Chapter 5: The Feast of Five
Jane’s rhythm was merciless, a tight, wet suction that pulled the climax from Liam in a ragged, shouting wave. He pulsed against the back of her throat, salty and thick, and she swallowed convulsively, greedily taking every drop she could. With a final, hollow pop of her cheeks, she released him, a viscous strand of pearly white clinging to her lower lip as she gasped for air.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then looked at the spill on her fingers with a dark, glittering fascination. “Waste not,” she murmured, her voice wrecked.
Scooping the remnants from his still-twitching tip, she smoothed the warm, slick fluid over the swell of her breasts where they strained against the red lace of her corset. It gleamed in the firelight. “Come on, then,” she said to the others watching, their hands stalled on her skin. “Don’t let it go cold. Help me rub it in.”
Eager hands returned, kneading her flesh, their fingers slipping and sliding through the cooling spend. The sensation was depraved and perfect—the rough pads of their thumbs on her nipples, the slick mess between her skin and their palms. She moaned, arching into the touch, a living canvas of their shared debauchery.
The ginger one still buried inside her grunted, his own control snapping. “Fuck, I’m there—”
His hips drove forward once, a final, deep punctuation, and she felt the hot flood of his release. He held himself there, shuddering, before sliding out with a wet sound. He was considerate, in a crude way; he wiped the dripping head of his cock clean in the cleft of her ass, a blunt, possessive stroke.
Jane sighed, a contented, animal sound. “That’s lovely, darling. Really.” She turned her head on the pillow, her cheek against the silk. “But now you should come here and let me clean you properly. With my mouth.”
He obeyed, stumbling around the bed, his softened cock glistening. She took him in, her tongue lapping slowly, meticulously, at the mixed taste of herself and him until he was clean, her movements tender and thorough.
Then she pushed him gently aside, her eyes finding Liam. He was half-hard again, watching her with dazed lust. “Right, you. Big boy.” She pushed herself up to her knees, her cum-smeared tits heavy. “Let’s put these to use. Between them. Now.”
He understood, shifting behind her, his impressive length nudging at the valley of her breasts as she squeezed them together. The friction was delicious, his skin hot against the sensitive, sticky flesh. She bent her head, catching the purple head of him with her lips each time it slid upward, little kitten-licks that made him curse.
“Someone else,” she panted, breaking the kiss to look at the shy one, now fully hard again. “Don’t just stand there. I’m empty. Fuck me silly. Right now.”
He moved behind her, his hands gripping her hips, and entered her with a single, smooth stroke that punched the air from her lungs. The dual sensation was overwhelming—the slow, sliding pressure on her chest, the deep, filling rhythm from behind. She was the center of a perfect, filthy machine.
“Yes,” she hissed, the word breaking into a gasp as he found a devastating angle. “Just like that. Don’t you dare stop.”
The room dissolved into a symphony of skin and breath and shuddering bedsprings. Jane let her head fall back, a string of meaningless, euphoric sounds torn from her throat, abandoning herself completely to the glorious, engineered ruin of it all.
Jane let her head fall back, a string of meaningless, euphoric sounds torn from her throat, abandoning herself completely to the glorious, engineered ruin of it all. The shy one, whose name she’d never learned, was fucking her with a focused, relentless rhythm from behind, each thrust jolting her forward into Liam’s slow, deliberate slide between her breasts. Her world had narrowed to these two points of contact, a study in contrasting pressures.
Through the haze, her gaze slid across the room. Past the discarded trousers and empty glasses, past the ginger one catching his breath near the fireplace. It landed on the fifth man, the one with close-cropped hair who’d first spoken to her at the dartboard. He was just standing there, leaning against the dresser, watching with a tightened jaw as he stroked his own thick erection. He’d helped with his hands earlier, but that was it. He was the only one whose weight she hadn’t felt, whose specific shape was still a mystery to her body.
“You,” Jane called out, her voice raspy but clear, cutting through the humid air. She lifted a hand, slick from where she’d been gripping her own knee, and crooked a finger at him. “What’s your name? The talkative one from the bar.”
“Kieran,” he said, pushing off the dresser.
“Come here, Kieran. Right now.” She didn’t stop the movement of her hips against the man behind her, nor did she stop guiding Liam with her hands. Kieran approached the side of the bed, his cock standing rigidly in his fist. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around him, her touch firm and exploring. He was different—shorter than Liam but thicker, a solid, hot weight in her palm.
“This is the only cock I haven’t properly felt yet,” she said, looking up at him while her body was used in two other ways. She stroked him slowly, learning his texture. “And I have been thinking about it. Wondering.”
“Wondering what?” Kieran breathed, his hips pushing slightly into her hand.
“How it’s going to feel in my ass,” Jane said, the words blunt and utterly direct. She saw his eyes widen, a flash of pure, animal shock and desire. “I’m really looking forward to finding out. But you have to wait your turn. Be patient for me.”
