He Knew Her Well

Copyright 2009, Nicolo "Loco" Parenti

You may freely distribute this story as long as you include the author's copyright and email address.

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The blindfold had been her own idea. She wasn't otherwise restrained. Only the folded scarf around her eyes looked out of place to the men who filed into the room.

They saw a woman sitting on a sofa, dressed in a casual blouse and skirt. She was about twenty-five, pretty as far as the scarf revealed, with shoulder-length blond hair. Trim legs on a slim figure suggested perhaps 5' 7". Her shoulders were slightly forward, revealing her anticipation but concealing the full thrust of her breasts.

The men were here - she was here - for sex. She couldn't tell how many had arrived, but she knew it was at least five, because that's what Michael had promised. Her lack of sight heightened other sense cues - she could literally smell the musk these naked forms exuded. She waited, patient but keenly aware of sounds and the movement of air, as the men edged closer.

Her skin was electrified, the tiny hairs on her arms reaching out for any stimulation, so when the first cock brushed her arm it felt like a hot iron. She flinched, then felt a hand cup her chin as warm breath caressed her cheek. This she knew was her lover and friend Michael, the one who had made this night of fantasy possible.

"Are you ready, cherie?" His pet name for her, playing on her real name. "Is it time to show them what they paid for?"

A mental jolt - paid for? That wasn't in the fantasy. And even as she thought it, she realized it might be true, or it might just be Michael. She smiled inwardly and accepted it. He knew her so well.

Determined not to speak, she simply stood and reached for the buttons on her blouse.

"No, cherie, other hands will do that."

And they did. Strong hands, rough, unfamiliar hands undid her blouse, casually touching and stroking her. Other hands found the zipper on her skirt, impatiently tugging it and her silky slip down and away. All the while she felt the brushing of the tips and shafts of cocks in various states of erection. Her knees weakened.

Soon she was left in only her sheer bra and panties, standing in a half- circle of naked men, palely quivering, alive to everything, her sex flaming, her nipples erect, her mind racing yet empty of reason, only sensation.

The hands continued. One man slipped the bra straps from her shoulders as another worked the clasp, releasing what everyone now saw was a fine pair of breasts, firm and fleshy with nipples proud. A mouth found one, and a signal coursed directly to her pussy. Then the other was occupied as two men cupped and nipped at her mounds. She began to seep.

Other hands worked their way into her panties, rudely fingering her fore and aft, finding evidence of her arousal. Instead of sliding the panties down her lovely legs, they tore them off, leaving her fully exposed.

Pressure on her shoulders forced her to kneel. She moaned at the thought of what was coming, almost wishing her hands were tied for this initial assault, to complete the delicious sense of helplessness.

Then she was glad they weren't, as two cocks touched her cheeks and she raised her hands to grasp them. The size of them! The heat, and the hardness! Another moan as her mouth engulfed the one on her left. She bobbed her head, tonguing the sensitive spot, while stroking with her other hand. A quick switch, and the second cock received a wet welcome.

Back and forth, six strokes on this one, ten on that, never too many and always varied, she worked her two shafts - she considered them hers - until finally one of the men could take no more. He roughly clasped the sides of her head and began fucking her face. In seconds he flooded her mouth with semen, grunting out his orgasm in pulses to match his spurts.

Reluctantly she let him go with a last sucking slurp, and his companion took up the slack. Soon his semen too was in her mouth and dripping from her nose and chin, and then two more eager men were at her. What she didn't manage to swallow ran in rivulets down to her chest and belly.

In her blindness she gauged the cocks by other means. Some were longer, some thicker, some rough with veins. One curved sharply upward. She felt a mild regret that all were freshly washed - until she tasted them she hadn't realized that she'd expected some to be a little gamy.

After three pairs, a lone cock presented itself. So there are seven, she thought. She hadn't recognized Michael, but she knew this wasn't his. This was the biggest, saved for last, she supposed. Fleetingly she wondered if it was black, then decided that it would be, since at least one such cock was required in her fantasy. She reached to cup the heavy balls, intending to lavish this beauty with oral love.

But the big cock had its own agenda. It took her semen-slick mouth as its own. In and out, it rasped her throat and scraped a bit against her teeth. It set up a rhythm that pleased it, and didn't disappoint her. For several minutes it took its pleasure, and when it finally released a payload, the discharge overwhelmed her. Jets of potent seed made her gag, and lose contact with the tip. Her face was slimed but she was happy, not for the goo but for the getting of it.

