Chapter 3: Aired Out
The silence that followed her question was heavy, broken only by Jason’s ragged attempts to catch his breath. Four pairs of eyes burned into Kelly, still kneeling on the plush carpet, her chest gleaming with dried sauce and spit, her mouth swollen and proud.
Christopher moved first.
He stood up from the booth, his movement deliberate. The predatory ease from the bar was gone, replaced by a calm, possessive authority. He walked around the low table and stood before Kelly, looking down at her. With a soft, metallic rasp, he finally unzipped his jeans. He pushed them and his boxer briefs down just enough to free himself.
His cock, thick and flushed, stood rigid against his stomach. He reached down, cradling the back of Kelly’s head with a firm, loving hand. “Open up, baby,” he said, his voice a low rumble.
She did, without hesitation, tilting her head back, her bright blue eyes locked on his. He guided himself past her lips, watching as her mouth stretched to accommodate him. He fed his length into her slowly, savoring the wet, tight heat, letting the others watch as she took him deep, her nose pressing into the dark hair at his base.
He held himself there for a long moment, her throat working around him. Then he withdrew, just as slowly, until only the head rested on her tongue. “Suck my balls, Red. Get them wet for me.”
She obeyed, dipping her head to take one sac then the other into her mouth, coating them with slick saliva, her tongue lavishing attention on the sensitive skin. A low groan escaped him. He fed his cock back into her mouth, setting a deep, rhythmic pace, using his grip on her hair not to force her, but to guide her, to show her the depth he wanted. The wet, gagging sounds of her deepthroating him filled the room.
Over the top of her head, he made eye contact with each of the other men—Isaiah, Ken, Jason—who were all stroking themselves, their hands moving in sync with his thrusts into Kelly’s mouth.
“Alright, listen up,” Christopher said, his voice steady even as his hips pistoned. “We’re all going to fuck her. That’s clearly where this is headed. But we do it right.” He slid out of Kelly’s mouth, letting her gasp for air, a string of spit connecting her lips to his tip. “Ground rules. No biting her unless she asks for it. No pulling her hair unless she begs for it. No slapping her pretty skin unless she’s screaming for it. You treat her with respect. But you fuck her good. You fuck her stupid.”
Kelly moaned, nodding eagerly against his thigh, nuzzling his shaft.
“Where you finish,” Christopher continued, his eyes hardening just a fraction. “Not inside her. You come anywhere on her. Her face, her tits, her stomach, that phenomenal ass. If she wants it in her mouth, if she wants to swallow, that’s her call in the moment. Understood?”
A chorus of grunted affirmations and “fuck yeahs” answered him.
“Good. Now,” he said, looking down at Kelly, brushing her hair from her face. “Who’s first, baby? You pick.”
She turned her head, her gaze sweeping over the three men. It landed on Ken. “Kenny. You’ve been watching long enough. Get over here.”
Ken was on his feet in an instant, his cock jutting out, thicker than Jason’s, a prominent vein running along the underside. He approached, and Kelly got up on her knees, turning to present her back to him. She bent forward, placing her hands on the carpet, arching her spine until her ass was high in the air, the cheeks round and firm beneath her tiny shorts. “These are in the way,” she muttered, and with a quick shimmy, she pushed the denim down her legs and kicked them aside. She was bare underneath.
Ken dropped to his knees behind her. He didn’t need to guide himself; he simply nudged the broad head of his cock against her slit, which was already glistening and visibly swollen. With one hard, driving thrust, he buried himself inside her to the hilt.
Kelly’s whole body jerked, a sharp, choked cry bursting from her lips. “Fuck! Oh god, you’re so thick!” Her inner muscles clenched around him, pulsing in shock and intense pleasure.
Ken froze, his hands gripping her hips, his head thrown back. “Christ, Kelly… you’re so fucking tight.” He began to move, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in, setting a brutal, pounding pace that shook her entire frame. The slap of his pelvis against her ass was a sharp, rhythmic counterpoint to their ragged breaths.
