The afternoon sun cut across my tanned legs, warming my skin as my fingers traced lazy circles over my stomach. I had stripped my tanned 5’6, 125 pound body down to just my little wet panties. I had just been wearing the cutest little neon green loose flappy short shorts and a crop top t shirt. They lay on the floor beside the bed now. My firm breasts stood up and wanted mouths on the nipples or a cock inbetween them. My mind drifted, the way it always did when I was alone and restless, back to all the times I’d gotten myself into trouble teasing men who were already hard and leaking. If you read some of my previous adventures/misadventures on here I deserved it all for being such a tease. It was expensive to be a little slutty tease though, I thought with a smirk tugging at my lips. So many running shorts, jean shorts, string bikinis, and flimsy little dresses had been ripped off my body and torn to shreds. What outfit would you make me your slut in? Some articles of clothing were kept as trophies by the men who’d destroyed them. Others, the ones that survived, I kept for myself, wearing them just to remember how I’d been violated in them. That memory alone made me wetter than anything else.
I slipped my hand under the waistband of my panties, my fingers finding my clit already swollen and slick. I thought about my boyfriend, how he loved to watch me get used by multiple men like a little cum dumpster. He helped set up some of my adventures. He loved the ones most where I ran in the skimpiest running outfits and was used by 30-40 men and left a crying mess out in the woods needing to be collected by him after the cum filling. He loved how I’d wiggle and fight and squirm, only to be stripped down and filled in every hole.
The feeling of swollen, pulsating cocks inside me just as they were about to unload their baby juice made me ravenous and helpless. I loved dressing like a fuck magnet—the skimpier the better. The less clothing, the more my tight, tanned body showed. It left nothing to the imagination, and I wanted it that way. The more men the better.
My favorite fantasy always started the same: me in a tiny string black bikini that barely covered my nipples, walking into a room full of large, muscular black men. They’d surround me, their eyes hungry, their cocks already pressing against their pants. I’d pretend to be shy, try to cover myself, but they’d just laugh and grab me. “Please, don’t,” I’d whimper, but my pussy would be dripping, betraying me. They’d tear the bikini off my body like it was tissue paper, leaving me naked and trembling. Then they’d manhandle me like a toy, like a slave. They’d pass me around, filling my mouth, my pussy, my ass, all at once. I’d be crying, but not from pain—from how fucking good it felt to be so completely used. They’d leave me on the bed, covered in cum, my holes leaking, my belly swollen with their seed. And I’d just lie there, crying and smiling, knowing I was nothing but their cum bucket.
My fingers moved faster, circling my clit, pressing hard. I could almost feel their hands on me, their cocks stretching me open. “Fuck, yes,” I whispered to the empty room, my hips bucking against my hand. “Use me, fill me up, don’t stop.” My other hand grabbed my breast, pinching my nipple hard, the way they would. I imagined being bent over, my face pressed into the damp sex smelling mattress, a cock in my ass and another in my pussy, both of them pounding me without mercy. Hands digging into my little hips. I’d be screaming, begging for more, even as tears streamed down my cheeks.id want their cum so fucking badly! My tight assholes would milk out every last bit.
I got hooked on gangbangs the first time when I was 18 and in College. I’d worn a tiny denim skirt and a white crop top to a party, no bra, no panties. My body was tight and perfect. I’d teased a group of guys all night, bending over just enough to show the curve of my ass, letting them see the outline of my pussy through the thin fabric. By the end of the night, they’d cornered me in a bedroom, ripped the skirt off, and taken turns on me until I couldn’t walk straight. The entire football team had a go at me . I still had that skirt, torn at the seam, and I’d worn it just last week, remembering how they’d filled me. It made me so wet I’d had to excuse myself to the bathroom to finger myself.
Another memory flashed: a beach trip where I’d worn a string bikini so small it might as well have been dental floss. A group of lifeguards had pulled me into a storage shed, ripped the suit off, and used me for hours. They’d left me lying on a pile of life jackets, covered in their cum, my pussy sore and dripping. I’d walked back to my boyfriend with their seed still inside me, and he’d just smiled and asked if I’d had fun.
“God, I’m such a slut,” I moaned, my fingers plunging inside my pussy now, three of them, fucking myself hard. “I need it, I need a big cock inside me right now.” My hips lifted off the bed, my body arching as I chased the orgasm building deep in my core. I thought about being on my knees, a cock in each hand, another in my mouth, my jaw aching as I sucked them dry. I thought about being on my back, legs spread wide, a man pounding into me while another fucked my ass, their rhythm brutal and unrelenting. I thought about the moment they’d all come at once, filling every hole, their cum mixing inside me, leaking out and pooling on the bed.
My fingers curled inside me, hitting that spot, and I cried out. “Yes, yes, fuck me, fill my pussy, make me your little cum dumpster!” My clit throbbed under my thumb, and then it hit—a gushing, spraying orgasm that soaked my hand, my thighs, the sheets. I screamed, my body convulsing, my pussy clenching around my fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me. I could feel the wetness spraying out, hear the slick sound of it, and it only made me come harder.
When it finally stopped, I lay there panting, my hand still buried in my soaked panties, my body trembling. The sheets were a mess, my thighs glistening with my own juices. I smiled, a lazy, satisfied smile.
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