Chapter 74: Trial 14 - MVP
The celebration in the main lodge had been suffocating. The roar of the crowd, the cloying sweetness of spiked punch, the clatter of the MVP trophy being passed around—it all pressed against Emilia’s skull like a vice. She’d smiled, of course. Her deceptive sociability was a well-oized machine. She’d accepted the accolades for her strategic masterstroke in Trial 14, her dark eyes capturing the light and the admiration of every man in the room, especially Arman’s hungry gaze. But inside, a restless, defiant energy simmered. The victory felt hollow, a chess move in a game where everyone was both player and pawn.
“I need air that doesn’t smell like ego and cheap beer,” she announced, her voice cutting through Diana and Madalina’s conversation about the quality of the champagne.
Diana, still smarting from her humiliating loss to Elena Chiriac at the pool, looked up with grateful surprise. Any escape was welcome. “God, yes. This party is dead.”
Madalina, the model, adjusted the strap of her designer dress with a sensual sigh. “It’s all cameras and fake smiles in here. The beach at night is much more… photogenic. In a natural way.”
They slipped out a side door, the raucous noise fading into a blanket of humid, salt-tinged silence. The path to the beach was a tunnel of whispering palms, the ground soft under their sandals. The moon, a heavy silver coin, painted a wavering road on the black water.
Without a word, a shared understanding passed between them. The defiance in Emilia took a practical, precious form. “I’m not swimming in this,” she said, her fingers working at the clasp of her dress. The fabric, expensive and delicate, pooled at her feet. She stood naked in the moonlight, her tanned skin flawless, her small breasts high and proud, the curve of her fit round ass a perfect shadow. She was a piece of art claiming its space, her initial rudeness a barrier against the world.
Inspired, Diana and Madalina followed suit. Diana’s undressing was quicker, a shedding of the night’s frustrations. Her medium breasts, fit round beautiful ass, and narrow waist were revealed with a sigh of relief. Madalina’s disrobing was a performance of feline grace, each movement calculated yet fluid, her average-sized breasts and fit big round ass catching the moonlight like polished stone. She looked royal, a queen divesting herself of ceremonial garb.
The water, when they waded in, was a shock of cool silk against their heated skin. They gasped, then laughed, the genuine sound swallowed by the vast, rhythmic sigh of the ocean. They swam out past the gentle breakers, floating on their backs, staring at the sprawl of stars. For a few minutes, they were just three women, weightless and anonymous in the dark sea.
“Do you think they’re all still talking about us?” Madalina asked, her voice dreamy.
“They’re always talking,” Emilia replied, her precious defiance softening into a wry honesty. “The trick is to control what they’re saying.”
Diana remained quiet, floating, her surprise at the simple pleasure of the water displacing her earlier bitterness.
They didn’t hear the approach over the waves. The first indication was a low, male voice, startlingly close.
“The moonlight becomes you. All of you.”
They startled, flipping upright to tread water. Three figures, darker patches against the dark water, were only a few meters away. As they drifted closer, details emerged. Silhouettes of muscular shoulders, heads. And then, as a wave lowered, the unmistakable glimpse of male anatomy swinging loose. They were naked.
Emilia’s precious defensiveness snapped back into place, sharp and rude. “Enjoy the show? It’s private.”
A low chuckle. It was Andre, the massive, stoic staff member. At 195 cm, even chest-deep he was imposing. “The ocean isn’t private, domnișoară,” he said, his voice a calm, deep rumble. “We were here first. Bathing. Like you.”
The other two men emerged more clearly. Silviu, the gym-addict staffer, his physique a monument to weights, his overly confident grin visible even in the gloom. And Theo, Antonia’s ex, his "I-know-it-all" arrogance emanating from him in waves. All three were fully, casually nude.
“We’re just leaving,” Diana said, her voice unsure, surprised by the encounter.
“Why?” Theo challenged, swimming a lazy circle around them. His gaze was aggressive, dominating. “Water’s fine. Unless you’re scared.”
“We’re not scared,” Madalina retorted, her royal-like tone holding firm, though her feline grace in the water seemed more deliberate, a display for an unexpected audience.
