All holes, all night

With my apartment spotless and my body refreshed, I decided to indulge. I hit the tanning salon, letting the warmth soak into my skin until I was glowing with a golden sheen. At the nail salon, I picked out a deep, glossy red for my manicure-bold, dangerous, and perfect for the night ahead. I thought about getting my hair done, but laughed to myself. There was no point; I knew exactly what would happen to it.

As I was leaving the salon, my phone buzzed. It was Max.

Max:
You still up for tonight? The guys are prepped. We’ll take care of you.

Me:
Always. Safe word’s the same. And no surprises.

Max:
No surprises. Just you, me, Bob, Mark, and the cross. We’ll start slowly. You’re in control.

Me:
I trust you. But don’t go easy on me.

Max:
Never. You’re my good girl. I love filling you up.

His words sent a shiver through me, and my mind flashed back to that night months ago-when Max was supposed to pull out but didn’t. I remembered the heat of his nine-inch dick pounding into me, the rush as he came deep inside, and then the panic weeks later when I missed my period. The ER doctor’s detached words: “spontaneous abortion.” A miscarriage. I’d bled for weeks, guilt and grief tangling in my chest. Since then, my birth control pills have been my armor, and I rarely use condoms unless I’m on antibiotics. Tonight, I felt ready for anything, knowing I was safe and in control of my body.

When I arrived at Max’s place just outside of town, the air was thick with anticipation. The men were already there, lounging in their boxer briefs, their dicks all thick, long, and hard-each one a solid nine inches and already straining with need. Max greeted me first, his hands possessive on my hips, his lips brushing my ear. “Ready to be my good girl tonight?” he murmured.

“Yes,” I breathed, shivering as he led me to the St. Andrew’s cross. He fastened my wrists, his voice low and rough. “Remember last time?” he whispered, his fingers trailing down my spine. “Tonight, I’m going to fill you until you can’t take any more.”

He started with teasing, his hands roaming, lips finding every sensitive spot. Then he pressed inside me, slow at first, then harder, deeper. Each thrust was raw and unfiltered, skin against skin, the kind of sex that left no room for anything but sensation. He fucked me until I was gasping, begging, my body trembling with every climax. He came in me, again and again - seven times, each time his cum spilling deep inside me, each time he praised me, told me how perfect I was, how much he loved seeing me take it all.

Bob entered next, his shy smile belying the hunger in his eyes. He clipped nipple clamps on me, the sharp bite making me arch and moan. He stroked a feather over my skin, teasing, making my nerves sing. Then he slid a thick extender over his nine-inch dick and pressed into me, the stretch exquisite, the fullness overwhelming. “You’re the queen of taking big dicks,” he murmured, thrusting deep, making me shudder. He took his time, savoring every reaction, every gasp and whimper. He filled me up with cum five times, each orgasm making me cry out, each time his cum mixing with Max’s, dripping from me, making me feel so thoroughly wanted.

Mark’s energy was electric as he handcuffed me to the headboard, his touch both tender and demanding. He dripped hot wax onto my nipples, the sting making me whimper, then soothed the burn with his tongue. He slid inside me, hard and relentless, his hands gripping my hips as he drove into me with his own impressive nine inches. “You should be worshipped,” he whispered, voice reverent and wild all at once. He fucked me with abandon, and every time he came-nine times in all-he made sure I felt every pulse, every spurt of cum filling me up, overflowing, marking me as his.

By midnight, I was high on pleasure and anticipation, my body humming, my mind floating as the three men surrounded me. Max caught my chin, his eyes searching mine. “Still want this, good girl?”

“Yes,” I whispered, breathless, my voice barely a whisper. “I want all of you.”

They positioned me - Max at my mouth, Bob at my pussy, Mark at my ass - their dicks stretching me impossibly wide. They moved in sync, alternating, filling every hole, their groans mingling with my cries. I lost count of how many times they came, but I knew I was overflowing, their cum leaking from me, my body shaking with exhaustion and satisfaction. Each man praised me, worshipped me, told me how perfect I was, how much they loved seeing me filled by all of them.

When dawn crept in, we lay tangled together, my body sore and sated, every part of me marked by their hands, their mouths, their cum. Max stroked my hair, his voice soft. “You did so well, good girl. Rest now. We’ll take care of you.”

I drifted off, a smile on my lips, already dreaming of the next time I’d let myself be completely, utterly shared.

The next morning, sunlight crept through the curtains, and I blinked awake, my body deliciously sore and marked by the night’s indulgence. The scent of sex and sweat lingered in the air, a tangible reminder of everything we’d shared. I stretched, feeling the ache in my hips and thighs, and reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. With practiced routine, I took my birth control pill, swallowing it down and smiling at the small, empowering ritual.

Max stirred beside me, his hand tracing lazy circles on my back. “Good morning, good girl,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. I glanced around to see Bob and Mark waking too, their eyes glinting with mischief and hunger even after the marathon night.

Without needing words, the anticipation built again between us. They gathered around me, their bodies warm and eager, their dicks already hard and heavy - each one as thick and long as I remembered, all over nine inches, ready for more. Max brushed my hair from my face, searching my eyes. “You still want this?” he asked, voice low and full of care.

“Yes,” I whispered, my consent clear and eager. “I want all of you again.”

They moved in perfect rhythm, positioning me just as they had before - Max at my mouth, Bob at my pussy, Mark at my ass. The stretch, the fullness, the sensation of being surrounded and claimed by them all at once was overwhelming and intoxicating. They switched places, each man taking his turn in every spot, their hands and mouths worshipping every inch of my body. The room filled with the sounds of pleasure - moans, gasps, whispered encouragement - as they each pushed me higher and higher.

Again and again, they filled me, their cum spilling deep inside until I was overflowing, my body trembling with satisfaction and exhaustion. When they were finally spent, we collapsed together in a tangle of limbs and laughter, the morning sun painting us in golden light.

I lay there, sated and cherished, my body marked by their touch and my mind already drifting to the next time we’d share ourselves so completely. I was Max’s good girl, and together with Bob and Mark, I knew I was exactly where I wanted to be-desired, cared for, and utterly fulfilled. And not a drop of cum wasted.