You can change the width of the story text shown below:
Use how much percent of the screen width?
Options: Plain text or PDF (fanclub only!) version | Mark story | Mark author
Don't forget to vote for this story, in the yellow voting box below the story!
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story
no dress ever failed to draw attention. She knew her shape was enticing. Men had told her so often enough on messy nights out, one-night stands and hookups in the past. But tonight, under the sharp scrutiny of strangers, she wasn't sure if she believed it.
She'd finally settled on a fitted black dress that hugged her waist and flared slightly at the hips, the hem cutting just above mid-thigh. It accentuated everything she wanted it to: the swell of her hips, the length of her legs, the promise of curves beneath fabric.
Her hair - dyed a rich auburn-red - was swept up into a sophisticated twist, leaving her pale neck bare. Her makeup was bolder than usual: black eyeliner, a haze of eyeshadow that made her piercing blue eyes seem almost otherworldly, and a deep red lipstick to match. She looked striking with her porcelain skin and soft, round features, the kind of beauty you might expect to see at a cocktail party or a theatre opening. Not the type of girl you'd expect to find slipping into a sex club on a Saturday night.
Which, of course, made her heart hammer harder.
In the car, Dylan looked maddeningly relaxed, one hand on the wheel, humming to whatever played on the radio. He wore a dark shirt and jeans, sharper than usual, like he'd barely needed to try. They'd been fucking casually for three months, and she'd never seen him nervous. Not when he first pulled her panties off on their first date, not when he'd bent her over the desk in the back of the uni library, not even now.
When they pulled up, Ella's breath caught. The building didn't announce itself. Just a plain door between a barber's and a café, two men in suits outside, faces unreadable as they checked people in. She clutched her small clutch bag like a lifeline as Dylan killed the engine and glanced at her.
"You ready?"
Her palms were slick. She smoothed them over her dress, forcing her voice not to tremble. "As I'll ever be."
Inside, the foyer swallowed them in golden, low light. Velvet curtains hung heavy, muffling the sounds from beyond. The air was warm, perfumed, intimate. Ella's heels sank into plush carpet, her chest rising and falling quickly.
This is it. I'm really here.
The curtains parted.
The main lounge opened before them like another world. Velvet seating curved along the walls, mirrors reflected fragments of skin and lace, and clusters of guests moved in a haze of laughter, murmurs, and music. Some wore lingerie and heels, others sharp shirts, others nothing at all. In one corner, a woman in lace straddled a man lazily on a chaise longue. Across the room, a girl knelt between three men, her moans threading through the air like smoke.
Ella's breath caught again. This was the kind of scene she'd only ever seen in porn, never something she imagined unfolding in front of her eyes. A tiny voice in her head whispered this couldn't be real life, and yet here it was.
She froze, wide-eyed. Heat licked up her body.
Everyone here knows exactly why they've come. And now... so do I.
Dylan leaned close, lips brushing her ear. "Not quite the pub, is it?"
She let out a nervous laugh. "No. Definitely not."
They walked deeper, and Ella felt her skin prickle. Not from stares - nobody looked at her. Everyone was too absorbed in their own pleasures, their own worlds. That anonymity was worse, somehow. She felt invisible in a place where sex was currency, her own arousal simmering beneath her skin.
At the bar, Dylan ordered them drinks. Ella perched on the stool, crossing her legs, the hem of her dress slipping just an inch higher. She sipped the chilled wine, the sharp taste grounding her as her gaze drifted across the room over the masked men chatting as a woman danced topless, over a couple disappearing behind a curtain.
Everywhere she looked was sex. Sex in plain sight. Sex as spectacle.
And every glimpse made her stomach tighten and her mind race.
God, what am I doing here?
And why do I want to see more?
Chapter 3 - First Impressions
Ella's wine had barely touched her nerves. Her hands trembled as she set the glass down, fingers brushing the stem like she might drop it.
Around her, the club pulsed with a rhythm that wasn't quite music - a low thrum of bass beneath the chatter, the occasional gasp, the wet sound of flesh on flesh. It seeped into her skin, wrapping around her like the velvet curtains had sealed her inside another world.
She tried not to stare, but her eyes betrayed her. Every corner of the lounge held something new. A woman bent over the arm of a sofa, moaning softly as a suited man fucked her slowly and deliberately, his hand fisted in her hair. Another couple, topless, lounged casually as though they were simply drinking after work - except his hand was buried between her thighs, her head tipped back in pleasure.
Ella swallowed hard. Oh my god... they don't even care who sees.
