Chapter 3: Cunt Buffet
Stephanie lay on the floor, breathing in ragged hitches, feeling the twin loads of cum seep from her ruined holes. The van’s motion was the only thing that felt real. Everything else was a wet, aching haze.
Peg watched her from the front seat for a long moment, then undid her seatbelt with a decisive click. “My turn,” she said, her voice cutting through the thick air. She stood, crouching in the space between the seats, and began to shimmy out of her jeans. The denim caught on her boots, but she kicked free, then hooked her thumbs into the lace of her panties and slid them down her thick thighs. She let them drop to the floor near Stephanie’s head.
The difference was stark. Where Stephanie was lean and toned, Peg was all lush curves. Soft belly, wide hips, full D-cup breasts straining against her thin sweater. Her shaved pussy glistened, already wet.
Chris, who had been catching his breath on the back bench, watched her approach with a dark, hungry look. Peg didn’t speak. She simply climbed over him, kneeling on the seat on either side of his head, and lowered herself onto his face.
“Earn your keep, sprinter,” she breathed, and ground her cunt against his mouth.
Chris’s hands came up to grip her ass, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh. He devoured her with a muffled, eager sound, his tongue lapping at her folds before spearing deep inside. Peg threw her head back, a low moan escaping her lips. “Yes. Just like that. Fuck, your tongue is good.”
Stephanie watched, hypnotized, from the floor. The sight of Peg’s pleasure, so openly taken, sent a fresh pulse of want through her spent body.
Bob noticed. He nudged her leg with his boot. “You’re not done, sweetheart. Not even close.” He pointed to the bench seat. “Hook your legs through the armrests. Let’s see everything.”
Her muscles protested, but she obeyed, sliding her body until her shoulders were on the floor and her ass was perched at the edge of the seat. She hooked her knees through the metal armrests, spreading herself wide open. The position was profoundly vulnerable, her swollen pussy and leaking asshole completely exposed to the center of the van.
Bob groaned at the sight. “Fuck, yes.” He dropped to his knees between her splayed legs, his hands pushing her thighs even wider. He didn’t kiss her. He just dove in, his tongue a thick, rough point that stabbed directly into her clit.
Stephanie shrieked, her back arching off the floor. It was too much, too sensitive, but he didn’t let up. He licked and sucked at her, his nose buried in her messy folds, lapping up the combined seep of his own cum and Arroyo’s. The obscene, wet sounds filled her ears. “Tastes like victory,” he muttered against her, his breath hot.
Arroyo appeared at her head, his curved cock already hard again. He tapped it against her cheek. “Open up, gatita. You’re not tired, are you?”
She turned her head and took him into her mouth, sucking weakly. He chuckled. “There you go.” He set a slow, deep rhythm, fucking her throat with gentle persistence.
Adam moved to her other side. He watched Arroyo for a moment, then said, “Switch.” Without waiting, he pulled Arroyo’s slick cock from her lips and replaced it with his own, pushing in to the hilt. The taste of pre-cum and skin was sharp on her tongue. Arroyo just grinned and moved to stroke himself, watching Adam’s shaft disappear between her bruised lips.
In the front, Joe’s eyes were glued to the rearview mirror. One hand strangled the steering wheel. The other was in his lap, moving. The rasp of his zipper was quiet but unmistakable. He pulled out his solid, seven-inch cock and began to stroke in time with the rhythm in the back.
Peg rode Chris’s face with increasing fervor, her hips rocking, her hands braced on the van’s ceiling. “Make me come, you bastard,” she demanded, her voice cracking. “Suck my clit. Harder.”
Chris’s response was a muffled, affirmative grunt. His hands kneaded her ass, spreading her open for his tongue.
Bob was relentless between Stephanie’s legs. He drove two fingers back inside her fucked-out pussy, crooking them, while his tongue circled her clit in fast, tight circles. The overstimulation was torture. It was ecstasy. Stephanie felt a new, different orgasm building—not the sharp rupture from before, but a deep, rolling wave that started in her gut.
“She’s gonna come again,” Bob announced, his voice vibrating against her. “Look at her twitch. Fucking slut’s coming on my tongue.”
The permission in his words pushed her over. The climax washed through her, a long, shuddering release that made her juices flow fresh over Bob’s working face. He drank her down, groaning.
As she spasmed, Adam fucked her mouth harder, his pace losing its control. “Gonna come down your throat,” he warned, his quiet intensity finally breaking. He thrust deep and held, his body tensing. She felt the hot, salty pulses hit the back of her throat and swallowed convulsively, her eyes watering.
He pulled out, spent, and Arroyo immediately took his place, sliding his curved cock back into her well-used mouth. “My turn,” he murmured, threading his fingers through her hair. He didn’t last long either, the sight of her a mess beneath him too much. With a sharp cry, he came, and she swallowed that, too.
Peg’s climax hit a second later. She cried out, a raw, unfiltered sound, her body shaking as she ground down on Chris’s mouth. He held her through it, lapping at her until she slumped forward, spent.
The van was silent save for the road noise and heavy breathing. The scent of sex and sweat was overwhelming.
Bob finally pulled back from Stephanie’s pussy, his beard glistening. He looked up at Peg, a question in his eyes.
Peg, still catching her breath on Chris’s chest, smiled. It was a slow, wicked thing. She looked at Joe in the mirror. “Your turn to direct, honey.”
Joe’s hand stilled on his cock. His voice, when it came, was rough. “Bob. Chris. Pick her up. Put her on the bench. On her hands and knees.”
There was a swift, efficient motion as the two men moved. They hauled Stephanie up from the floor and positioned her on the middle bench, her trembling hands and knees sinking into the vinyl. She felt the cool air on her wet skin.
“Peg,” Joe said, his eyes locked on the mirror. “Come up here.”
Peg disentangled herself from Chris and crawled back to the passenger seat, naked from the waist down. She sat, her legs spread, watching.
“Arroyo, Adam,” Joe continued, his voice taking on a calm, commanding tone. “You’re on her mouth. One after the other. Keep her busy. Bob, you take her pussy again. Chris, her ass. I want her filled. I want her stretched. I want to hear her choke.”
The men moved into position without a word. This was the geometry they’d all fantasized about. Arroyo guided his semi-hard cock back between Stephanie’s lips, while Adam waited his turn, stroking himself back to fullness. Bob positioned himself behind her, his long cock nudging at her slippery entrance. Chris spat into his palm, slicked his thick shaft, and pressed it against her other hole.
Joe’s foot pressed slightly harder on the accelerator. The van surged forward into the night.
“Now,” Joe said.
And they took her.
Peg unbuckled her seatbelt with a sharp click and leaned over the console, taking Joe’s solid cock into her mouth in one smooth, deep motion. Joe’s grip tightened on the wheel, a low groan escaping his lips as the van weaved slightly, the double sensation of her hot, expert mouth and the relentless fucking in the mirror overwhelming his focus.
He fought the sensation, focusing on the road signs blurring past, and guided the van onto the exit ramp, the tires bumping over the concrete divider as they entered the harsh fluorescence of a fast-food lot. “Alright, animals,” Joe grunted, his voice strained as Peg deep-throated him, “whose hungry?”