Fiction, Anal, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Dark fiction, Group Sex, Humiliation, Males / Female, Oral Sex, Reluctance, Teen Male / Female, Threesome, Written by women
The phone buzzed against my thigh, snapping me out of the DVD’s hypnotic glow. Vicky’s name flashed on the screen, third call today. My thumb hovered over the decline button, but guilt twisted my stomach. She’d texted again: *Seriously, Sarah, wtf happened? You vanished.* The clock read 9:47 PM. I’d been watching the footage on loop for hours, my body sore from relentless touching.
Jay's voice echoed from the TV speakers, "That's it, take it deeper, slut" as my phone buzzed again. This time, I grabbed it, my voice hoarse from disuse. "Vicky. Hey."
"Jesus Christ, Sarah!" Vicky's voice was sharp with relief and irritation. "I've been calling hospitals and everything. You just disappeared!"
"I know, I..." My voice cracked as Jay's laughter from the DVD drowned out my thoughts. The footage showed me arching my back while two hands pinned my hips down. I lunged for the remote, pausing it just as my own moan filled the room. "I got... really drunk. Woke up somewhere else. It's fuzzy."
Vicky exhaled sharply through her nose. "Bullshit. You never black out. What happened?"
The pause stretched too long. Vicky's sigh crackled through the speaker. "Sarah. You're scaring me."
The phone slipped in my sweaty palm. Jay’s paused smirk on the TV screen felt like a taunt. "It's... complicated," I whispered, staring at my reflection in the darkened screen, puffy-eyed, hair tangled from hours of frantic touching.
"Complicated?" Vicky’s voice dropped to a whisper. "Did someone hurt you?" The question hung in the air like a held breath. I could hear her keys jingling in the background, she was already heading out the door.
"No, I was with Ash, my ex," I lied, pressing the phone tighter to my ear as if that could somehow bury the truth deeper. "I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d go mad."
"Ash?" Vicky's voice cracked like ice underfoot. The jingling keys stopped dead. "You fucking lied to me about him?" Her breath hitched, the kind of pause that meant she was either counting to ten or deciding which of my organs to remove first.
"I know, I'm sorry. But it's all good, just a moment of weakness when I saw him at the party," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose hard enough to leave crescent moon indents. The lie tasted like copper pennies. On screen, my paused digital self knelt with lips parted around nothing, frozen in eternal hunger.
"OK," she said, the skepticism in her voice thicker than the silence between us. "But you sure you're okay?" The cushions shifted as I curled my toes, my bare legs sticking to the leather sofa where I’d spent the last hour writhing. The DVD menu screen had gone to sleep, leaving the TV a dull black mirror, my reflection staring back, hollow-eyed, lips bitten raw.
"Yeah, all good," I lied, the words sticking to the roof of my mouth like stale wine. "I did lose my purse though, had my driving license and bank cards in it!" The lie tumbled out too fast, my fingers twisting the hem of my strappy top into knots.
Vicky exhaled sharply. "Christ, Sarah, that’s the third time this year. You’re lucky I’ve got your spare debit card from when we went to Ibiza." Her voice softened. "Want me to come over? I can bring pizza. The shitty kind with extra grease to soak up your regrets."
"No, it's too late, I've got work in the morning," I said, pressing the phone harder against my ear like I could physically shove the lie deeper into reality. "I'll speak to you in the week."
"OK, take care," Vicky said before the line went dead. The silence that followed felt heavier than the blanket I'd been wrapped in at Jay's place. I tossed the phone onto the coffee table, watching it skid to a stop beside the DVD case, its glossy surface catching the lamplight like a wink.
The DVD menu screen flickered back to life, casting blue shadows across my thighs. My fingers twitched toward the remote, just one more replay, just to see, when a sharp knock rattled the front door. My breath hitched. Jay wouldn’t… not this soon. The knock came again, harder.
The knock turned into three sharp raps, the kind that meant business. I froze, my toes curling into the sofa cushions, heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. The DVD remote slipped from my grip, clattering onto the hardwood floor. Not now. Not fucking now.