“Good,” Andre said, his stoic presence somehow the most threatening. He moved closer, the water rippling around his colossal chest. He was directly in front of Emilia. “MVP. Congratulations. That was a clever trick with the flags.”
He was close enough that his body heat radiated through the cool water. Emilia’s great emotional intelligence scanned the situation—the isolation, the three powerful, sex-hungry men, the two companions who were already wavering. A direct insult could be dangerous. A retreat, a show of weakness, could be worse. Her manipulation skills shifted gear, turning from rude defiance to a calculated, precious challenge.
“Thank you. It wasn’t trickery. It was intelligence. Something often overlooked in brute strength.” She let her eyes travel down, then back to his face, a blatant appraisal.
Andre’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his dark eyes. Hunger. “Intelligence is one form of power,” he conceded. “But there are others. More… immediate.”
Silviu had closed in on Diana. “You’re a Beaver, right? Heard your team is falling apart.” His hand, under the water, brushed against her hip.
Diana flinched, but didn’t pull away. The surprise at his touch mingled with a sudden, aching need for validation, for a distraction from her failures. “We’re… regrouping,” she murmured, her defiance from the lodge utterly gone.
“I could help you regroup,” Silviu whispered, his overly confident hand now fully gripping her ass, kneading the firm, round flesh. Diana gasped, but her body arched into the touch, surrendering to the inevitability of it.
Theo had targeted Madalina. “Model. You’re used to being looked at. Admired. What about being used?” His philosophy was crude, direct.
Madalina’s royal demeanor stiffened. “I am not a thing to be used.”
“Everything’s a thing,” Theo shot back, his hand snaking out to cup her breast, his thumb rough on her nipple. “Pretty things, strong things, smart things. They all have a purpose.” His other hand found her ass, pulling her through the water against him. She resisted for a second, her feline grace turning rigid, then melted with a shuddering exhale, the fight leaving her. The promise of sensation, of being the center of a different kind of attention, was too potent.
The orgy did not erupt; it seeped into being, like the tide claiming the shore.
Andre, reading Emilia’s precarious balance between defiance and submission, made his move. “Intelligence deserves a reward.” Before she could issue another retort, his large hands were on her waist, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. He carried her, the water falling away from their bodies, towards the shallows where the waves lapped gently at the wet sand. He laid her down on the damp, cool border between sea and land, his massive frame hovering over her. The moonlight painted his ebony skin with liquid silver, the defined muscles of his chest and arms like sculpted iron. His cock, resting against his thigh, was a thick, intimidating length, well over 30cm, a testament to his imposing nature.
Emilia’s precious act shattered. “Wait—” she began, but the word was cut off as his mouth crashed down on hers. It wasn’t a kiss; it was a claiming. His tongue forced its way past her lips, rough and demanding. She pushed against his shoulders, a muffled sound of protest in her throat. He ignored it, one hand pinning both of her wrists above her head in an effortless show of strength. The other hand groped between her legs, finding her slit. He shoved two thick fingers inside her without ceremony.
She cried out, the sound swallowed by the ocean. She was dry, tight with tension and fear. His fingers worked ruthlessly, a brutal, efficient preparation. “You talk too much,” he grunted against her neck, biting the tender skin there. “Now you’ll scream.”
A few meters away, Silviu had Diana bent over in the knee-deep water, her hands braced on the sandy bottom. He spat on his hand, slicked his average-sized dick, and without any further preamble, drove himself into her from behind. Diana’s surprised yelp turned into a long, groaning wail as he filled her, his muscular body driving into her fit round beautiful ass with punishing, rhythmic strokes. “That’s it, take it, you desperate little fame-whore,” he grunted, his overly confident monologue continuing with each thrust. “This is what you really wanted at that party, wasn’t it? To get fucking used.”
Diana, her face half-submerged with each forward push, could only sob in agreement, her body rocking under his, surrendering completely to the raw, degrading rhythm.
Theo had Madalina on her back in the surf, the waves washing over her legs. He was between her thighs, but he wasn’t interested in her pussy yet. “Open your mouth, princess,” he commanded, slapping his average-sized cock against her cheek. Madalina, her royal facade drowned, obeyed, her lips parting. He fed his cock into her mouth, gripping her long brown hair to control the pace. “Suck. Like you mean it. Like your expensive life depends on it.” She gagged as he hit the back of her throat, but he held her there, fucking her face with short, aggressive jerks of his hips, his dominating aggression leaving no room for grace.
