Chapter 2: Virgin's first taste of cock
For a long moment, nothing moved. The silence was a living thing, pressed tight against Eve’s eardrums. She stared at Mac, at the man she loved, his face now a mask of cold, excited ownership in the flickering candlelight.
His thumb stroked the head of his cock slowly, deliberately. He watched her cry.
“You okay, baby?” he asked finally, his voice a rough whisper that didn’t match the cruelty in his eyes.
She couldn’t speak. Her gaze darted from him to the ring of men, their bodies a wall of muscle and intention. The sheer size of them, the sheer number, made the room feel impossibly small. Their cocks were like accusations, each one a violation of a promise she’d made to herself, to God. But beneath the ice in her veins, a traitorous heat was spreading, a pooling weakness between her thighs that shamed her more than the tears.
She looked at the men, at their hard, naked bodies, and a strange, dizzying awe cut through the panic. She gave a subtle, almost imperceptible nod.
A slow smile spread across Mac’s face. “Good girl,” he murmured. He leaned forward, grabbing her chin, and kissed her. It wasn’t gentle. It was a claim, possessive and deep, his tongue pushing past her lips until she tasted the whiskey he’d been drinking. When he pulled back, her breath was coming in shallow gasps.
“Alright, listen up,” Mac said, turning his head to address the room but keeping his eyes locked on Eve’s glistening ones. “She’s gotta take six of us. That’s a lot. We can’t just go in dry. That ain’t right.” He ran a hand through her hair, his fingers tangling in the curls. “We gotta make her ready. We gotta make her so wet she’s begging for it.”
Eve whimpered, a sound of pure fear that caught in her throat.
“Dar, Lamar,” Mac ordered, his tone casual, as if directing traffic. “Get those pretty nipples hard. Jam, Will—you’re on her mouth. Let her get used to the feel. Dre, with me.”
Hands were on her instantly. Dar’s mouth, hot and wet, closed over her left nipple through the thin silk of her camisole. She jerked as if shocked, a sharp cry escaping her. Lamar took the other, his technique rougher, sucking hard enough to make her arch off the bed. The dual sensation was a bolt of lightning straight to her core, a shocking, undeniable pleasure that tore a moan from her lips.
At the same time, Jam’s cock, clean and smooth, pressed against her lips. “Open up, Eve,” he said softly, his hand cradling her cheek. Will’s thicker one nudged at her other hand, urging her to take it. She was surrounded, inundated. The world narrowed to the points of contact: the sucking on her breasts, the salty taste on her tongue, the heavy weight in her fist.
“See?” Mac’s voice was close to her ear. Dre was beside him, kneeling on the bed, his eyes dark and hungry. “She loves it. Her body knows.”
Mac’s own hand slid between her legs, over the silk of her panties. She was soaked. The fabric was slick. He chuckled, a low, wicked sound. “Fucking dripping. And you thought you didn’t want this.”
He hooked his fingers in the side of her panties and pulled, the delicate material ripping with a sound that was final. The cool air hit her exposed skin, and she squeezed her eyes shut, humiliation burning her face. But the humiliation was getting tangled up with something else, a throbbing, empty need that was building with every pull on her nipples, every stroke of her tongue.
“Everyone gets a taste,” Mac announced. “One at a time. No rushing.”
The men switched positions with a rough, practiced efficiency. Will replaced Dar at her breast, his mouth huge and overwhelming. Dre took Jam’s place at her lips, his thrusts into her mouth deeper, less forgiving, making her gag until tears welled again. Lamar’s hands were on her thighs, spreading them wider as Mac watched, his expression one of avid fascination.
Jam’s mouth, surprisingly soft, traveled down her stomach. He looked up at her, his eyes holding a question. Mac gave a single nod.
When Jam’s tongue touched her, a flat, wet stroke right through her folds, Eve screamed. It wasn’t a scream of pain. It was a shattering of something inside her, a dam of shame and denial breaking all at once. Her hips bucked off the bed of their own volition.
“There it is,” Mac growled, his own breathing becoming ragged. “Fucking there it is.”
Jam ate her with a focused, gentle intensity that was utterly devastating. Lamar kissed and bit the inside of her thigh. Will still suckled at her breast, his big hands squeezing the other. Dre fucked her mouth in a steady rhythm. She was being consumed from all sides, her mind fragmenting under the sensory assault. Prayer fled. Only sensation remained, raw and electric.
Mac let it go on until her cries were continuous, until her body was writhing not in protest but in pursuit of more. He tapped Jam’s shoulder. “Enough. She’s close. We need her loose, not finished.”
Jam pulled away, his mouth glistening. Eve sobbed at the loss, her body trembling violently.
“Fingers,” Mac commanded. “One each. Get her used to the stretch.”
Dar was the first. He knelt between her legs, a single finger, thick and probing, sliding through her wetness before pressing at her entrance. She was so sensitized, so swollen, that even one finger felt immense. He pushed in slowly, to the knuckle, and her back arched.
“Jesus,” Dar breathed, his eyes rolling back. “She’s tight as a fist.”
He slid it in and out, a shallow, teasing rhythm. Will went next, adding a second finger beside Dar’s. The stretch was a burning, glorious ache. Lamar added a third, then Dre, crowding around, their fingers tangling inside her, stretching her wider than she’d ever imagined possible.
They took turns, a crude, rhythmic fingering, each man pushing in and out in sequence until the sensation blurred into a continuous, mind-melting stretch. The room filled with the wet, obscene sound of it, mingling with their grunts and her own shattered, pleading whimpers.
“Look at that,” Mac said, his voice thick. He was staring, his hand working his own cock faster now. “Look how she takes it. She’s creaming all over their hands.”
It was true. With every push, with every slow, deliberate invasion, a fresh rush of fluid leaked from her, coating their fingers and the sheets beneath her. The pleasure was a tidal wave, erasing the last fragments of her resistance. She was a vessel, being filled, being prepared.
Mac finally pushed Dar’s hand aside. He leaned over her, his face filling her vision, sweaty and fierce. “You ready?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. “You see what’s coming? You feel how open you are?”
He positioned himself, the broad, familiar head of his cock pressing against her. Not where she was used to him, but lower, at the virgin threshold she had guarded with her life.
This was it. The point of no return.
She looked past his shoulder, at the five other men watching, waiting their turn, their hands and mouths still working her skin. She looked into Mac’s eyes, seeing only her own ruined reflection.
Her body, slick and throbbing, made the decision for her. Her hips lifted in a silent, desperate plea.
Mac pushed.