"You taken it up the butt before?" the guy behind me asked, his arms rigid around me but his hands softly rubbing my breasts.
I tried to tell my nipples to go soft, but the traitorous things stayed hard as pebbles, poking out further if that was even possible. I shook my head yes, thinking of the boyfriend who'd convinced me to try it once. He wasn't my boyfriend long after, that was for sure.
"Yeah, I figured you for an anal slut."
"Mmph!" I protested.
"I think that's an enthusiastic 'hell yeah!'" he chuckled.
I'd have given him a piece of my mind just then if he hadn't started moving again, and instead I squealed as he drove forward.
The assault on my ass practically pushed me onto my frontal abuser. His previous attentions had me sopping wet, even if I wasn't feeling anywhere near as aroused now that I had the equivelant of a red-hot poker sticking up my ass.
"Her brow's got the cutest little crease up the middle. I think she's pissed at you," Cigarette Man drawled. I'd have tried to bite his hand, but my lips were in the way. Besides, he chose that moment to start diddling my clit, and I found that even the slow sawing in my backdoor began to fade a bit.
"Spitfires always like it rougher. Relax the buns of steel, Supergirl!" he said again, and took one hand from my breasts and smacked my ass. I yelped, the startlement unclenching my backside enough for him to dive in some more. Surely God he must be almost balls-deep, right?
"Wish I could've lubed it a bit in your cunt, or at least spit on it, but I guess this'll have to do," he said, reaching to a beer bottle sitting on the table beside the door.
I whimpered a bit as he pulled back out. If my buns truly were of steel you'd have heard a horrendous screeching sound as he dragged himself almost entirely out.
Cigarette Man took his partner's exit as an opportunity to do a bit of his own in and out action, and during that blissful break from the butt-fucking I found myself getting aroused again.
Then the asshole had to to ruin it by shoving himself into my butt again.
"Oh man!" Cigarette Man cried out. "She clenches up so good when you push in. Do it again!" he urged.
I wanted to smack him and say "don't do it again don't do it again!" but of course they seemed to willfully misunderstand my cross expression and protesting words as encouragement. At least it seemed to be getting easier.
I couldn't see it but I knew after several strokes more beer applied. Each inward thrust made me clench my pussy on its guest, making Cigarette Man move faster, and as he increased his speed and my pussy began to drool like a fool again the buttfucking seemed to become easier. The inward strokes became less like a saw, going in with less and less pain. Maybe I was getting looser or maybe the beer was actually lubricating me.
When the pain stopped being the only thing I was feeling, and when I actually felt something other than a burning invasion of my bunghole I wondered if maybe the beer on his cock was making me drunk. It became more of a certainty in my mind as his subsequent plunges were re-doused with the beer and I felt the fire in my butt become more like the one in my front; namely, pleasurable.
Oh God, I thought. I was actually getting pleasure out of a giant cock in my ass. Worse, I was going to have to admit to the bastard that I'd liked it. My only hope was to not come. I might never see him again but I'd always hear him crowing in my mind if I came.
"There you go," he whispered in my ear. "Now it's going in nice and easy-like, isn't it?" he asked, smacking my butt again. I actually had the chance to free my arm, to maim someone, but my traitorous hand curled around Cigarette Man's waist, pulling him in harder.
A few more piledrivers, front and back, and I was horrified to realize that I'd begun to rock my pelvis back and forth, pushing one and then the other deeper. Pussy, ass, pussy, ass.
The bastard at my back chuckled, kneading my breasts harder, tweaking my nipples. "Supergirl likes a cock between her buns of steel, doesn't she?" he asked.
Cigarette Man was panting with effort now, and when his hands slipped from my mouth I was able to finally tell him off good and proper.
"Bastard," I gasped, "Harder!"
I was going to have to work on my insults later when I wasn't feeling quite so drunk.
The two obliged, and while the man at my front went wild with a frenzy of hard thrusts the man behind me would draw himself out all the way before slamming himself in. Each thrust made me cry out, and my hands went from pulling the cock into my pussy to pushing my ass back on the log ravaging my rectum.
When the first orgasm hit it was a complete surprise. I froze in astonishment and delight, completely losing control of my own body. Something liquid sprayed from my cunt like it never had before. Seconds later I felt something squirt back up inside me, and dimly realized the cock in front of me was lodged deep, unmoving in my spasming depths.
I tried to make him move, to jerk myself up and down, mewling in frustration as I failed. Only the dick in my ass kept moving, kept the sensations pouring in, and the feel of Cigarette Man's spunk emptying into me started a second orgasm, even though he'd stopped moving.
"God," he cried out, slipping free of me with a slurp. I tried to pull him back in, but he moved away, shaking his dick a couple of times before tucking it back in his pants.
Holding onto the door frame, my legs slowly giving way I watched him turn to go.
"You're a good fuck," he said as he turned to go, like that was what I wanted to hear.
I wanted to ask him his name, opened my name to utter the words, but my legs gave out, and the bastard behind me caught me and lowered me to the floor, and resumed pile-driving his way up my rear. After a moment I arched my head, looking to see where the other man had gone, wanting to know who at least one of my fuckers was.
But he was gone. |