Sell My Soul (Sixty Days 1)

“Open wide,” he groaned, and I did. My eyes screwed tight as he jammed his dick in all the way to my tonsils. My cheeks puffed up as I spluttered.

“We shouldn’t be fucking doing this,” good guy said, but his resolve was weakening. I could hear it.

“Shut up and grab those fucking tits,” dickhead said, but it wasn’t my tits that felt the warmth of contact.

It was guy number three that slid his palms up my bare thighs and tugged my skirt up over my ass.

“Mouth is busy,” he grunted, “pussy will do just fine.”

I retched around the dick in my mouth but it jammed in harder. I wasn’t expecting the drunk fingers hooking underneath from behind to rub my pussy through my knickers.

“Grab her fucking tits, Jake. She fucking wants it,” dickhead said again, and good guy Jake came a little closer.

My faith in humanity died completely. Buried forever.

I retched harder on dick and my eyes filled and spilled. The fingers between my legs were rough on my clit and I shouldn’t like it. Shouldn’t want it.

So why did I spread my thighs that little bit wider and arch my back for more? Why did I whimper through the retches and suck my cheeks into hollows like I was every bit the slut I’d promised to be?

When good guy Jake finally buckled and slipped his hand into my cleavage, I didn’t know myself.

I hoped the beautiful monster could see this. Could see me like this.

I hoped he could see how good I could be if he made me take it.

The tear of lace panties sounded loud between my legs but I didn’t care.

The devil on my shoulder was laughing hard; the angel on the other side had long since bailed.

My mouth was sloppy, but dickhead Chris kept on thrusting, poking my throat like a drunk ape at a zoo disco as his hips rocked back and forth.

Jake was rougher with my tits now, gripping nice and tight as he tugged at my nipple. I’m sure his spare hand was on his own dick, reservations be fucked.

“Fuck her, Ryan,” Chris said. “Give the slut’s pussy the pounding she fucking needs.”

Ryan.

Chris, Jake and Ryan.

The trio of gentlemen I’d figured could save a damsel in distress.

Fingers splayed my pussy lips wide and I felt so exposed in the open air.

“Fuck yes,” Ryan snarled and I knew it was coming.

I braced myself, slavering and spluttering as Chris picked up pace with my mouth.

“She’s so fucking wet for me,” Ryan grunted, and he was telling the truth.

I was so fucking wet for him. Wet for them.

But it was more than that.

I was wet for the man in the shadows and everything he’d do to me.

Whatever he’d do to me.

“Fuck her!” Chris snapped, and I felt Ryan’s dick push against my wetness, hot and hard and so fucking ready.

And then it was gone.

I heard the thump of a body on the sand before the dick was ripped from my sopping mouth. I coughed up spit and spluttered like a drowning girl, eyes wide through the tears as the huge figure overhead dragged the douche to his feet.

“Bedtime for dirty little boys,” the beautiful man said.Chapter TenBrandonDrunks were always easy to take down, but these college pricks were even easier. Three idiot fish in a barrel, too absorbed by their swollen balls to see me coming.

I slammed the first asshole backwards, wrenching him from the promise of tight pink pussy with a no-nonsense grip on his jugular. The guy with his dick down her throat was in a headlock a heartbeat later, flailing weakly with his sorry man meat stringing spit all the way to her gulping mouth.

“Bedtime for dirty little boys,” I said and slammed him down onto the rising frame of asshole number three.

I drove my foot into throat-fucker’s gut before he was down on the floor. The heavy thud was music to my ears.

Pained grunts.

Coughing and flailing limbs.

A pile of useless flesh squirming around the sand.

I loved dishing out retribution for a crime that shouldn’t have been one. My smile was dark as I took a step back and pulled a fresh cigarette from my pocket.

“You have thirty seconds to get the fuck off this beach, or I’ll put you to sleep on it,” I said.

I gave them ten as I lit up and took a drag.

“Time’s fucking ticking if you want to make it out of here with your balls intact.”

It was idiot number three who upped and bailed first. The other two weren’t far behind, bandy legs doing little to carry them straight as they retreated.

Boys.

Nothing but sad little boys.

I watched them up and off the beach as I finished up my smoke, only turning my attention behind me once I was done.

And there she was. My confused little dirty girl. Every bit as shocked as I imagined she would be as she shuffled on her haunches.