I feel the familiar squeeze of a woman when she massages my cock. I can smell her sweet lotion rising from her tits as it fumigates the room, painting the facade that this is a loving place.
"Haven't I done enough...?" I whimper. My dick hardens from her touch and she stands up to remove her panties so she can perform the next task.
"Answer me!" I cry, but the woman ignores my plea.
My cock is pushed past her already sopping pussy lips, slithering inside of her fuck hole. Her hips lower down until she bottoms out onto my lap. Her walls provide a different type of massage. Unlike her tits, this is a grip I can never escape. Sometimes, I could jerk my hips in a way where I'll slip myself out from her cleavage and although she quickly adjusts it back in place, that moment of freedom always brings me relief. But with her pussy, it is impossible.
"Fuck..." I groan. This woman is always one of the first to take a ride. I don't know her name, but she looks like a Layla. It seems fitting with her long, dyed auburn hair that gives me the impression that she's a spitfire in her regular life. She's wearing makeup as if this is some fancy outing, but she never makes conversation. She only walks in and takes.
When you've had so many holes, they start to blend together and many of them are average at best, but Layla has the ability to drain me dry. She thrusts up against me slowly at first; I can feel her pubes tickling my stomach. Then, she moves up and down, giving only the root of my cock air to breath before sheathing once again.
"You'll get what's coming, I swear!" I say with as much rage as I could muster. Layla takes this as a challenge. Lifting herself up with only the head of my dick still inside, she grips onto my shoulders and claws her painted nails into my sweaty flesh.
"Cute..." is the only word that I hear come from her mouth. Her hips fall downward, re-penetrating her pussy with my rock-hard shaft. The rush was relieving. I secretly begged to be encased in this woman's pussy and when she gave it to me it didn't take much for our meeting to end. My bound hands jerk against the restraints as my orgasm takes control of my body. My heart is racing and I must find release.
"Fuck fuck fuck...FUUUCK!"
Layla clenches around me, throwing her head back while my seed flows upward into her awaiting hole. It's so much that I can feel the cum spilling along my lap.
Day 32 of the experiment has begun.
Layla was the first one. Then came someone I named Cheyenne. She looks like someone who can be a kind-hearted librarian with light brown shoulder length hair and freckles. Her body was slim with no muscle and below 5 feet. You wouldn't imagine her to be so dominant.
"You've been waiting for this pussy, haven't you? You fucking slut!"
"Yes ma'am"
"Louder!"
"Yes ma'am!"
Cheyenne tried all types of positions, even though we were limited to the chair today. She got her fill riding my dick from behind. She caressed my face by reaching behind to lay her delicate fingers on my cheek and I sniffed at her hair which smelled like fresh mountain breeze.
She always gave compliments after our fuck to make up for her harsh words. Today it was, "You're going to be a great father."
Olivia was next, then Yasmin, Latoya, Stacy, Blair...
Jessica, Tonya, Shari, and Uma.
By the time I was expecting Elizabeth to visit, there was a commotion happening outside of the door. A lot of shuffling and defensive arguments. "We don't know what you're talking about," Elizabeth said, "If he's missing, he may've traveled far. I don't see why you'd come here when I don't even know this man."