The knocking stopped. For three heartbeats, there was only the hum of the refrigerator and the faint, tinny moans still leaking from the TV’s paused footage. Then the letterbox rattled open.
A folded piece of paper fluttered through the letterbox, landing softly on the doormat. The edges curled slightly, as if whoever had slipped it in had been gripping it too tightly. My bare feet made no sound as I crept forward. The paper smelled faintly of cigarette smoke when I picked it up, unfolding it with fingers that refused to stop trembling.
The note was written in jagged, masculine handwriting, Jay’s, no doubt, but the words blurred as my hands shook.
The note read: *Tomorrow. 8 PM. Be naked* The letters were pressed so hard into the paper they’d nearly torn through.
The paper crumpled in my fist as my knees gave out, my back sliding down the door until I hit the floor. My breath came in jagged gasps, the note's edges digging into my palm. Outside, gravel crunched under retreating footsteps.
The footsteps faded, leaving only the hum of the fridge and my own shallow breaths. The crumpled note in my hand felt like a lit fuse. I stared at the DVD case still glinting on the table, his first proof, but definitely not his last. My fingers twitched. Part of me wanted to smash it, burn it, anything to erase what happened. Another part, the traitorous part, throbbed between my thighs at the memory.
The crumpled note slipped from my fingers as I pressed my palms against my temples, trying to squeeze out the images flickering behind my eyelids, Jay’s smirk, the boys’ laughter, my own moans looping like a broken record. The DVD’s menu music droned on, a techno beat that made my teeth ache. I lunged for the remote and jammed the power button, plunging the room into silence so thick I could hear my pulse in my ears.
The pillowcase was damp and cold against my cheek when I woke, the taste of salt still clinging to my lips. Dawn light crept through the gap in the curtains, painting a thin stripe across the crumpled note still on the floor where I’d dropped it. My head pounded, half from the wine, half from the crying, but the ache between my thighs was worse, a relentless pulse that refused to be ignored.
The day felt like a blur, all I could think about was what would happen at 8pm. My coffee went cold as I stared at the office spreadsheet, numbers swimming before my eyes like alphabet soup. Clients asked questions I only half-answered, my fingers tapping nervous rhythms against the desk. Every clock tick sounded like a countdown.
The key turned stiffly in the lock, sticking halfway like even my own front door was resisting me. I kicked it shut harder than necessary, my heels clacking against the hardwood as I dumped my bag on the kitchen counter. The red digits on the microwave glared 6:03 PM—two hours until Jay’s "appointment." My stomach twisted as I rummaged through the fridge, grabbing a bottle of rosé without bothering with a glass. The first gulp tasted like vinegar, but the second went down smoother, the alcohol already warming the icy dread pooling in my gut.
The wine bottle was finished by 7:15 PM. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, wiping condensation off the glass with a trembling hand. Steam curled around my bare shoulders, I'd scrubbed every inch of skin raw, as if hot water could melt away the memory of their hands. My reflection stared back, pupils dilated, lips parted. The bathroom light flickered, casting shadows that made the bruises on my hips look darker.
The clock ticked past 7:30 PM. My fingers tightened around the sink’s edge as another wave of nausea hit, half from the wine, half from the dread coiling in my stomach. The bathroom tiles were cold under my bare feet when I stepped out, droplets from my shower still tracing paths down my thighs. A draft slithered through the cracked window, making the note on the floor flutter like a dying moth. *Be naked.*
The digital clock on the microwave blinked 7:47 PM, each pulse of red light syncing with the hammering in my chest. My towel slipped to the floor as I stared at my naked reflection in the hallway mirror, pale skin, damp hair clinging to my shoulders, nipples already stiffening in the cool air. A car engine growled outside, cutting off abruptly. Gravel crunched under heavy footsteps.
The footsteps stopped right outside my door. My breath hitched, too soon, it wasn’t eight yet. The knock at the door, sharp and insistent, made me flinch, my damp palms leaving smudges on the mirror.
