How do you describe the act of being face fucked? It's more than just opening your mouth and being on the receiving end of rough, phallic penetration. My mouth takes the place of my pussy for this man, to be sure. I'd imagine him wrapping the same hands that currently grip my hair around my hips, pulling my pussy back onto his cock just as he'd thrust it forward into me. Only now that was happening with my mouth. The bruises I'd develop around my labia and hips would be borne by my lips, my tongue, and hopefully my throat.
Unlike any other blowjob, a face fuck relieves me of any power. He'll help himself to what he needs. He'll thrust as hard as he wants. As deep as he wants. He'll hold it there as long as he wants, until my eyes water and bulge, until my face turns red and I push against his hips to be released and breathe...or until I pass out. This first man-- I don't know his name but my brain won't let me call him anything but Mister Coffee now. He seemed pretty at home with my hair firmly in his grip, telling me he was going to enjoy making my makeup run tonight. I smiled as much as someone with a mouthful of cock can, a smile that plainly reached my eyes, if his own grin was any indication.
In that moment, I noticed how much the scene centered on me being the submissive. Sir giving me instructions. Me, on my knees and my mouth open, my hair just a harness in this moment to help Mister Coffee fuck my throat. And there were still 10 other men waiting with their cocks hanging out. Waiting....for me. To touch me, to fuck me, to hear me moan and scream in pleasure as I enjoyed all the delights their bodies and minds had to offer. To make my ass their cum dumpster tonight.
Yes, this gang bang adventure was a thrill but there was something else. My one pussy and mouth versus 12 cocks...one woman and twelve men and I would leave here tonight with a little bit of each of them inside me. At the end of the night, I would feel deliciously used and exhausted and imagine the pools of cum I carried inside but I would also carry the accomplishment that I took it all. That once one man was spent, my body would be ready for someone else to take his place and to me, that is not submission. That is domination. At the end of the night, I will have conquered all 12 of them and with that thought, the thrill in my core grew.
I wonder if that thrill called to them in some way. Only a few seconds after my contemplations of conquest passed when a pair of hands gripped my hips, splitting my attention. Thanks to Mr. Coffee, I couldn't turn my head to see who was presently lining their cock up to my pussy. I was no stranger to double penetration but thanks to the unyielding silicone currently occupying my asshole, the sensations all over my body were being amplified. Everything, the pain in my scalp, the thrusts against my face, it all felt more intense.
This was it. The beginning.
I looked up at Mister Coffee and saw his gaze following whatever was happening behind me. He counseled the New Guy on how to slide into me, telling him to go slowly, to keep a thumb against the plug...otherwise he might force it out.
The instructions only served to paint a picture: two men manipulating their own pleasure from an object that had presented itself, namely me. A pretty little thing, bent at the waist, mouth eager and pussy even more so. Feeling the man's head poised at my entrance, the tension inside me only multiplied with the anticipation. Pressure pounded the walls of a hole aching to be pounded, railed, and filled. An action I was looking, hoping to have repeated by every man in this room tonight.
Pound me.
Rail me.
Fill me.
Next.
I moaned against the cock in my mouth and I attempted to slide myself onto the cock behind me. For a brief moment, that familiar spread of tender flesh began as his cock slowly nestled between my folds but it was pulled away and playful slap found my ass instead.
"Lets not get greedy, baby girl," a deep voice admonished. "If we go too quick and this pops out, we might have to wait until you squeeze it back into that pretty ass to keep this party moving."
Fair point.
A smooth, dark skinned hand settled on top of mine, and the weight of a hard, muscular torso rested on my back. His voice directly in my ear surprised me, warm breath brushing the tiniest hairs of my neck and ear sending ripples of raised flesh along my arm, evident to all three of us in the closeness of that intimate moment.
"But maybe that's what you want, baby girl. Maybe you want that plug to fall out so there will be an extra hole for us to fuck. You don't just want us to cum in your ass. You want to feel your body's tight little opening getting pushed into."
At that moment, he pushed his hips forward. He didn't penetrate me but he did push the tunnel deeper. Another thrust. Still no penetration but the image was building in my mind that this is what he'd be doing to my ass if there wasn't a plug in it. He wouldn't be gentle.
"Is that what you want? You think you could take my thick dick in your tight ass, baby girl?"
And just at that moment, he pushed off, his weight disappearing.
Instead I felt a very heavy and hard slap against my pussy. I jumped as it made contact with a very engorged clit but I had no where to go. The men around me seemed to enjoy that. Another slap and another and I realized it was the same rhythm of the thrusts against my ass. He was swinging his cock between my legs and letting it slap my pussy on the upswing.
"Is that what you want?" The deep voice questioned.
I looked up at Mr. Coffee who narrowed his eyes just before pulling out his cock.
I took a deep breath and whispered, "Yes."
Another slap to my clit.
Mr. Coffee looked down with a grin. "I don't think he heard you. Louder."
SLAP!
I yelped. "Yes!" I said, sterner and louder than before.