This writing is meant to let you imagine what it would be like to be at the center of a gang bang; not only the physical parts of being in one but the dehumanizing and degrading parts as well. If you are not turned on by being used and degraded this may not work for you. You're meant to read and interact with the instructions that follow. It also works to have your partner read it to you. If you've read my other writings similar to this, you know how it works but please read the guidelines below anyway as they will help get you into the proper headspace.
I'm going to count backward from "ten" to "one" gradually building intensity. You're going to touch yourself in exactly the ways I tell you. You're going to imagine and picture the things I describe. Under no circumstance are you allowed to use a toy. You're only allowed to use your fingers. If you're the type of person who thinks she can't get off without a toy, I ask you to try. I ask you to see if you can let go and allow these words to carry you to wherever they end up.
The most important instructions are as follows: You aren't allowed to cum before you get to the number "one." Also, you're not allowed to cum substantially after. This is about controlling and pacing yourself. It is about allowing the tension in your body to build. Hopefully, these instructions will guide you to a more intense orgasm. As you read, feel the pressure building inside you. By the time you reach the number "two," you should be right there on the edge. Your orgasm should be built up and spilling over. If you feel yourself getting too close, slow down. Gently touch yourself before resuming. Do this over and over again. Build and retreat. Build a little more and retreat.
Take your time to read this. Give your hand a chance to catch up to your mind. You are welcomed to pause in between sentences. You are welcomed to prolong this experience by going back and rereading sections that turn you on before working your way to "one."
Make yourself comfortable. Go somewhere quiet. Turn off all the noise that pollutes your life. Be alone with your thoughts. I want you to feel as if these words are moving your still and rested body. Take a deep breath, a really deep breath. Hold it a moment before exhaling. Exhale until all the air has left your lungs. Allow it to exit your body along with your stress and tension. Now, do it again. Inhale all the way. Hold it. And then exhale. The longer you exhale the more bad you push out. Feel your body becoming lighter. Feel your stress and worry fading away.
I want you to take your time before you slip your hand between your legs. Glide your fingers up and down your thigh. If your breasts are exposed, circle your nipples with the backs of your fingers. You're in no rush. Take a deep breath. Arch your back a little. Feel your hips wanting to grind against the air above you. We both know soon you will be touching yourself, but this is the time before that. This is when all the anticipation is at its peak. Touch yourself in exactly the ways you'd want someone to touch you. Imagine it is his hand on your body. Get closer and closer to that wet slit.
Maybe you've been in a gang bang. Maybe you've only fantasized about it. Either way, it is about to happen. Inside your mind, you're going to experience it as you touch yourself for me. Slide your hand between your legs. Glide the backs of your fingers up and down along your lips, up and down; up and down.
You now have my permission to press your fingers to your clit. Remember, slowly build as I count backward. Do not cum before or after the number, "one." As you begin to touch yourself, imagine everything I describe.
Ten!
Imagine that you're standing in the bedroom of a luxurious hotel suite. Start out slowly. Rub your fingers around and around nice and easy; nice and slow. The carpet is soft against your feet. The bed is large. There is an armoire in front of you with mirrors on the doors. Stare at your naked body. See yourself as you are: fragile and vulnerable but wildly ferocious when you need to be. Framing you in the background is this thick button-tufted headboard against the wall. Beside the bed are two nightstands with long sleek lamps on them. On either side of the armoire are two wall-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. The curtains are opened. The sun has just set. The lights are coming on in the other buildings. Look how beautiful you are at this moment. You know what's coming. You know why you're here. You've been fantasizing about this for a long time.
You hear the bedroom door open but you don't look. A dozen naked men file in. Some are talking and laughing. A dark-haired man walks over to the window and closes the curtains. One by one they file in around you. You see them in the mirror. Some are muscular and young. Some are older with rounding bellies. Rub your pussy as you imagine all that body heat filling the air as most of them slowly stroke their cocks. Feel the way they're looking at you. Each one of them is sharing the same thought. "We are going to wreck her. We are going to use every inch of her body."
Take a deep breath. You want this to happen. You've been desperate for a long time to just let go and feel completely used. Feel your hips rising up as you touch yourself. Your body is drawn to all these men. You can practically smell their sweat. You can taste their testosterone on your lips. This is the calm before there is no turning back. This is the last step before you leap.
Nine!
Rub your clit a little faster when you feel the first one touch you. His hand is rough and there is no sensuality to his actions. He's groping you like you're a cut of meat and he's inspecting you for marbling. Other hands follow. Soon, you lose count. It's as if every inch of your body is covered by them. They're squeezing and pulling you one way and then another, gradually getting rougher. They're so rough you'd lose your balance if there weren't other hands there holding you up. It's almost as if they devolved into primal versions of themselves. You sense it. By day, they could be bankers or salesmen. They could be chefs or valets. They could be college students or CEOs. They could be trial lawyers or dishwashers. You know none of them. You've never seen them before. When they came into the bedroom, they stopped being individuals. They moved as a group, all sharing one singular thought.
Your breasts get squeezed. Your ass gets spread. One says, "We've got a good one here."
Another agrees. "We do indeed. She looks like a proper whore."