The fisheye lens distorted their faces into grotesque grins, Jay front and centre, flanked by three others whose names I didn’t know but whose bodies I remembered. Their breath fogged the peephole glass, condensation blooming and receding with each impatient exhale. Jay’s knuckles rapped against the door again, harder this time, the sound vibrating through the wood and into my bare feet. His voice, muffled but unmistakable: "Open the fucking door, Sarah.
We know you’re home."
The doorknob rattled under Jay’s grip, the metal clicking like a warning. My pulse throbbed in my throat, my reflection in the mirror wide-eyed and trembling. The towel pooled at my feet, forgotten.
The door flew inward with a force that sent me stumbling back, my bare feet skidding on the tiles. Jay filled the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking out the hallway light, the scent of cigarette smoke and cheap aftershave rolling off him like heat. Behind him, three lads loitered with casual menace, two I recognized from the DVD, one new, his acne scars still fresh under the porch light.
"Glad to know you follow orders, slut," Jay growled, stepping into my kitchen like he owned it. His boots left wet prints on the tile, rainwater dripping from his leather jacket. Behind him, the others fanned out without being told, one shutting the door with a deliberate click that made my shoulders tense. The new kid, pimples, crooked teeth, kept licking his lips like I was a meal he couldn’t wait to taste.
"You remember Matt and Abid," Jay said, jerking his chin toward the two lads lurking by the fridge. Matt smirked, running his tongue over his teeth while Abid's thick fingers drummed against the countertop. "And this," Jay grabbed the pimpled kid by the scruff of his hoodie, shoving him forward until his trainers squeaked on the tiles, "is Tyler. Been gagging for some of your pussy since he saw the video." The boys erupted into laughter, Tyler’s neck flushing crimson under his acne.
Jay’s fingers tangled in my damp hair, wrenching my head back until my throat strained. “On your knees,” he growled, his breath hot against my ear. “Show Tyler how much you like to suck cock.” The words dripped with mockery, but my body betrayed me, heat pooling low as I sank to the tiles. Tyler’s Adam’s apple bobbed violently, his jeans already tented.
The kitchen light buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows as I knelt there, the cold tile biting into my bare knees. Tyler fumbled with his belt, his fingers shaking so badly the buckle clattered. Matt snorted, nudging Abid with his elbow. “Look at the virgin,” he sneered. Tyler’s face flushed deeper, but his eyes never left my mouth.
Tyler's cock sprang free, stiff and twitching, the tip already glistening. Jay's grip on my hair tightened, forcing my face closer until Tyler's musky scent filled my nose. "Go on," Jay murmured, his voice dark with amusement. "Show him how good you are."
The first taste was salt and skin, Tyler’s hips jerking as my lips closed around him. His gasp echoed in the kitchen, high-pitched and shaky, his hands fluttering at his sides like wounded birds. Behind me, Jay chuckled, his fingers tightening in my hair, guiding me deeper until Tyler’s blunt tip bumped the back of my throat.
Tyler's thighs trembled as I worked his shaft with my hand, the rough drag of my palm coaxing a whimper from his throat. His cock twitched against my tongue, the taste of precum bitter on my lips. Behind me, Jay’s grip on my hair shifted, his fingers tightening just enough to make my scalp sting. "Faster," he commanded, and I obeyed, my free hand bracing against Tyler’s hip to steady myself. The kid’s knees buckled, his fingers scrabbling at the countertop for balance as I sucked harder, hollowing my cheeks until his breath came in ragged gasps.
Tyler's hips stuttered forward, his cock pulsing against my tongue as hot spurts flooded my mouth. Jay's fingers twisted tighter in my hair, holding me in place while Tyler whimpered above me, his thighs quivering like a newborn deer's. I swallowed reflexively, the taste bitter-salty, thick on the back of my throat. Tyler's knees gave out halfway through, his body collapsing against the kitchen counter with a thud that made the others laugh, sharp, cruel barks that bounced off the tiles.
