheets. I was pretty sure we would be losing our cleaning deposit for the Airbnb. But we did the best we could in the time we had to at least make the place seem less like a disaster zone. Eventually we managed to clear everything away and we locked up the door to the villa and deposited the keys according to the instructions left by the owner.
The trip to the airport was largely silent. I think we were both still processing the events of the last 48 hours. Honestly, it seemed like it lasted much longer than that, given how fundamentally it had altered us both, as well as our relationship. I did confess to David on the flight back to Singapore that I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to leave me. But David only told me not to speak nonsense and that there was absolutely nothing that I should feel sorry or ashamed about. His declaration of continued support gave me some small comfort and assurance that we might find a way back to the couple we were before this whole event.
Touching down at Changi Airport we were alerted to a new mail that had been sent to us while we were in the air. It turned out to be from Simon, and it contained a link to a file sharing site that hosted a single large video file. We needed no clues as to what were the contents of the video. Along with the link was a short note in which Simon apologised for the deception.
“David, Amy–I apologize for the deception at the villa. To achieve the ’loosening up’ you requested, David, I had to ensure the stakes felt real. The men were my old friends, professionals I trust. Amy, you were magnificent. You took to the role with a grace that surprised even me. You have a gift. If you ever find yourselves in Greece again, you know how to find me.”
While the contents of the note helped free an enormous weight from my shoulders that I hadn’t even realised I was carrying, part of me still worried that there would now be evidence of my depravity and sexual performance online. But I figured ‘que sera, sera!’. I resolved to devote myself to my husband and I was confident that come what may we would deal with it as a couple. I hugged David close as we made our way home.
-————-
The story is mostly over save for one last (but important) epilogue. Stay tuned in you want to know some of the aftermath and further developments after David and Amy got home.
Epilogue
[David’s perspective]
We never talked in detail about what happened that last night in Crete. I didn’t want to risk bringing up any painful memories for Amy. She kept insisting that she was okay, and on the surface that appeared to be the case. There certainly did not appear to be any lingering trauma with respect to sex, since she jumped me practically the moment we made it safely home. But I did notice some changes in the days and weeks following.
For one thing, Amy’s mannerisms changed. She seemed more assertive, especially when dealing with men. She walked with a new, predatory grace. She no longer hesitated to look a guy in the eye and call them out on something she didn’t think was right. She was also a lot more overt in the way she appraised other people, especially men, frequently looking them over from head to toe, not even bothering to disguise her intentions.
She also started using her sexuality as a weapon. Through her dressing and the way she sometimes engaged in flirty conversations, I noted how she would take pains to dress up for certain events where it would be advantageous for her to be noticed. Even when we were out on casual dates, Amy seemed to pay more attention to how others would view her. She seemed to delight sometimes in scandalising the more straight-laced segments of Singapore, appearing in tighter and more revealing attire even when just running casual errands around the neighbourhood. I had even seen older aunties scolding and hitting their husbands whose gaze lingered a little too long on my attractive wife as she sashayed through the local shops.
Needless to say our dating life kicked up a notch. We went out more frequently now as a couple, especially since the kids had their own friends and plans. Date nights were almost always bra-less these days and, more often than not, Amy went commando. Once, at a corporate dinner hosted by my company, Amy confessed to me that she was not wearing any panties! Her wardrobe also transformed. Gone were the plain frocks and comfy, baggy dresses, replaced by clothing that was often made from silkier material, with cut outs or sheer panels.
And whenever we were out as a couple she flirted outrageously with all the servers and the staff we encountered, even some females, though I had never known Amy to have any inclinations in that direction. She used her sexuality shamelessly to get little advantages, better seats in the restaurant, better and faster service at the checkout counter. In return she would often reward helpful or sometimes just more handsome staff with an ‘innocent’ peek down her blouse or a casual brush against their groin or bum. Like I said she was outrageous. But the true target of all that flirting was actually me. Amy knew well that when she did naughty things like that on our nights out, it invariably led to a hot and heavy make out session, sometimes even before we had made it home.
Amy was not the only one that changed. Our night time activities seemed to re-energise me too, and found myself with more stamina and endurance than before. And this also translated into a more willing desire to work out and exercise (after all I needed to keep up with my wife’s new found appetites). I lost about 15kg of flab and while I didn’t suddenly gain huge muscles, my clothes started to fit on me better and my waist shrank by almost 4 inches from a size 38 to a size 34.
I had never felt the urge to watch the recording of the night Simon and his friends used Amy as their sexual plaything. I had downloaded it, of course–saved it to a cloud server under a nondescript name “just in case”–but I kept it locked away like a radioactive secret.
The change in her was enough for me. She was radiant, assertive, and dangerously flirtatious. But then came the afternoon I picked up her iPad to check a flight and found a browser tab left open.
Initially, I tried to tell myself it was a rogue pop-up–a bit of digital debris. But the history was a roadmap of a secret life. It wasn’t just one site; it was a library of specific, high-intensity scenes: Asian women in bukakke videos, spit-roasted, or taking on multiple men, often dark skinned, at once. Link after link showed a woman, often Asian, being fucked in multiple positions by multiple men. My thumb hovered over the screen. It wasn’t just porn. It was a mirror of that night in Crete.
She wasn’t just “okay” with what had happened. She was chasing the ghost of it. ‘Is this what Amy is into now?’ I wondered to myself.
The air in the room felt suddenly thin. My fingers moved without conscious thought, navigating away from the browser and toward my own private cloud server. My heart thudded against my ribs–the same rhythm, perhaps, as the pounding on that villa door weeks ago. I found the file Simon had sent.
The thumbnail was a blur of tanned skin and white sheets. I realized then that I couldn’t live in the “after” without finally seeing the “during.” I clicked the link.
THE END.