We Brought Friends

It wasn’t even a question anymore.

Tiffany had shown up to the office on Monday in a cream blouse with no bra, her nipples visibly hard through the fabric. Her skirt barely brushed mid-thigh.

You saw Mason stare as she leaned over the coffee machine.

Ethan dropped his pen just to catch a glimpse when she bent to pick something up.

But the moment that sealed it?

When Derek opened his phone mid-meeting, turned the screen just slightly—and showed them all.

It was Tiffany.

Face down on the patio table from the retreat.

Ass spread open by two hands.

Three used condoms hanging from the edge of the frame.

She was twitching. Moaning. Cum leaking from both holes.

And smiling.

They couldn’t stop watching.

They didn’t even pretend to be subtle anymore.

So the next time Tiffany asked if the guys wanted to grab drinks Friday, Ethan just said it:

“We already invited some others. Hope you don’t mind.”

She blinked.

Then smiled.

“Only if you film it.”

⸻

The Airbnb was bigger this time.

Downtown.

Penthouse view.

Pool. Rooftop access.

When Tiffany walked in, she didn’t say hi.

She just pulled her top over her head, kicked off her heels, and dropped to her knees in the living room.

She didn’t ask who was watching.

There were five of you.

And five new guys.

Strangers.

Clients. Friends of friends.

No names exchanged. Just open zippers and waiting grins.

She looked around the room—chest heaving, thighs already damp.

“Who wants my throat first?”

⸻

They lined up.

The first one grabbed her by the hair, fed himself in deep.

She gagged instantly, spit bubbling at her lips.

The others held her arms behind her, laughing as she struggled to breathe.

She loved it.

One by one, they used her mouth like it was just a warm hole.

When she coughed, they slapped her face.

When she cried, they came.

Across her tits.

Her tongue.

Her eyes.

They smeared it in. Filmed every angle.

You fed her your cock while another pressed into her ass from behind.

Her body arched—familiar, needy—like she couldn’t take anything else until she had everything.

Three cocks in her at once.

Her pussy stuffed and spilling.

She begged for more.

“Please… more in my ass…”

“Make me full…”

“Don’t let me rest…”

⸻

The new guys started playing rougher.

They held her legs open while someone spit in her cunt.

Slapped her tits while she was fucked sideways.

One tied her arms behind her back with her own thong.

Another forced her to hold eye contact as he painted her face.

Every time she came—her body shaking, toes curled, voice cracking—they cheered.

“She’s a fucking cum addict now.”

“Look at this bitch drool when she gags.”

“She was made for this.”

⸻

When her holes began to gape again, they didn’t pull out.

They kept going.

They fed her nonstop.

Fucked her until she passed out for a minute, then woke up gasping, moaning, still clenching.

They brought out toys.

Double stuffed her ass while fucking her pussy raw.

They made her count her loads.

She lost count at eleven.

But her mouth kept moving:

“Put it all in me…”

“Don’t waste a drop…”

“Film it. Please. Let me see…”

And they did.

They showed her footage as they used her.

She came watching herself beg.

⸻

By the end, Tiffany was limp—twitching, tongue hanging, gaping wide.

Her pussy, red and swollen, poured white.

Her ass wouldn’t close.

Her face was a canvas.

They left her like that.

Plugged.

Tied.

Smiling.