"Did you enjoy that, Tyler?" Jay asked, laughing as the kid slumped against the counter, his face flushed crimson. Tyler's lips parted, but only a wet gasp escaped, his fingers still clutching the counter like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Jay released my hair with a shove, making me rock back on my heels. "Looks like he did," he sneered, nudging Tyler's limp leg with his boot. "First time's always messy, eh?"
"Living room through here, is it?" Jay asked, already walking away without waiting for an answer. His boots left wet prints across the tiles as he disappeared down the hall, the others stood looking at me. I stayed kneeling on the cold tiles, Tyler's spent cock still twitching near my cheek, until Jay's voice snapped back like a whip: "Sarah! Now!"
My palms stung against the cold tiles as I tried to push myself up, knees wobbling, but Jay's voice cut through the kitchen like a blade. "Crawl, bitch." The words dripped with amusement, like he'd been waiting all evening to say them. Matt and Abid exchanged grins, their eyes flickering between my naked body and Tyler, still slumped against the counter, panting like he'd run a marathon.
Matt's laughter bounced off the kitchen tiles, sharp as a slap. "Fuckin' hell, look at her," he wheezed, nudging Abid so hard the stockier boy stumbled. "Proper little bitch, innit?" My palms cold against the tiles with each forward shuffle, the cold air raising goosebumps along my bare thighs. Abid's laughter came slower, deeper, his eyes dark as they tracked the sway of my hips.
The living room carpet burned against my knees as I crawled forward, every fibre catching like tiny hooks on my skin. Jay lounged on the sofa, his thick cock already hard in his fist, the head glistening under the lamplight. The TV screen reflected his smirk, same smirk as the DVD, same smirk as the note, while his free hand idly scrolled through his phone. "Come suck it, slut," he said without looking up, like he was ordering takeout.
My breath hitched as I neared him, the scent of leather and sweat thickening the air. Behind me, Matt and Abid's footsteps shuffled closer, their laughter low and anticipatory. Jay finally locked his phone, tossing it onto the cushion beside him with a soft thud. His fingers tangled in my hair again, not guiding this time, yanking. My scalp screamed as he dragged my mouth onto him, his cock hitting the back of my throat before I could even part my lips properly.
Matt’s fingers slid between my thighs with the ease of someone who knew exactly where to press. “Fuck me, so soaking,” he laughed, his breath hot against the back of my neck as his fingertips circled my clit with deliberate, practiced strokes. My hips jerked forward involuntarily, forcing Jay’s cock deeper into my throat, the sudden intrusion making me gag. Jay’s grip tightened in my hair, holding me still while Matt’s fingers worked faster, the wet sound of my own arousal embarrassingly loud in the quiet room.
Jay’s grip tightened like a vice, each thrust of his hips slamming his cock deeper down my throat until my vision blurred at the edges. My gag reflex kicked in violently, saliva dripping down my chin, but he didn’t let up, just grunted and yanked my head harder onto him, the salty-bitter taste of his pre-cum flooding my tongue. Behind me, Matt’s fingers dug into my hips, his laugh vibrating against my back as my body jerked forward with each of Jay’s rough movements.
Matt's cock found the entrance to my pussy with a slick, practiced ease, the head nudging against me like a key turning in a lock. There was no hesitation, just a brutal forward thrust that buried him balls-deep in one motion, the sudden fullness punching the air from my lungs. My cry was muffled around Jay's cock still crammed down my throat, the vibrations making him groan and tighten his grip in my hair.
Abid's rough fingers closed around my wrist, tugging my hand away from where it had been braced against Jay’s thigh. His palm was clammy against mine as he guided my fingers to the thick bulge straining against his tracksuit bottoms. "Your turn," he murmured, breath hot in my ear, his accent thicker up close. His cock pulsed under my touch through the material, hot and insistent. I barely had time to register him pulling the waist band forward, before he was shoving my hand inside, his hardness springing free into my grip, slick with precum already beading at the tip.
Jay’s hips snapped forward, his cock hitting the back of my throat with a force that sent tears streaming down my cheeks. The room blurred around me, the only clear sensations the salt of his skin on my tongue and Matt’s punishing grip on my hips as he fucked me from behind. Abid’s hand guided mine along his shaft, his breath coming faster against my ear, his murmured curses thick with need.