As if on cue, Liam above her groaned, a deep, guttural sound. His rhythm between her breasts stuttered, turned frantic. “Jane, I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” she commanded, tilting her face up, her mouth open. “Right there. Don’t be shy.”
His release was a hot, sudden stripe across her collarbone, then another, splattering across her cheek and the corner of her mouth. The scent, musky and intimate, filled her nostrils. At the exact same moment, the man buried inside her cunt drove deep and held, a muffled cry against her shoulder blade as he emptied himself within her.
The sensations merged into one overwhelming tide. The warm spill on her skin, the hot flood inside her, the profound fullness. A raw, hungry sound tore from Jane’s throat. She turned her head, chasing the spend on her face with her tongue, lapping at Liam’s tip as he softened, trying to taste every drop.
Her body clenched and fluttered around the cock still pulsing inside her, milking it, her own pleasure a distant, secondary thunder under the primary storm of their culmination. She swallowed what she could, the salt-bitter taste a perfect anchor in the spinning room.
The man behind her slipped out, collapsing to the side. Liam stumbled back, breathing hard. Jane remained on her knees, painted and filled and utterly triumphant. She looked at Kieran, whose grip on his own cock was white-knuckled.
“Your turn,” she panted, a messy, glorious smile on her face. “But be a love and fetch the lube from the bedside drawer first. We’re not savages.”
Kieran fumbled with the drawer, his movements rushed, and tossed a small black bottle onto the silk. Jane caught it, the plastic cool in her palm. She poured a generous pool of clear gel into her hand, the slick sound obscene in the quiet room.
“Come here,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush. She shifted her weight, presenting herself to him, the earlier mess glistening. “And don’t be gentle. I’ve been waiting for this all night.”
His hands settled on her hips, thumbs digging into the soft flesh above her stockings. She guided him, not to her entrance, but lower, her slick fingers working against him, then against herself, preparing the tight, clenching ring of muscle. He groaned, a raw, shaky sound, and pushed the thick head of himself forward.
The initial pressure was a brilliant, shocking stretch that stole her breath. She pushed back, taking him, a low, guttural moan ripped from her chest as he seated himself fully inside her. “Fuck. Yes. That’s it,” she gasped, the words cracking.
He began to move, a deep, rolling rhythm that was entirely new, a profound invasion that lit up every nerve. Jane braced herself on her elbows, her head hanging, dark hair curtaining her face. She forced her eyes open, her gaze swimming across the rumpled bed.
Liam was leaning against the headboard, watching, his hand already moving slowly on his own cock, which was thickening again with keen interest. The sight sent a fresh jolt through her. “Look at you,” she managed, her voice strained with Kieran’s pace. “Getting hard again for me. You’re fucking amazing.”
The shy one was sitting on the edge of the bed, just staring, his own erection already full and rigid once more. “And you,” Jane panted, a wild laugh bubbling up. “Back so soon? You’re insatiable. I love it.”
Kieran drove into her, his grip tightening, and she cried out, the pleasure-pain sharp and perfect. “God, Kieran, your cock is so thick,” she slurred, her mind fragmenting into pure sensation and praise. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. All of you.”
The ginger one had moved closer, drawn in, and he was hard again too, stroking himself slowly as he watched Kieran claim her. The party was reborn, a second wave of hunger rising in the fire-lit room.
“I can’t believe my luck,” Jane moaned, pushing back hard against Kieran’s thrusts. “I went out for a quiet drink and found the loveliest, most generous people. You all won the prize, but I got the best prize of all.” She turned her head, seeking the shy one’s eyes. “I need a cock in my mouth. Right now. Please. I’m so empty up here.”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. He shuffled forward on his knees, his length brushing her lips. She took him in hungrily, a deep, sucking glide that made him shout. Now she was full at both ends, a nexus of grasping, desperate pleasure.
The sounds she made were muffled, obscene, a continuous litany of gratitude and filth. “This is it,” she gagged around the fullness in her mouth, then pulled off with a wet gasp. “This is exactly what I wanted. I want all your cocks in me, on me, everywhere. Don’t stop. However you want me.”
Kieran’s pace became punishing, his hips slapping against her ass. She took the shy one deep again, her throat working, tears of overwhelming sensation pricking her eyes. She was a vessel, overflowing, and every part of her sang with a brutal, beautiful truth.
“I’m not letting any of you go until morning,” she vowed, the words a hot promise against wet skin.
“I’m not letting any of you go until morning,” she vowed, the words a hot promise against wet skin.
Kieran’s thrusts in her ass grew ragged, his breathing a harsh bellows in her ear. “Gonna come,” he grunted, the words stripped bare.
“Do it,” Jane urged, pushing back against him, taking him deeper. “Fill me up.”