Back on the sand, Andre had decided Emilia was ready. He positioned the monstrous head of his cock at her entrance. Even wet from the sea and her forced arousal, the stretch was unimaginable. Emilia’s defiant eyes went wide with genuine shock. “No, it’s too—ah! God!” Her scream was ripped from her as he pressed forward, an inexorable, tearing invasion. He didn’t stop, didn’t pause. He sheathed himself inside her to the hilt in one relentless, brutal push, his pelvis grinding against hers.
She felt split open, impaled. The pain was bright and blinding, but underneath it, a shocking, unwanted spark of intense sensation ignited. He began to move, a slow, deep, devastating withdrawal and thrust. Each stroke dragged against every sensitive nerve inside her. Her struggles ceased. Her body, traitorously, began to adapt, to clench around the enormous intrusion. Her precious manipulation, her cleverness, meant nothing here. She was just a hole being fucked by a giant. A broken, submissive moan escaped her lips.
“See?” Andre growled, his stoic mask finally cracking to reveal raw, sex-hungry fervor. “Other forms of power. You feel this? This is my MVP.” He punctuated the word with a slam that drove the air from her lungs.
The scene became a triptych of raw consumption.
Silviu, pounding into Diana’s surrendered form, pulled out suddenly. “Turn over. I want those tits.” She complied, dazed, lying back in the shallow water. He mounted her, plunging back inside her soaking cunt, his hands roughly mauling her medium breasts. He leaned down and bit a nipple, making her shriek. “You’re nothing,” he snarled. “Just a set of holes for staff cock. Remember that.” His pace became frenzied, the water splashing around them like a frenetic beat.
Theo, tired of Madalina’s mouth, flipped her onto her stomach in the sand. He mounted her from behind, but he didn’t enter her pussy. He spat on his hand again, rubbed it over her asshole. “This one’s virgin territory for a princess, I bet.” He pressed the head of his cock against her tight rosebud. Madalina whimpered, her face in the sand. “Please…”
“Please, what?” he demanded, pushing just the tip inside, making her cry out in sharp pain.
“Please… fuck me,” she begged, her royal pretense gone, reduced to a base, desperate need.
“That’s what I thought.” He shoved forward, burying his average length in her ass in one brutal thrust. Madalina screamed, her body seizing, but he held her hips and began a ruthless, pounding rhythm, taking her anal virginity with aggressive, dominating force.
Andre, sensing Emilia’s submissive threshold had been crossed, changed tactics. He pulled out of her sore, stretched pussy, flipped her onto her hands and knees. He ran the head of his slick, massive cock over her ass cheeks. “Your other hole. Now.”
Emilia, delirious, overwhelmed, simply nodded, her forehead resting on the sand. This was her reality now. She was for his use. He positioned himself and pushed. This was even tighter, a sharper, more burning pain. She screamed again, a hoarse, ragged sound, as he breached her, slowly filling her rectum with his impossible girth. Once fully seated, he began a relentless, deep fucking, his balls slapping against her clit with each drive. The dual sensation of agonizing fullness and indirect, brutal stimulation sent her careening towards a climax she didn’t want but couldn’t deny. Her body convulsed around his invading shaft, a shockwave of shameful, submissive pleasure.
The men, sex-hungry and feeding off each other’s energy, began to switch, to share.
Theo pulled out of Madalina’s ravaged ass and staggered over to Diana, shoving Silviu aside. “My turn in this cunt,” he declared, and plunged into Diana’s well-used pussy. Silviu, annoyed but seeing a new opportunity, went to Emilia. He shoved his cock, slick with seawater and Diana’s juices, into Emilia’s mouth as Andre continued to fuck her ass from behind. She choked, tears streaming down her face, as she was penetrated at both ends.
