Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
The silence after that seemed to roar.
Porter smiled very slightly. “I thought you might.”
What happened next felt dreamlike. Gowry withdrew, and the emptiness in my pussy made me clench around nothing with shameful protest. Porter moved me, guiding me down from the table with one hand at my waist and another at my arm. My legs trembled so badly that I would have stumbled if he hadn’t controlled the transition. He sat down on the couch behind me, spreading his thighs, and drew me with him until I understood.
I made a tiny desperate sound.
“Yes,” he said. “You asked for it. Come here.”
He positioned me over him, my back to his chest, my feet atop his trouser-covered knees. I could feel his cock at my anus already, firm and very slick from my mouth. One arm came around my waist, holding me firmly. His other hand went between my legs, touching my pussy once, as if to make sure I was still wet. The confirmation of it humiliated me anew.
Then he lowered me.
The firm pressure against the tiny hole made me gasp and go stiff. He went slowly, as always. His arm held me inexorably as he guided me down by fractions onto his shaft. The stretch opened in a ring of heat and discomfort and impossible intimacy. My bottom, already trained by him, yielded more quickly than it had yet. That realization itself shamed me so deeply that I moaned from the thought alone. I felt him entering me, filling that little place, and all I could do was cling to his arm and let him seat me, settle me onto his hard manhood.
“There,” he murmured against my hair. “Take it.”
I took it. I sat trembling, impaled on my sponsor’s cock, my poor whipped ass stretched around him while Gowry came to stand in front of me.
My cunt clenched at the sight of him advancing between my spread knees and Porter’s. The senator put his right hand on my hip, looked directly into my face for one moment as if to be sure I understood my own disgrace, and then guided his penis into my pussy with his left.
The sensation nearly stopped my heart.
I cried out loud enough that the sound echoed in the corners of the office. Porter held me steady while Gowry filled my cunt from the front and my sponsor’s cock occupied my anus from behind. I had wanted it. I had begged for it. The reality still felt impossible, monstrous, glorious. My body seemed too small to contain the stretch and fullness and pressure in both passages at once.
Gowry began to move first, slow enough that every inch registered. His cock worked in and out of my cunt while Porter kept me lowered on his own hardness, then began giving me small, controlled thrusts upward from beneath. The two motions met inside me and made my mind go white.
“Oh… oh, God…”
“Easy,” Porter said in my ear. “Take your cocks like a good little girl.”
My cocks. Good little girl. The phrases sent a shock through me so severe that I nearly sobbed.
Gowry’s grip on my hips tightened. “It’s a sweet little cunt,” he said, looking down where our bodies joined. “Much better trained than the last time I was in it.”
Porter gave a small sound behind me that might have been satisfaction. “Yes. She’s learned. And, like I said, this naughty bottom opens sweetly when she’s handled properly.”
I thought I might die of shame. Instead I clenched on both men at once.
Gowry noticed at once. “Oh, her cunt likes this,” he said. “Very much.”
“It does,” Porter said calmly. “You can feel what a little whore she is every time you fuck her, now.”
My body had become a place where their observations came true as soon as they were spoken. I felt every inch of Gowry’s cock in my pussy and every inexorable rise of Porter beneath me in my ass, and when I tightened around them again it seemed less like a choice than like a reflex of worship.
The room began to lose its edges.
I could still see Gowry’s hard face above me, the dark wood, the heavy leather, the gleam of the windows at the edge of my vision. But those things had become less important than the unbearable fact of being filled. The office had turned into a place… a site… a worksite, almost… all for my disgrace. The couch, Porter’s arm around my waist, Gowry’s hands at my hips, the six burning cane stripes on my bottom, the red lace bra still absurdly clinging to my breasts while both my lower holes were used by men discussing me in the third person as if I were a device or a pet—all of it had joined into one single overwhelming reality.
“Sir,” I gasped, and then again, more helplessly, “sir…”