He shuddered, a guttural cry tearing loose as he pulsed inside her, the hot, intimate flood a shocking contrast to the cooler air on her skin. He held there, locked, for three endless seconds before sliding out, spent. At the exact same moment, the shy one in her mouth tensed, his fingers tangling in her hair.
“Jane—I’m—”
She hummed her consent, a vibration around him, and swallowed the salty burst as he climaxed down her throat. She drank him in, greedy and thorough, until he softened and slipped from her lips.
She collapsed forward onto her forearms, breathing hard, feeling their releases both inside and on her. The room swam for a second, all panting and firelight. Then she pushed herself up, turning to sit on the edge of the bed, facing the five of them. Her makeup was ruined, her hair a wild cascade, her body a map of their attention.
“Right,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes were bright, fierce. “Listen. I want the next two to give me the greatest pleasure I have ever wanted.” She looked from face to face, her expression dead serious. “I have always dreamed of it. Being fucked in the ass and cunt at the same time. While sucking another man’s balls. While two other men fondle my tits.”
A stunned, electric silence filled the room. They just stared, as if processing a complex equation.
“And now,” Jane continued, a slow, triumphant smile breaking across her face. She spread her hands, indicating the room, them, her own wrecked, perfect body. “Now I am such a lucky lady because I can do it.” She let the smile fade, her gaze turning challenging. “So. Can you five men make me the happiest lady in the world?”
It was Liam who moved first, a low chuckle escaping him. “Fucking hell. Yes. Obviously.”
“How do you want us?” Kieran asked, his voice rough, already reaching for the lube again.
“You,” Jane pointed to the ginger one, then to the shy one. “And you. You’re the two. You get the main event.” She beckoned the ginger one closer. “You take my cunt. It’s nice and wet for you.” She then looked at the shy one. “And you, my beautiful, relentless friend, you get my ass. Kieran’s warmed it up nicely for you.”
She lay back in the center of the bed, a queen arranging her court. She pointed to Liam. “You. Come here, above me. I want your balls in my mouth.” Finally, she gestured to Kieran and the one whose name she never caught. “You two. My tits. Don’t just hold them. Worship them.”
There was a frantic, beautiful scramble of limbs as they moved into position. The ginger one settled between her legs, his thick cock nudging at her entrance, already slick from her and the previous spend. The shy one, behind him, his hands trembling slightly, spread her wider.
“Slow,” Jane instructed, her heart hammering against her ribs. She looked up at Liam, who was kneeling astride her chest, his heavy sac hanging near her lips. She lifted her head and took one orb gently into her mouth, suckling, her tongue flat against the skin.
At the same moment, both men pressed forward. The dual pressure was unimaginable. A stretching, burning fullness from behind, a deep, familiar claiming from the front. They moved in an unsteady, halting rhythm, trying to sync. Jane’s eyes flew open wide, a choked, guttural sound trapped in her throat around Liam’s flesh.
Then Kieran’s hands were on her right breast, kneading, his thumb rubbing tight circles on her nipple. The other man’s palms cupped her left, his fingers pinching and pulling. The sensations overlapped, a crashing wave of too much that somehow, miraculously, became everything.
“Oh god,” she whimpered, releasing Liam’s balls for a gasping breath. “Yes. That’s it. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
The men found their rhythm, a deep, counter-pointed cadence that lifted her hips off the bed. Out. Fill. Stretch. The stretch was everything, a glorious, consuming ache. She turned her head, nuzzling into Liam’s scrotum, taking his other testicle into the heat of her mouth, laving it with her tongue.
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, smudging what was left of her mascara. It was a sensory overload so complete it bordered on agony, a pinnacle she’d only ever fantasized about in the quiet dark of her own bedroom. Now it was real. The weight of the man above her, the salty taste of his skin, the bruising grip on her breasts, the relentless, filling drive of two separate cocks moving inside her.
“I’m gonna—” the ginger one grunted, his pace faltering.
“Not yet!” Jane commanded, her voice a shattered thing. “Wait for him. Wait for me. Together.”
She was close, a tight coil of lightning in her belly, sparking from every point of contact. The shy one behind her moaned, his fingers digging into her hips. She felt his control fraying, the thrilling wobble in his thrusts.
“Now,” she begged, the word a prayer. “Please. Now.”
It happened almost in unison. The ginger one slammed home, a ragged shout tearing from him as he emptied himself in her cunt. The shy one followed, a hot, pulsing flood in her ass that triggered her own climax.
It detonated through her, a silent, white-out shock that arched her spine clean off the mattress. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream against Liam’s thigh, her body clamping and fluttering around them, milking them, as pleasure, raw and obliterating, wiped her mind clean.