Silviu then traded with Andre, taking his place in Emilia’s ass, his slightly smaller girth a minor relief that felt like a new violation. Andre, his monumental dick glistening and hard, turned his attention to Madalina. He pulled her up, bent her over a beached piece of driftwood, and entered her pussy from behind. Her scream was muffled by the wood. The stretch was catastrophic for her, and she came almost instantly, a violent, sobbing orgasm that made her legs buckle.
It went on for an eternity under the moon. The three women were passed around, used in every orifice, their bodies becoming communal property for the staff’s hungry release. Diana was fucked doggy-style by Silviu while sucking off Theo. Madalina was bent over a rock, taking Andre in her ass while she reached back to desperately stroke Silviu as he waited his turn. Emilia was on her back, legs pinned apart by Theo, as Andre fed his cock into her mouth, fucking her throat until she gagged and vomited saltwater, only for him to continue.
The climaxes, when they came for the men, were fierce and marking.
Theo was the first. He pulled out of Emilia’s bruised pussy, jerked himself roughly, and spurted thick, hot come across her face, painting her delicate features with streaks of white. “Wear that, MVP.”
Silviu came next, buried in Madalina’s ass. He roared, pumping his seed deep into her bowels, his overly confident grip leaving bruises on her hips.
Andre, the stoic giant, saved his for last. He pulled Madalina from Silviu’s grasp and laid her on the sand. He mounted her, driving into her devastated, overflowing pussy one final time. His control broke; his thrusts became animalistic, pounding her into the sand. With a guttural groan that seemed to shake the very air, he erupted. His orgasm seemed endless, filling her, claiming her utterly. He collapsed on top of her for a moment, a dead weight, before rolling off.
Silence descended, broken only by the relentless shush of the waves and the ragged, tearful breathing of the three women.
They lay where they had been discarded, coated in sand, sweat, semen, and seawater. Emilia’s precious defiance was a shattered memory, her body a map of submissive ache. Diana’s surprise had long since evaporated into a numb, used hollow. Madalina’s feline grace was broken, her royal pose reduced to a fetal curl in the wet sand.
The three staff members stood, waded into the water to rinse off casually, as if they’d just completed a workout.
“Not bad,” Theo said, his dominating aggression satisfied.
“Adequate,” Andre replied, his stoicism restored, though a gleam of sated hunger remained.
They walked back up the beach, disappearing into the palm shadows without a backward glance.
The women were left alone with the moon, the stars, and the deep, throbbing knowledge of what they had become, if only for a while: not strategists, not models, not socialites. Just flesh. Used, conquered, and utterly surrendered.
The tide crept in, cool and indifferent, beginning the slow work of washing the physical evidence away.
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In the shower cabin, at night.
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In the shower cabin, at night.
Steam from the main lodge’s bathrooms had seeped into his pores, carrying the sticky residue of sweat, spilled liquor, and performative laughter. Briv needed it gone. The charismatic leader’s grin he’d worn for hours felt etched into his face, a rigid mask. His submissive core, the part he hid beneath intelligent banter and easygoing leadership, ached for simplicity, for a relinquishing of control. The memory of the cabin, of being worshipped by Andra and Andreea, was a warm glow in his mind, but it was a memory of shared delight. Now he just wanted the hammering water and empty silence.
He pushed the wooden door of the standalone shower cabin, a small, rustic structure separate from the main lodge. The humid air inside was still, thick with the ghost of old rainwater and damp wood. He was alone. He slid out of his shorts and t-shirt, letting them fall to the plank floor. He reached for the tap.
The inner door, leading to the actual shower stall, opened before he could turn it.
Light from a single, yellow bulb spilled out, illuminating three figures. Naked. Gleaming with dampness not from the shower, but from their own heat. He froze, his submissive instinct flaring into genuine shock.
Elena EM leaned against the tiled wall, her above-average breasts lifted by her crossed arms, a friendly, flirty smile on her lips that didn’t hide her horny intent. Andra stood beside her, one elegant hand on her hip, her dark green eyes tracing Briv’s naked form with predatory assessment, her big round breasts rising with a slow, deliberate breath. And between them, one foot propped on the wooden bench, was Dariana. Her dark eyes held his, unblinking, a feline predator who’d cornered her chosen prey. Her tanned skin glowed, water droplets catching in the hollow of her narrow waist before disappearing into the shadow of her fit, big round ass.