Matt's hips stuttered against me, his fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to leave bruises as his cock pulsed deep inside. The groan that tore from his throat was raw, almost pained, as he emptied himself in thick, hot spurts that made my own body clench involuntarily around him. His forehead dropped between my shoulder blades, breath coming in ragged gasps against my sweat-slicked skin. "Fuckin' hell," he slurred, hips still twitching weakly as he rode out the last tremors, his softening cock still wedged inside me.
"This slut has an awesome pussy," Matt laughed, the wet pop of him slipping out echoing obscenely in the sudden quiet of the living room. My thighs trembled where they pressed against the sofa cushions, warm slickness trickling down my inner thighs. Matt slumped backward onto the coffee table with a satisfied grunt, his spent cock glistening under the lamplight. The scent of sex hung thick in the air, mingling with the leather of Jay’s jacket and the faint chemical tang of Abid’s cheap body spray.
Abid's fingers lingered on my wrist for a heartbeat too long before Jay's growl cut through the humid air. "My turn to fuck the slut." The words landed like a slap, and before I
could react, Jay shoved me sideways with one brutal push of his palm against my shoulder. My elbows buckled, sending me sprawling onto the rug, palms scraping against the coarse fibers. The sudden movement made my head spin, the wine from earlier sloshing queasily in my stomach.
Jay's weight shifted behind me, the sofa cushions groaning as he moved. His fingers dug into my hips, turning me roughly until my cheek pressed against the armrest, my spine arching at an angle that made my breath hitch. Abid's scent—sweat and spearmint gum—flooded my senses as he knelt in front of me, his thick fingers threading through my hair. "Open," he murmured, his accent curling around the word like smoke. His cock brushed my lips, already slick with precum, the salt of it sharp on my tongue when I obeyed.
Jay’s fingers slid between my thighs with a rough chuckle, his calloused fingertips catching against my wetness before dragging upward, slick and deliberate. "Nice and wet," he mocked, his breath hot against the back of my neck. The pads of his fingers circled my arsehole, the pressure just shy of painful, lubricating me with my own arousal until the tight ring of muscle yielded slightly under his touch.
The scream tore from my throat around Abid's cock, muffled but raw, as Jay's finger breached me in one brutal push. My back arched up, every muscle locking in shock at the sudden intrusion. Abid's fingers tightened in my hair, holding me steady while Jay worked his finger deeper, the knuckle popping past the tight ring of muscle with a wet sound that made my ears burn.
The relief lasted only a second, Jay's finger sliding free, leaving my hole twitching and exposed, before the blunt pressure of his cockhead replaced it. My entire body locked up, the muscles in my thighs trembling violently as he teased the tip against me, his chuckle vibrating against my sweat-slicked back. "Relax, slut," he murmured, breath hot against my nape, "or this'll hurt like hell." His fingers dug into my hips, the bite of his nails grounding me in the moment even as my mind tried to flee.
Jay's hips snapped forward in one brutal thrust, his cock splitting me open with a searing pain that turned my vision white. My scream was swallowed by Abid's thick length forcing its way deeper down my throat, his fingers tightening in my hair to keep me from pulling away. Tears blurred my vision as Jay was balls deep inside me, the stretch unbearable, his low groan vibrating against my back.
Jay held himself deep inside me, his breath hot and ragged against my shoulder blades. The stretch burned, not just physically, but like my skin might split open at any second. I could feel every vein on his cock pulsing against my clenching muscles, my body fighting the intrusion even as heat pooled traitorously low in my belly. Then, without warning, he pulled back until just the tip remained before slamming home again, knocking the air from my lungs in a choked gasp around Abid’s cock.
The rhythm was merciless from the first thrust—no gradual build, just the full, brutal force of his hips pistoning against my ass. Each impact sent shockwaves through my body, my knees skidding apart on the rug, saliva dribbling past Abid’s cock onto the upholstery. Jay’s fingers dug into my hips hard enough to leave crescent-shaped bruises, his grunts syncopated with the wet slap of skin on skin.