They collapsed around her, a heap of sweating, trembling limbs. Jane floated, untethered, aware only of the profound, dripping fullness and the slowing gallop of her heart. The fire crackled. Someone’s breath sobbed in the quiet.
She finally opened her eyes, looking at the ceiling where shadows from the flames danced. A slow, dazed smile touched her ruined lips. “Happy,” she whispered, to no one and everyone. “So happy.”
“So happy.”
The word hung in the air, soft and final, like the last ember glowing in the grate. For a long moment, the only sounds were the shifting of bodies on slick silk and the ragged symphony of their breathing coming down. Jane lay in the center of it all, a starfish stranded on a shore of trembling limbs and damp skin.
She slowly turned her head on the pillow, her gaze traveling over the sprawled forms of the five men. They were magnificent in their exhaustion, beaded with sweat, their bodies gleaming in the low light. Her eyes lingered lower, moving from one to the next, tracing the beautiful, spent curves of their soft cocks against their thighs.
A deep, shuddering sigh of pure contentment escaped her. “Look at you all,” she whispered, her voice cracked from use but brimming with warmth. “Just look.”
She pushed herself up onto her elbows, wincing slightly at the delicious, raw ache between her legs. The movement caused a slow, warm trickle to escape her, a reminder of the sheer volume they’d given her. She reached down, her fingers sliding through the wet mess at the junction of her thighs.
It was a sloppy, glorious slush of cool and warm—their combined releases mingled with her own slick arousal, leaking from both her well-used holes. She brought her glistening fingers to her face, not breaking eye contact with Liam, who watched her through heavy-lidded eyes.
She inhaled deeply, the musky, intimate scent filling her head, a perfume more compelling than any from a bottle. Then she slowly, deliberately, drew her fingers into her mouth, her tongue cleaning every digit with languid appreciation. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said, the words muffled then clear. “That was… fucking transcendent. You have no idea what you’ve given me.”
She scooped another handful from her own body, this time from her ass, and repeated the ritual: the deep smell, the thorough, hungry lick. Her eyes rolled back slightly at the taste, a complex, salty tang that was purely them, purely this night. “I want to bottle this feeling. I want to live in it.”
But as her gaze swept over them again, she saw the reality. Their chests rose and fell with deep, recovery breaths. Their hands lay still. The shy one was already half-asleep. Kieran gave her a tired, sated smile, but made no move. They were spent, truly spent, and the silent bar downstairs felt a lifetime away.
“I want more,” Jane admitted, her voice a husky confession. She continued stroking herself, spreading the mess, her touch idle and possessive. “I’m so greedy. I look at you, and I just… I want it all again.” She let out a frustrated, loving laugh. “But you lot look completely fucked. In the best way.”
Liam chuckled weakly, patting his own thigh. “Tapped out, love. You’ve properly drained us. In every sense.”
“I can help with that,” Jane said, a new, mischievous energy cutting through her post-coital haze. She leaned over the edge of the bed, her breasts swinging heavily, and fumbled in the small sequined clutch she’d discarded on the floor hours before. Her hand emerged clutching a small, single blue pill.
She held it up, pinched between her thumb and forefinger. “Christmas miracle,” she said, her smile turning cunning. “A little helper. For all of us.”
She placed the pill on the bedside table, next to the empty champagne flute, and used its base to crush it into a fine powder. “We’ll share,” she announced, her tone leaving no room for debate. She divided the powder into five faint lines with the edge of her credit card. “Just a little taste. Enough for you young, fit lads to rally. For another couple of goes each, I’d reckon.”
There was a beat of hesitation, a silent exchange of glances among the men. Then Kieran shrugged, a slow grin spreading. “Why the fuck not. It’s Christmas.” He leaned over first, snorting one line with a quick sniff.
The others followed, one by one, a brief, clinical interruption in the animal heat of the room. Jane watched them, stroking her own damp stomach, her eyes bright with anticipation.
The change wasn’t instant, but it was profound. It began with a subtle shift in their breathing, a deepening of color in their faces. Then, as if pulled by invisible strings, their cocks began to stir. Not just the sleepy twitch of recovery, but a steady, insistent reawakening.
They thickened, lengthened, rising against their bellies with a renewed, formidable rigidity. The veins became more pronounced, the heads darker and full. Within minutes, they were all fully, spectacularly erect again, looking bigger, harder, and more impossibly gorgeous than they had even at the start.
Jane’s mouth watered. She lay back, opening her arms and her legs, a feast presented on rumpled silk. “There you are,” she breathed, her heart hammering anew. “Look at you. Magnificent.”
She swept a hand over her own body, smearing through the mixed fluids shining on her skin. “The floor is yours. The rules are gone. Do what you want with me. Take me however you want. I’m all yours.”
Her invitation hung in the air, a charged and silent challenge. Liam was the first to move, his eyes locked on hers, his newly hardened cock bouncing as he crawled toward her.