Hands that had been supporting and caressing her, pinching and probing, were withdrawn. Michael leaned in and helped her to her feet, kissing her gently on the back of the neck - her only dry place - murmuring how proud he was of her, and how sexy she looked while sucking cock. She could tell from the sounds around her that the men were recovering, stroking themselves back to life. The ice was broken, and after a short recess more fun awaited.

He led her to the bathroom, took off the soiled scarf and helped clean the semen, some caked and some still dripping, from her lovely face and frame. She kissed him passionately, the taste of seven men on her lips, as he reassured her.

But now it was time to continue. "Do you want the blindfold still?"

She hesitated. They had seen her, all of her - did she want to see them?

"You know, cherie, they could be men you see every day. Men you've talked with, bought from, worked next to, brushed past at the gym..."

They'd talked about that. Did it matter? She decided it did. It meant that every man who smiled at her tomorrow, every eye that followed her, might be remembering the way her nipples tasted, how her mouth felt on his cock. In the long run, isn't not knowing more... interesting?

She shuddered a little. "Are any of them black?"

He smiled. "With the blindfold, as many as you like." Oh, yes, he knew her well. She accepted a fresh scarf, and with it the continuation of fantasy.

The seven were growing restive, with murmurings audible through the door, demanding pussy. As they left the bath, Michael guided her through a gantlet of erections toward a bed near the center of the room.

She was pressed backward until her knees touched the mattress, making her fall onto her back. Rough hands spread her legs as stubbled cheeks scratched at her thighs. She would learn today that some men loved to eat a fresh pussy, and some enjoyed a well-fucked one.

This man knew his craft. He nibbled at her outer lips, gradually opening them to lick the inner ones. Occasionally he'd flatten his tongue and sweep along the track from her asshole to her clitoris, then pause to suck at the hooded bud. Soon that morsel sought more stimulation, peeking out from shelter and throbbing in anticipation of the next nip.

Some of the others joined in. Her breasts were massaged, the sensitive nipples tweaked and pulled. Hot male mouths sucked them to even greater states of erection. As her arousal grew with each kiss and caress, the licker worked relentlessly at her crotch.

She felt the stirrings of a climax, and a flush spread upward to redden her breasts and face. Her lingual lover intensified his ministrations, applying more attention and force to her eager clit. Her breathing became quicker and shallower - she strained for release.

And then she was there, over the top, clutching his head with hands and legs, rigid in orgasm, at first soundless and then in full voice, as waves of pleasure radiated from her core to fill her consciousness. He kept a steady pressure on her sensitive parts as she rode those waves, holding her at one peak and taking her to the next, until she could stand no more.

But there was more. He stood, and from his position at the edge of the bed, with her legs still dangling to the floor, he pressed his length fully into her in one swift stroke. It was his turn now. And having been expertly sucked off just a short while ago, he was going to last a bit.

He fucked her like a pile driver, his selfish pleasure-seeking in sharp contrast to the attentiveness of a few moments ago. Yet for all that he seemed not to care what she felt, his insistent, metronomic pounding, the slap of his balls against her asshole, the rough grasp of his hands on her tender breasts, all combined to focus her anew. Time distended. Was it one minute? Thirty?

When she became aware again, his pace had increased. She knew his climax was imminent, and it triggered her own. As she yelped in surprise, he howled with her, pressed himself against her as if trying to enter her entirely, and came. They say a woman can't really feel a cock squirt inside her, but she felt something as he gave up his second load of the evening to her willing body.

No rest for the weary. The sights and sounds of the madly fucking couple had aroused the other men to a frenzy of lust. Her lover was almost pulled from her loins as another eager stud replaced him. He also took his pleasure with no thought to hers, and the indifference, being treated like a cheap whore, a sperm receptacle, a rag of flesh, made her dizzy. This was her fantasy: rutting, faceless cocks plunging in and out of her with no regard, no love, just raw sex.

Then a third man was fucking her, then a fourth. There was no nuance here. Aside from some distinctive ones, like the one that curved upward, they were just cocks. One of them had to be Michael's, but she neither knew nor cared which. She was in almost constant orgasm, sometimes interrupted as one man spewed his satisfaction and left her to the next.

She became so slick inside that the fifth man couldn't get the friction he needed. His solution was to find a less-used hole. The river that ran from her pussy had covered her asshole as well, and he used his fingers to work a mess of it in. Raising her legs for better alignment, he pushed, and pushed, until she relaxed her sphincter enough to let him in.

He worked even more of the ropy lube into her ass with his cock, until finally he was stroking full length into her back passage. This was not entirely new to her, and not unexpected now, but in the past it had been a special occasion, a deliberate surrender to the desires of a gentle partner, well prepared for and suffered with love.