Abid's fingers spasmed in my hair as his hips jerked forward without warning. The first thick pulse hit the back of my throat—bitter, salty warmth flooding my tongue before I could even think to swallow. His groan vibrated through me, his cock twitching violently against my palate as rope after rope painted my throat. I gagged reflexively, my nose pressed flush against his pubic bone, the scent of sweat and precum overwhelming as he held me there, swallowing convulsively around him.
Jay's thrusts never slowed, if anything they grew rougher with Abid's choked curses ringing in the air. My tears mixed with the spit slicking Abid's softening cock as he finally pulled back, panting, his hand smearing the mess across my lips when I gasped for air. "Fuckin' hell," he rasped, thumb pressing against my bottom teeth to force my mouth wider. "Look at that, proper used-up face." Behind me, Jay chuckled, his fingers digging fresh bruises into my hips as he pistoned into me with renewed vigor.
The taste lingered, metallic and musky, as Abid wiped his cockhead across my cheek before stumbling back onto the sofa. My throat burned, each ragged breath scraping raw flesh. Jay's pace turned erratic, his grunts sharper. I could feel him swelling inside me, the stretch bordering on painful as his rhythm fractured into short, brutal thrusts. "Gonna fill this tight arse," he growled, his voice thick with exertion.
Tears carved hot tracks down my cheeks, mixing with the saliva smeared across my chin. Jay’s cock pistoned into me with a rhythm that felt less like fucking and more like punishment, each thrust driving the air from my lungs in ragged bursts. I bit down on the inside of my cheek until copper flooded my tongue, anything to muffle the screams threatening to tear loose. The pain was a live wire, white-hot and searing, radiating up my spine with every brutal snap of his hips.
Jay's final thrust buried him to the hilt, his cock pulsing deep inside as hot ropes of cum flooded my arse. The sensation was overwhelming, a searing fullness that made my toes curl against the rug, my body caught between the instinct to arch away and the traitorous clench pulling him deeper. His groan vibrated against my sweat-slicked back, fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave bruises that would bloom purple by morning. "Fuck," he hissed, grinding his pelvis against me in slow, deliberate circles, milking every last drop into my trembling body.
The sudden emptiness when he pulled out was almost worse, my hole clenching around nothing, his cum already leaking down my inner thighs in warm, sticky trails. Jay collapsed onto the sofa beside me with a satisfied sigh, the leather creaking under his weight. His fingers traced the mess he'd made, smearing it across my skin like a brand. "Look at that," he chuckled, holding his glistening fingers up to the light. "Proper fucking ruined."
I fell onto the floor covering my face trying to hide my tears, pressing my palms so hard against my eyelids that colors burst behind them like dying stars. The carpet fibres scratched my bare thighs, the same ones they'd gripped and spread mere minutes ago. My breath came in jagged hitches, each inhale thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and the faint citrus of Abid's body spray clinging to my skin.
"Good little slut," Jay said as he got up off the sofa, the leather squeaking under his shifting weight. His fingers trailed down my spine, nails scraping just hard enough to make me flinch, before he straightened with a satisfied groan. Behind him, Matt and Abid were already shrugging into their jackets, their laughter sharp in the thick air. Tyler lingered near the door, his acne-scarred cheeks still flushed, eyes darting between my crumpled form and the damp spot on his tracksuit bottoms.
"We'll be seeing you really soon," Jay laughed, the promise in his voice slick as oil. He paused at the threshold, turning just enough to catch the lamplight across his smirk. "Keep that pretty arse ready." The door clicked shut behind them, the sound final as a guillotine.
The silence after the door slammed was louder than their laughter had been. I stayed curled on the rug, my cheek pressed against the rough fibre. The wetness between my thighs had started to cool, mingling with the sweat trickling down the backs of my knees. My limbs felt liquid, like my bones had dissolved under their hands. Somewhere outside, a car engine revved, two short bursts, then the squeal of tires tearing away. A signature. A promise.