Isaiah moved next. He came around to her front, kneeling before her. Kelly, her face contorted with pleasure, saw him and immediately opened her mouth. Isaiah fed her his length, and she began to suck him greedily, bobbing her head in time with Ken’s thrusts from behind.
The lounge became a symphony of grunts, wet slaps, and sucking sounds. Christopher and Jason watched, stroking themselves, drinking in the sight. Kelly was a vision of pure, wanton ecstasy—impaled on Ken’s cock from behind, choking on Isaiah’s in front, her body used and worshipped simultaneously.
Ken’s pace grew frantic, his balls slapping against her clit with every drive. “I’m close… fuck, Kelly, where do you want it?”
She pulled off Isaiah’s cock with a gasp, strings of saliva bridging her lips to his tip. “My face! Cover my face, Kenny!”
With a guttural roar, Ken pulled out. He fisted his cock, and thick, white ropes of cum shot across Kelly’s cheek, her nose, her chin, and her forehead. She kept her eyes open, blinking through the streaks, her tongue darting out to catch a drop that landed on her lips.
Ken collapsed back onto the floor, spent.
Isaiah was immediately on the move. He pulled Kelly up from her hands and knees, turning her to face him. He laid her back on the carpet, pushing her legs up and apart. He drove into her in one smooth stroke, filling the space Ken had vacated. Kelly wrapped her powerful legs around his waist, locking her ankles, pulling him deeper.
“Fuck me, Isaiah,” she panted, her cum-streaked face fierce with need. “Fuck me harder!”
He obliged, his thrusts becoming punishing, his body slamming into hers. Jason, unable to wait any longer, knelt by Kelly’s head. She turned and took him into her mouth without being asked, sucking him back to full hardness, her tongue swirling around his head.
Christopher watched, a proud, fevered grin on his face. He saw the door to the lounge crack open.
Aidan stood frozen in the doorway, a tray of fresh drinks in his hands, his jaw slack, his eyes wide as dinner plates. He was staring at the scene: Kelly being violently fucked by Isaiah, her mouth stretched around Jason’s cock, her body a canvas of sweat and drying semen.
Christopher caught his eye and raised a finger. “Aidan. You can come in.”
The young server hesitated, his face pale.
“It’s okay,” Christopher said, his tone inviting, conspiratorial. “You brought us in here. You’re part of the party now. Set the drinks down. In fact…” He nodded toward Kelly. “If you want to stay, you can. Bring us a couple of soft towels from the back. And then… you can play with those magnificent tits you’ve been eyeing all night. And if you’re good, she’ll suck your dick, too.”
Aidan’s paralysis broke. He scurried in, set the clinking tray hastily on a side table, and fled back out the door, leaving it ajar.
Isaiah was losing his rhythm, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Kelly… I’m gonna…”
“Do it!” she cried, releasing Jason’s cock for a moment. “My tits! Cover them!”
Isaiah pulled out, his cock jerking in his hand. He sprayed his release over her sauced, heaving breasts, painting the smooth skin and hard nipples with fresh, white streaks.
Before Kelly could catch her breath, Jason was moving. He rolled her onto her stomach. He mounted her from behind, entering her with a grateful, deep groan. This angle was different, deeper, and Kelly’s cries took on a new, shattered pitch. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, and fucked her with a steady, relentless power, his gaze fixed on the mesmerizing bounce of her ass.
The door opened again. Aidan returned, clutching four fluffy white towels. He stood just inside the room, his eyes glued to Jason’s cock plunging in and out of Kelly’s slick, stretched pussy. His own hand crept down to the front of his black work pants, where a substantial bulge was evident. He rubbed himself absently through the fabric.
Christopher took the towels from him with a nod. “Good man.” He tossed one to Ken, who was still recovering. He kept one for himself, draping it over his shoulder.
