Chapter 16: Meat Stretchers
The cold metal of the speculum was a shocking contrast to the heat blooming inside her. Margaret clenched her eyes shut as the device was carefully withdrawn, the intimate stretch a faint echo of the violation that had preceded it. A fresh trickle of warm semen seeped from her loosened hole onto the vinyl beneath her.
“Beautiful,” Cal murmured, his voice close to her ear. “The retention is perfect. Now, let’s not let that beautiful pussy feel left out.”
Before she could even process his words, two new sets of hands were on her, turning her onto her back. The lights were blinding. She saw their silhouettes first—broader, more heavily muscled than the last set. Their cocks, fully erect now, were obscenely thick, veined and heavy.
One of them, a man with a shaved head and a tattoo coiled around his bicep, knelt between her legs. He spat roughly into his palm, slicking his shaft, then did the same for his companion. “Gonna fill that cunt up, grandma,” he grunted, no malice in his voice, just a statement of fact.
Margaret’s heart hammered against her ribs. Her cunt, which had been clenching around nothing, felt achingly empty compared to the well-used fullness of her ass. She was split open, raw, and yet a desperate, primal need was building again.
The first cockhead pressed against her labia, which felt swollen and sensitive. It was so much wider than anything that had been in her before today. He pushed, and her body resisted, the tight ring of muscle at her entrance straining.
“Fuck, she’s tight,” he growled, using his thumb to pry her folds apart.
“Just fucking push,” the other man said, his voice a low rumble.
The bald man drove his hips forward. Margaret gasped as the thick head forced its way inside, a burning, stretching sensation that was entirely different from the anal penetration. It was deeper, more central, a claiming of her very core. He didn’t stop, burying his entire length in one brutal, seamless thrust until his balls slapped against her ass, which was still slick with another man’s cum.
The feeling of being so completely filled there, in her pussy, was overwhelming. She cried out, a sharp, ragged sound.
Then the second man positioned himself. The pressure at her entrance became immense, impossible. He was trying to fit his cock alongside the first, which was already stretching her to her limit.
“Oh god, no, you can’t,” she whimpered, her hands scrabbling at the vinyl.
“We can, and we fucking will,” the second man said, his tone flat. He applied more pressure, his cockhead fighting for space beside the first shaft. Her flesh protested, a sharp, stinging pain that made her see stars. Then, with a wet, tearing pop, the second head squeezed inside her stretched opening.
The sensation was unbelievable. Her cunt was forced to accommodate two massive, rigid columns. Every inch of her vaginal walls was stretched taut, every nerve ending screaming with a mix of agony and blinding pleasure. She was packed, stuffed, impossibly full.
“Fuck yes! Look at that!” Cal’s voice cut through her haze, narrating for the camera. “Look at those meaty labia stretched like that around two fat dicks! Take it deep, you filthy gilfs!”
Beside her, she heard Marge let out a guttural, approving roar as the same violation was enacted upon her. “Yes! Fuck me! Stretch me out, you bastards!”
The two men inside Margaret began to move. It wasn’t a rhythm so much as a chaotic, powerful churning. Their thrusts were not synchronized; one would pull back as the other drove in, creating a constant, rolling pressure inside her. The friction was intense, a rough, scraping pleasure that built upon itself with every movement. She could feel the individual veins on their cocks, the heat of them, the way her own body was being molded to their shape.
“Your turn, old bitch,” the bald man grunted, pistoning into her. “Come on. Squirt all over our cocks.”
The command, so crude and direct, unlocked something in her. The competing sensations—the deep, burning fullness in her cunt, the tender, used feeling of her ass, the memory of a throat full of cum—coalesced into a tidal wave. Her back arched off the platform, a raw, screaming orgasm tearing through her without permission. Her cunt convulsed wildly around the two invading cocks, milking them, and a hot gush of fluid soaked their pounding shafts and her thighs.
Feeling her climax, the men lost their composure. With twin, guttural roars, they buried themselves to the hilt and erupted. She felt the hot, simultaneous pulses of their release deep inside her, filling the already cramped space, another layer of fluid joining the mess. They pumped into her, again and again, until she felt a hot overflow seep from around the tight seal of their cocks.
They pulled out with a wet, sucking sound. Margaret felt gaping, empty, utterly spent. She lay panting, a river of mixed fluids pooling beneath her. She turned her head and saw Marge in a similar state, a dazed, triumphant smile on her face.
Cal appeared in her line of sight, blocking the lights. He wasn’t looking at her face, but at the ruin between her legs. He smiled, a genuine, pleased smile.
“That’s the money shot,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Perfect.”