“Door was unlocked,” Dariana said, her voice a low, flirty purr that vibrated in the tight space. “We were… waiting for the water to heat up.”
“Looks like it’s heated now,” Andra added, her tone elegant, predatory. Her gaze dropped to his cock, which was already beginning to stiffen under the triple-pronged attention.
Briv’s genuine shock tightened his throat. “I… I can come back.” He took a half-step backward, his submissive nature urging retreat from this overwhelming, deliberate ambush.
“Don’t you dare,” Elena EM said, her friendly demeanor turning commanding. She uncrossed her arms, pushing off the wall. “Get in here, Briv. There’s room.” Her horny expression was an open invitation, but the words were an order.
“It’s a communal island,” Dariana added, her dominant gaze locking him in place. She straightened up, taking a slow, swaying step towards the doorway where he stood. “Shared resources. Isn’t that the philosophy?” The memory of her riding Kofi’s enormous cock in the cabin flashed in Briv’s mind, her total control in that moment. That same control was here now, directed at him.
Andra said nothing. She simply watched, a femme fatale enjoying the hunt, knowing the outcome was inevitable.
Briv’s submissive pulse hammered in his ears, louder than the distant waves. The part of him that was tired of leading, of performing, surrendered with a profound, genuine relief. He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible dip of his chin. He stepped over the threshold into the shower stall.
It was profoundly tight. A square of worn tile meant for one, maybe two people at a stretch. His naked body was immediately pressed against naked flesh. His back brushed Andra’s front, her big round breasts flattening against his shoulder blades, her nipples hard points of contact. His side slid against Elena EM’s softer, welcoming heat. And directly before him, so close her small breasts almost touched his chest, was Dariana. The scent of them—clean skin, a hint of perfume, and the sharp, metallic tang of arousal—flooded his senses.
“See?” Elena EM murmured in his ear, her friendly flirty tone now intimate, horny. “Cozy.” Her hand slid around his hip, her fingers trailing through his pubic hair before finding his half-hard cock. She wrapped her fingers around it, giving a slow, knowing stroke. “Oh, he’s getting the idea.”
Dariana watched his face, her predator’s smile widening. She placed her hands on his chest, her touch light but possessive. “We heard about your game. Sounded like you were the prize.” Her thumbs brushed his nipples, making him shiver. “We want a turn.”
Andra’s hands, elegant and deliberate, slid around from behind to cup his chest, her nails lightly scratching down his pectorals to his abdomen. Her pervy mood from the cabin was here, refined into a focused, predatory hunger. “No teams now. Just you. And us.” She ground her hips against his ass, her fit big round ass pressing into him.
Briv was surrounded, enclosed in a prison of warm, willing, dominant flesh. His 20cm dick, now fully hard, strained in Elena EM’s grip. “Fuck,” he breathed, the word a submissive exhale, a surrender.
“That’s the plan,” Dariana said. She leaned in, her mouth hovering a breath from his. “But we drive.” She closed the distance, kissing him. It wasn’t gentle. It was a claiming, her tongue delving into his mouth, dominating the kiss. At the same time, Elena EM’s hand on his cock began a faster, tighter rhythm, her thumb smearing pre-come over the head.
Andra, from behind, bit his shoulder, a sharp, possessive sting. Her hands roamed lower, gripping his ass, pulling him tighter against her. “Let us use you, leader-boy,” she purred against his skin, her elegant voice filthy with intent.
Briv could only moan into Dariana’s mouth, his hands lifting to grip her narrow waist, holding on as the three women orchestrated his pleasure. Elena EM released his cock. “My turn,” she announced, her friendly horniness making it sound like a cheerful offer. She sank to her knees on the wet tiles, her long black hair brushing his thighs.
She didn’t tease. She took the full length of him into her mouth in one smooth, hungry motion, her throat working to accommodate him. The heat and wetness were shocking, impeccable. Briv’s head fell back against Andra’s shoulder, a choked cry escaping him. Dariana broke the kiss to watch, her dominant expression one of approval, her own hand moving between her legs to stroke herself as she observed.