She shifted on her stool, the hem of her dress inching higher against her thighs. The heat between her legs had been there since they walked in, but now it spread, steady and insistent, an ache she couldn't ignore.
She knew the ache well. It had stirred before - in the club bathroom with a man she barely remembered, in the backseat of a cab with a boy whose name she'd never asked. Little reckless moments she'd never admitted to anyone but her closest friends. But here, in this place, that same ache burned brighter, like it finally belonged.
Dylan leaned close, his lips brushing her ear "You're quiet."
"I'm just... taking it in." Her voice was lower than she meant, husky. She cleared her throat and took another sip. "It's... a lot."
He chuckled. "Exactly what you asked for, though."
She gave a tiny nod, eyes still roaming. That was true. She had asked for this. She'd wanted to know what went on inside a place like this. She just hadn't expected it to feel so intoxicating, so overwhelming.
Her gaze caught on a woman across the room. Tall, elegant, her body sheathed in black lace. She was kneeling in front of two men, their cocks out, one in her mouth while the other stroked himself lazily, waiting for his turn. What struck Ella wasn't the act itself but the look in the woman's eyes: calm, assured, as if she were exactly where she belonged.
Could I ever look like that? Could I ever... do that?
You see, she was no stranger to sex like this. She had had threesomes before. But this was so performative and so open to anyone who felt inclined to watch. Could she ever be this liberated?
The longer they sat, the more the nerves inside her began to melt into something else. A hum of anticipation, a sharp curiosity. She found herself leaning forward, elbows resting on the bar, as though to edge closer to the heat radiating from the room.
Dylan nudged her thigh with his. "So," he said casually, as though asking about the weather. "Do we just watch? Or are you hoping to play?"
Her pulse stumbled. "I don't know." She forced herself to meet his gaze, the blue of her eyes wide, uncertain. "I thought I'd just... see. Maybe nothing."
He smirked knowingly. "Maybe." He let the word hang, heavy.
Ella turned back to the room, wine glass poised beneath her lips, her reflection catching in the ornate mirror behind the bar. Pale skin, red lips, blue eyes, sharp under the smoky makeup. For a moment, she didn't recognise herself.
I don't look like me. I look like... Like one of them.
And just like that, the idea no longer felt impossible.
Chapter 4 - The Approach
Ella was still sipping at her wine when a man took the stool beside her, his presence cutting through the noise of the lounge like a blade. He didn't crowd her, but he didn't need to. Confidence radiated off him in quiet waves.
"First time?" he asked, voice smooth, certain.
She turned, startled. He was handsome in a sharp way, mid-thirties maybe, with eyes that missed nothing. Shirt open at the collar, no tie, sleeves rolled just enough. He looked entirely at home here.
"What makes you say that?" Ella asked carefully.
He smiled faintly. "You're drinking slow, but your eyes are everywhere. Regulars don't stare like that. They already know what they're going to see."
Her cheeks warmed. Dylan, sipping his whiskey at her side, smirked. "She's curious."
The man leaned an elbow on the bar, head tilting toward her. "Curious about what?"
Ella swallowed, stalling. "What do you mean?"
He chuckled low. "Everyone comes here with preferences. Things they want, things they don't. You'll get swept into someone else's if you don't know yours. So...." He let the pause draw tight. "What do you like?"
Her pulse stumbled. She glanced at Dylan, who grinned as though this was all entertainment. Ella's mouth went dry. He's not going to answer for me. He wants me to say it.
"I like..." She twisted her glass, searching for the words. "I like oral. Both ways. I like facials. I like the feeling they give me - slutty, sexy." Her cheeks flushed hot as she forced herself to continue. "I've had threesomes before... I liked them. When they're intense. When they're passionate. The idea of more... maybe. But I don't like anal. Not for me."
The man nodded once, as if taking mental notes, his expression unreadable. It wasn't lust in his eyes but calculation, he was weighing her words, slotting them into possibilities. Sussing her out.
"And what don't you like besides that?" he pressed.
Ella blinked. "I... don't like being ignored. Or... being treated like I'm not there."
That earned her a slow smile. "Good. You won't be ignored here. Not tonight."
Dylan's usual smile faltered briefly, his fingers tightening around his glass. "Told you," he said, voice low, "you're full of surprises!"
His eyes flicked to the regular, a mix of pride and nerves, as if her boldness caught him off guard.
Ella saw the look, and felt somewhat reassured - she wasn't the only one stepping into the unknown.
The man's gaze lingered on Ella, his voice dropping a shade darker. "There's a private room. It's comfortable, perfectly set up for us. Just the three of us. We'll explore what you do like. What do you think?"
