Devoured in the Hotel: My First Threesome Surrender

Heart pounding, I step into the hotel lobby. Bustier hugs my tits, no bra, skirt so short my ass peeks. Receptionist’s eyes devour my reflection on the shiny floor—pussy lips and bush staring back. Seb lifts my skirt, fingers my cheeks right there. Elevator doors close. He yanks down my top, sucks my nipples hard, like a starving baby. Milkless tits throb. I stumble to the room, breasts bare, dripping.

Long kiss at the door. Clothes ripped off. Naked on the bed. Scarves bind wrists and ankles to the frame. Blindfold plunges me into dark. ‘Enjoy,’ he whispers. Phone call to reception. Knock. Deep voice: ‘Offered like a feast.’ Comments flood: wet slit, hard clit, full lips, bushy mound. Zipper down. Furious stroking. Hot spurts hit my skin. He leaves. I’m soaked, fire between legs.

The Fever Ignites

Hands glide ankles to thighs, tease pubis, skirt my hole. Begging now—touch me, fuck me, lick. Champagne pours cold on my heat. Warm breath. Tongue flicks clit, soft, rapid. Doubts swirl—is it him? Explosion. I squirt, body convulses, unseen waves crash.

Bustier off in shower. He soaps my pussy, lays me in tub, legs wide. Razor scrapes bush, lips, ass. Smooth as silk. Peignoir dropped. Kiss. Door knocks. Naked, I hide behind it. Opens—Sam. Towering, grinning. ‘Love ebony stick?’ Seb taunts. Music pulses. Dance. His bulge grinds my belly. Undress him slow. Shirt buttons pop. Belt, pants drop. Monster springs—25cm thick, veined, balls heavy.

The Raging Blaze

Fingers circle clit, gentle press. Suck nipple, trail to navel, tongue dives pussy. Lick soft, deep. Instant cum. Kneel. Grip shaft, eye-lock, tongue swirl head. Pump, suck, too big for throat. Moans echo. He pulls back.

Seb behind, kisses neck. Four hands roam—tits, ass, slit. Sam on bed, condom on, ‘Ride.’ Impale slow. Stretches me wide, pain-pleasure burn. Seb fingers ass—one, two. Then crouches, lubes, pushes in. Both buried. Full. Heart hammers. They thrust—savage rhythm. Pussy and ass pounded. Sweat slicks skin. I scream, squirt floods. They roar, fill condoms deep.

Collapse in heap. Bodies slick, heaving. Seb showers. Sam slips my number, smirks. ‘Tired?’ Seb asks. Skin still buzzes, holes ache sweetly. Week later, his text: time, place. Legs shake. That cock haunts. I reply—yes, but my rules. Dress, no panties. Fever lingers, ashes smolder. Crave more danger.