Elena EM bobbed her head with a frantic, enthusiastic rhythm, her friendly enthusiasm translated into obscene, slurping sounds. She pulled off with a gasp. “God, he tastes good. Thick.” She dove back on, taking him deeper, her nose buried in his pubic hair.
“He’s all mine next,” Andra declared, her predatory voice leaving no room for argument. She reached around, her elegant hand displacing Elena EM’s head for a moment, just so she could fist his slick shaft. She pumped him slowly, her pervy gaze meeting Dariana’s over his shoulder. “I want him in my cunt first. I want to feel this stretch me open.”
Dariana nodded, her feline grace shifting into a new position. “Fine. But I get his mouth.” She pushed Briv gently. “On your knees, handsome.”
The submissive command, delivered with flirty dominance, made his legs buckle. He sank to the wet floor, the tiles hard under his knees. Elena EM shuffled back, still stroking him, her horny eyes gleaming. Dariana stood before him, her fit big round ass at his eye level. She placed one foot on the bench beside him, opening herself to him. The neat, glistening folds of her pussy were inches from his face. “Eat,” she commanded, her voice husky. “Make me wet for whatever comes next.”
Briv obeyed with genuine, desperate eagerness. He leaned forward, his tongue finding her clit, lashing it in tight, rapid circles. She tasted clean, musky, intensely feminine. A sharp gasp above him was his reward. Her hands tangled in his short dark hair, pulling him closer, grinding herself against his mouth. “Yes, just like that. Fuck, your tongue…”
While he serviced Dariana, Andra moved behind him. He felt her elegant hands on his hips, guiding him. The head of his cock nudged against her entrance, already slick with her arousal. She didn’t wait. She sank down onto him in one fluid, relentless motion, sheathing him completely inside her. A long, low moan of pure pervy satisfaction poured from her lips. “Oh, yes. That’s the stretch. That’s perfect.”
She began to ride him, her fit big round ass slapping against his thighs with each deep descent. Her internal muscles clenched around him, a rhythmic, milking pressure. Elena EM, not wanting to be left out, knelt beside them, her friendly face alight with horny inspiration. She leaned over and captured one of Andra’s big round breasts in her mouth, sucking and biting the nipple as Andra fucked herself on Briv’s cock.
Briv was in a submissive trance. His mouth was devouring Dariana, bringing her closer to climax with every flick and suck. His cock was buried to the hilt in Andra’s tight, clutching heat, her predatory elegance manifesting as a demanding, perfect rhythm. Sensations bombarded him, stripping away thought, leaving only raw, obedient feeling.
Dariana’s thighs began to tremble. Her grip on his hair became frantic. “I’m gonna come. Right in your mouth. Don’t you dare stop.” Her orgasm hit, a silent, tensing wave that made her whole body shudder. Her pussy pulsed against his tongue, and she let out a sharp, guttural cry that was pure dominant satisfaction. She held his face there, riding out the last pulses on his mouth before finally, slowly, releasing his head.
Panting, she stepped back. “My turn on the main course,” she breathed, her dark eyes flashing. “Switch.”
Andra, with a final, luxurious grind, lifted herself off his cock, which sprang free, slick and straining. “He’s all yours. He’s primed.”
Dariana pushed Briv onto his back on the wet tiles. The water from a leaking tap above dripped onto his chest. She didn’t straddle him. Instead, she turned around, presenting her famous, fit big round ass to him. She looked back over her shoulder, a predator in complete control. “You want this ass, Briv? This dancer’s ass everyone whispers about?” She reached behind, spreading her cheeks, revealing her tight, pink entrance. “It’s not for free. You have to earn it. Fuck my pussy first. Get me ready.”
It was a challenge, a test of his submissive willingness. Briv, his genuine desire burning white-hot, scrambled to his knees behind her. He guided his cock to her other hole, her soaked, swollen pussy. He pushed inside, the heat overwhelming. She was tighter than Andra, a different, velvety grip. He began to thrust, his hands gripping her narrow waist for leverage.
“Harder,” Dariana demanded, pushing back against him. “Don’t fucking gentle with me. I saw you with them. Now give it to me.” Her flirty dominance was a goad, a spur.