Ella blinked, startled by how casually he'd suggested it, as if this kind of invitation happened every weekend. Maybe for him it did. For her, though, it felt surreal, like she'd stepped into some erotic film where her lines were being written for her. A sane part of her brain whispered this was crazy - too much, too fast.
But the stronger and wetter parts wanted to see where it led.
Her chest tightened. Every instinct told her to hesitate - to stall, to laugh it off. But the buzz of arousal humming through her veins drowned it out. She heard her own voice answer, softer than she intended:
"Show me."
The man's smile curved, slow and satisfied, like he'd expected nothing else. He rose smoothly, buttoning his jacket half-heartedly, and held out his hand.
Dylan drained his glass, eyes glinting with something between amusement and hunger. "Well," he drawled, standing, "looks like you got your wish."
Ella slid down from her stool, legs unsteady in her heels, her dress tightening around her thighs as she placed her hand in the stranger's. A shiver raced through her at the contact.
I can't believe I just told him all that.
And now I'm going to let him use it.
Chapter 5 - The Private Room Encounter
The private room was quieter and insulated from the lounge's low thrum. Soft red lights glowed against velvet walls, and a sofa angled toward a wide mirror that reflected every corner of the space. It smelled faintly of leather and something deeper - musk, heat, sex.
Ella stood just inside the doorway, her chest rising fast, eyes flicking between Dylan and the regular. Her fingers fidgeted at her hem before she realised she was already undressing herself without meaning to.
The regular stepped closer, his hand brushing her arm, trailing down until his fingers laced with hers. "Relax," he murmured, eyes fixed on hers. "We'll take our time."
Dylan was already loosening his shirt, smirking as though he'd been waiting for this moment all night. Ella swallowed. She hadn't planned on being the centrepiece of two men, but her body betrayed her, pulse thrumming with anticipation.
The regular's fingers traced her hip, skimming the fabric of her dress. He leaned down, catching her lips with his. The kiss was unhurried, confident, tongue teasing her mouth open until she melted into it. Dylan pressed against her back a moment later, his mouth at her neck, teeth grazing her skin as his hands cupped her breasts through the dress.
Ella whimpered, her body caught between them, heat radiating from every point of contact. God, they're both touching me at once. I can't-
Dylan's grip on her waist tightened, and when she dared glance up, she caught his reflection in the mirror. His jaw clenched, eyes dark with hunger. He wasn't just touching her. He was watching every twitch of her thighs, every gasp, like he was as turned on by seeing her being touched by someone else as he was by touching her himself.
The regular slid the strap of her dress down her shoulder, his lips following the pale skin he exposed. Dylan tugged at the hem, pulling it higher until her hips were bare. They peeled it from her body together, dropping it, where it rested on her hips, leaving her in a simple black thong and heels.
"Beautiful," the regular murmured, his hand smoothing over her ass.
He didn't stop there. They eased her onto the sofa, her dress tugged down so it clung to her waist like a skirt. Both men sat flanking her, hemming her in, their bodies pressing close. Their mouths stole kisses from her shoulders and neck in turn, their hands sliding across her thighs.
Ella gasped as they moved in unison, their palms gliding lower until each man's hand rested on one thigh. Then, with deliberate strength, they parted her legs. She shuddered, exposed, her thong damp against her skin, the wet heat of her arousal impossible to hide.
"Look at her," Dylan murmured, his voice edged with hunger.
The regular's smile was darker now. "Soaked already. You do want this."
Ella tried to protest, but her breath broke into a moan as her thong was tugged aside. The regular dropped to his knees, pushing her thighs wider as his mouth descended on her pussy. His tongue pressed firm to her clit, circling, teasing, then sucking hard enough to make her hips twitch.
She arched back against Dylan, who tilted her face toward him, his lips crashing into hers. The kiss was greedy, claiming, his tongue filling her mouth while the regular worked between her legs.
Then Dylan shifted her, urging her forward onto her hands and knees across the sofa cushions. Before she could catch her breath, his mouth pressed to her ass, tongue flicking, licking, spreading her apart as the regular's mouth stayed buried in her pussy.
The dual sensation made her cry out, clawing at the cushions. "Oh my god-"
Two tongues worked her at once, one flicking her clit, the other stroking her rim, licking deep, relentless. The regular slipped a finger inside her, curling expertly while Dylan groaned into her ass, his tongue driving firmer, hungrier.
Her body seized. Pleasure ripped through her, thighs trembling, every nerve alight as they held her open and licked her until she came hard, spilling onto the regular's mouth with a helpless cry.