This was different. This man - she knew it wasn't Michael - didn't give a damn about her feelings. He needed to spend his seed someplace hot and tight, and her pussy wasn't up to standards right now.

She was sure this meant the end of her orgasms. With no stimulation in the places that mattered, how could she reach another? But she was wrong. The invited degradation of her fantasy role worked upon her. She saw herself as if from outside her body, a groaning, cock-filled hole for the pleasure of these invisible men. And she felt the sensations build again until the unimaginable happened, as strong and pure as her very first time. She was coming on a cock in her ass, her pussy spasming emptily as her bowels convulsed in joy.

Those convulsions were too much for lover number five, and he shouted out his climax, depositing several shots into this unnatural chamber.

As he fell back, she felt hands lifting her away. The next man took her place on the bed, and she was turned to face him. No words were needed as she was urged forward, up onto the mattress. She knew what to do. She sank to her knees, grasping the rigid pole beneath and guiding it into her until she was seated firmly upon it like a cowgirl on a bronc.

She was expected to provide the motion, and she did. She lifted herself until the cock was almost out, then shoved home, pube to pube, rocking to stimulate her clit against his hairy crotch. Over and over she repeated the action, breasts bouncing, gaining speed as she fucked her current man. She could sense he was getting close, and she was just starting to catch up when a second pair of hands grasped her shoulders and moved her forward.

She had a moment of confusion as the man beneath pulled her down, her chest to his, but that lasted only until the last man pushed his cock against her now exposed asshole. She was going to be fucked in both holes at once, for the first time in her life. And while she hadn't exactly been keeping track, she knew just before she really knew, that this was the seventh man, the black one. The huge one.

Her sphincter slowly opened to accept what felt like a fencepost. He eased his way in, pulling out an inch for every two he gained, adding slick and sticky natural lube as he went. Before long he was all the way in place, and she knew the amazing fullness of double penetration. Then they started to move.

Most of the action came from the cock in her ass, as her largest lover stroked away. When his rhythm became more regular, the man in her pussy began to match it, first in alternation, then in sync. The sensations were mind-blowing, almost literally. Her consciousness began to split. Part of her was again the observer, above the fray and watching her dual violation with detachment. The other part was lost in a web of pleasure as the two men used her body, her holes, for their own lewd enjoyment and as spectacle for the others.

It seemed like hours but must have been just a few minutes, because neither she nor the two men could long resist the inexorable ascent to climax. A chain reaction was started by the ass-fucker, who lost all sense of cooperative rhythm and plunged feverishly into her rear, finally freezing and letting go with a growl, leaving the second load of the night in her bowels. This set off the man in her pussy, then her.

The two on the bed slumped as she squeezed the outsized member from her rear. Semen oozed from the opening, which slowly closed until only a slight swollen redness gave evidence that it had just enjoyed a visit from a big cock. She rolled to the side, collapsed really, disengaging the other limp member, and lay satiated and spread-eagled on her back, her crotch a gooey mess from front to back.

If she thought it was over, she was mistaken. The sight she offered was pure invitation to one of the men, who we alluded earlier liked his pussy with a cream topping. His approach startled her, but she accepted it as part of the adventure. Besides, she reasoned it would be strictly passive - there were no orgasms left.

He chewed her lips, slurped her juices, licked up the remains of seven male and countless female spendings. He dug his tongue into both her holes, and amazing to say, began to reach her pleasure center. She squirmed and fussed, not believing that it could be happening again, but after a few minutes it certainly was. Without warning she crested one more time, her hips coming off the bed as the last tongue of the day drove her to a final glorious climax.

She must have passed out, because next she knew the room was empty to her ears.

"Was it what you expected, cherie? What you needed?" Michael, sweet Michael.

"Oh, god, it was but it wasn't. No one could have expected exactly that." She slipped off the blindfold and looked closely at him, worried that this would damage what they had. But she saw only love and care in his lopsided smile.

"Good. I know the boys enjoyed it. They asked me to thank you, and offered to buy in again any time." His grin increased. Had they paid? Was she now literally a whore?

"What about you, Michael? Was this what you expected? Can you live with a complete slut? Can you ever look at me again and not see what you saw here tonight?"

"I hope not. This was a mad experience. I don't want to forget it. Good thing I have the pictures to help keep the memory alive."

She shot up. "Michael! You can't keep pictures! You know there's no such thing as private forever. If they got out I'd be ruined. Tell me you..."

His mischievous look gave him away. She'd been played again.

He knew her so well.

-- End --

With love from Nico, April 2009