He then looked at Aidan and pointed to the floor near Kelly’s head. “Sit. Touch them. They’re even better in your hands.”
Aidan, moving as if in a dream, sank to his knees. He reached out with trembling hands and cupped Kelly’s breasts, his touch tentative at first, then firmer. He kneaded the soft, heavy flesh, his thumbs rubbing over the cum-slicked nipples. Kelly moaned around a gasp, turning her head to look at him. She opened her mouth in a silent invitation.
Aidan fumbled with his belt and zipper, freeing his cock—long, thin, and achingly hard. He shuffled forward on his knees. Kelly lunged her head forward and took him into her mouth, sucking him down with a desperate, hungry energy.
Aidan threw his head back, a strangled sound escaping his throat. “Oh my god…”
The room was a tangle of limbs and heat. Jason fucked Kelly from behind with deep, measured strokes. Aidan face-fucked her mouth, his hands locked on her breasts, pinching and pulling at her nipples. Christopher and Isaiah watched, stroking themselves, waiting their turn again.
Christopher’s eyes never left Kelly’s face. He saw the tears of overwhelming sensation in the corners of her eyes, the blissed-out slackness of her jaw around Aidan’s cock, the utter surrender and joy in every line of her body. This was what she wanted. What they all wanted. To be thoroughly used, and in that use, profoundly loved.
Jason’s breathing hitched. “Red… I’m there…”
“Inside,” she managed to gurgle around Aidan’s shaft, releasing him for a second. “Just this once. Fill me up, Jay. I want to feel it.”
With a grateful cry, Jason slammed into her one final time, his body locking as he emptied himself deep inside her trembling channel. He stayed there, buried, panting against her back.
As he slowly pulled out, a trickle of his release seeped out onto her inner thigh. Christopher was there immediately with a towel, cleaning her gently. He helped her roll onto her back. Aidan, desperate and inexperienced, was thrusting mindlessly toward her mouth.
Christopher put a hand on his shoulder, stilling him. “Easy, kid. She needs a breath.” He looked at Kelly, who was staring up, dazed and radiant. “Who’s next, beautiful? Me?”
She nodded, reaching for him. “You. I need you inside me. Now.”
Christopher positioned himself between her splayed legs. He leaned down, kissing her deeply, tasting the salt and sex and spice on her lips. Then he notched his cockhead at her well-fucked, dripping entrance and pushed in, a long, slow, claiming stroke that made her sob with relief. He began to move, a different rhythm than the others—deep, possessive, intimate—his eyes holding hers as he made love to her in the midst of the devouring frenzy.
Aidan, whimpering, crawled forward again, offering his cock to her lips. She took him back, suckling him gently as Christopher moved within her. Ken and Isaiah, recovered now, moved in closer, their hands roaming over her body, stroking her skin, pinching her nipples, whispering filthy praise into her ears.
Christopher felt his climax building, a tight coil in his gut. “Where, baby?” he gritted out, his thrusts becoming urgent.
“My mouth,” she begged, releasing Aidan. “I want to taste you. I want to swallow you.”
He pulled out of her soaked pussy, kneeling up. He guided his slick cock to her lips. She took him in, sucking and licking him clean of her own juices, her tongue swirling over his head. It took only three pulls before he was coming, jets of salty cum hitting the back of her throat. She swallowed convulsively, milking him with her lips and tongue until he was soft.
She fell back onto the carpet, a spent, beautiful ruin, surrounded by the men. They cleaned her with the soft towels, Aidan tending to her breasts with a reverence that bordered on worship. They passed a bottle of water, each taking a sip, pouring some over Kelly’s heated skin.
For a long while, no one spoke. The only sound was their slowing breath and the distant, forgotten game on the silent screen.
Kelly finally stirred, a slow, sated smile spreading across her sticky face. She looked at Christopher, then at each of the others. “So,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and raw. “What’s the wager for the fifth set?”