He obeyed, slamming into her with a force that made her cry out, a sound of pure pleasure-pain. The slap of skin echoed in the tiled stall. Elena EM and Andra watched, their hands on each other, kissing and fondling as they observed the spectacle, their own horny and predatory moods fed by the scene.
After a dozen brutal, bottoming-out thrusts, Dariana yelled, “Now! The other one! Do it!”
Briv pulled out, glistening wet. He positioned himself at her asshole, pressing the broad head against the tight ring of muscle. He looked to her face for permission. She nodded, her expression fierce. “Take it. Stretch me open.”
He pushed. The resistance was profound, a burning, tight grip that made him groan. She gasped, her body stiffening, but she pushed back, forcing herself onto him. Slowly, impossibly, he sank into the incredible, clenching heat of her ass. Once fully seated, they both froze for a second, panting.
“Move,” she whispered, the command barely audible over the dripping water.
He began to fuck her ass, a slower, more intense rhythm than before. Each thrust was a journey into impossible tightness, a submissive act of giving her exactly what she demanded, no matter how intense. Her moans were continuous now, a stream of filthy encouragement. “Yes, fuck, that’s it, ruin my ass, you perfect submissive fuck…”
Her words undid him. The combination of the physical sensation and the psychological surrender pushed him to the edge. “I’m… I can’t…”
“You come when we say,” Andra’s elegant voice cut in. She had moved closer. She knelt beside Dariana’s head. “Not yet. You have another hole to fill first.” She looked at Elena EM. “Your turn, honey. Get over here.”
Elena EM, her friendly horniness at a fever pitch, scrambled into position on her hands and knees in front of Briv, presenting her fit big round ass, her own wet pussy exposed below. “Here, Briv. I want it too. Give it to me.”
Dariana, still impaled on his cock from behind, reached back and slapped his ass. “Switch. Now. Don’t make her wait.”
With a Herculean effort, Briv pulled out of Dariana’s gripping ass. He was dizzy with sensation, his cock a throbbing, ruddy instrument of their collective will. He moved the few inches to Elena EM, guided himself into her welcoming, sopping cunt, and thrust home. She screamed in joyful, friendly ecstasy, bucking back against him immediately. “Yes! Oh God, right there, fuck me!”
He pounded into her, his rhythm growing ragged, desperate. Dariana, not finished, positioned herself underneath Elena EM, her mouth finding Elena’s clit, licking and sucking as Briv fucked her from above. Andra watched, then moved behind Briv again. She pressed her big round breasts against his sweaty back, her elegant hands reaching around to play with his nipples, to stroke his stomach, to whisper in his ear. “Look at them. You’re doing so well. Our good little fuck-toy. Giving everyone what they need.”
He was a conduit, a tool being passed between them, each woman using him for her specific pleasure. Elena EM came first, her body convulsing around his cock, her cries muffled by Dariana’s mouth between her legs. As her spasms subsided, Dariana pulled out from under her.
“Now,” Dariana commanded, her voice ragged but firm. She lay on her back on the tiles, spreading her legs. Her pussy was swollen, glistening. “Here. Finish here. I want to feel it.”
It was the final order. Briv pulled out of Elena EM and fell between Dariana’s thighs. He drove into her pussy one last time, the familiar, devastating tightness welcoming him home. Three strokes was all it took. The culmination of their dominant orchestration shattered his control.
“Now!” Andra hissed, her predatory voice the final trigger.
His orgasm erupted from his gut, a torrential, unstoppable flood. He slammed deep into Dariana and held there, his body rigid as pulse after pulse of hot seed jetted into her depths. It felt endless, a submissive offering of everything he had. Dariana arched beneath him, a second, quieter orgasm rippling through her as she felt him fill her.
He collapsed onto her, spent, trembling. The women didn’t push him off. Elena EM curled against his side, her friendly hand stroking his hair. Andra sat beside them, a elegant, satisfied predator surveying her work. Dariana’s arms came around him, holding him inside her, her dominance softened momentarily by a post-coital possessiveness.
The leaking tap dripped onto the floor. Their breathing slowly synced, a tired, sated rhythm in the steamy, sex-filled dark.
The water was still cold. He never did turn it on.