When they finally pulled back, she collapsed onto the sofa, shaking, breathless.
The regular rose smoothly, cock already hard and heavy in his hand. Dylan stripped his shirt away, doing the same, his eyes locked hungrily on her wrecked, panting body.
Ella blinked up at them, dazed, mascara already smudged. Two cocks loomed above her, as felt her mouth fill with saliva.
The regular stroked himself once, precum glistening at the tip, his composure finally faltering. "Fuck... on your knees," he muttered, his voice lower, rougher than before.
Ella slid onto her knees, dress gathered at her waist, hair tumoring loose from its careful up-do. Her lipstick was already blurred from kissing, her chest still rising and falling with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
The regular stepped closer, stroking his cock lazily, holding it just within reach. Dylan joined him, his cock thick and stiff, precum glistening at the tip. Two men, two cocks, right there in front of her.
Her lips parted instinctively, a string of spit developing and snapping as her mouth opened wider.
She reached for Dylan first, wrapping her fingers around the base of his shaft and leaning in to kiss the head softly, tasting the salt of him on her tongue. Her other hand moved to the regular, stroking him slowly, her grip deliberate and teasing as she alternated her mouth between the two.
When she switched, sliding her lips over the regular's cock, Dylan let out a low groan as her hand stroked him instead. She worked them rhythmically, her mouth full and wet, her hand twisting, her spit dripping freely onto her breasts as she let herself enjoy the act.
"Beautiful," the regular murmured, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand as she sucked him slowly.
Ella moaned around him, the sound soft and wanting, vibrating down his length. She pulled back with a wet gasp, licking her lips as her hand swapped back to Dylan. Her blue eyes flicked up at them both, nervous but undeniably aroused.
The regular smirked down at her, calm and coaxing. "Want to try both at once?"
His hand twitched at her hair, tighter than he meant, betraying his calm. "You're even better than I thought you'd be," he murmured, almost to himself.
Ella hesitated, her lips parting. "I don't think they'll fit."
"They will," he murmured, his tone soft but certain. "Just a little. You'll like it."
Her body trembled, but the heat between her legs betrayed her. Slowly, she opened wider, letting Dylan guide himself back onto her tongue as the regular pressed close, the two cocks brushing together at her lips.
The stretch surprised her at first - the fullness of it, the way her jaw resisted before giving out to them. She moaned softly, her hand braced on Dylan's thigh as she took them both just inside, her tongue sliding between them, swirling, teasing.
The regular groaned, his hand threading through her auburn hair. "Fuck... look at her. Gorgeous."
It wasn't rough, it wasn't forceful. They let her set the rhythm, easing them in and out, her lips stretched, saliva slicking her chin as she worked them with slow, careful movements. Each time she pulled back, her tongue flicked over their tips, tasting them both, her breathing ragged with arousal.
God... I can do this. I love this.
Her thighs pressed together unconsciously as she grew wetter, her own moans louder with every pass of their cocks between her lips. It wasn't just about taking them - it was about pleasing them both, being the centre of their heat and hunger at the same time.
When they finally eased her up, her lips swollen and glistening, Dylan bent her gently over the sofa. He pulled her thong down her thighs, and then over her knees, sliding it off and throwing it aside. His cock slid easily into her soaked pussy with a slow, deep thrust that made her gasp.
Ella's hands clutched the backrest, her reflection staring back at her from the mirror - mouth open, eyes glassy, her body taking every inch. The regular stepped in front of her again, his cock brushing her lips, and she welcomed him back into her mouth with a needy moan.
Now it was seamless: Dylan rocking into her from behind, steady and sensual, while she sucked the regular in front of her with wet, eager lips, stroking the rest of his shaft with her hand.
She let herself sink into it, her body a conduit of pure pleasure - filled, stroked, savoured, every sound and sigh hers to give them.
Chapter 6 - The Audience
The sofa creaked beneath them. Dylan's hips moved in a steady rhythm, his cock driving into Ella's soaked pussy from behind. In front of her, the regular guided himself into her mouth again, groaning softly as she stroked the rest of his shaft with her hand, spit running down her chin.
The regular slid out of her, his cock wet with her arousal, and for a moment, Ella gasped at the sudden emptiness. Dylan stepped forward, his cock pressing against her lips, and she opened for him without hesitation, tasting herself as he slid into her mouth. At the same time, the regular moved behind her, pushing into her pussy with one long, steady thrust that made her moan around Dylan's length.
The swap made her dizzy - the new rhythm, the new angle, the sudden change of taste and stretch.
But before that, there was a brief moment of emptiness - for the first time all night, she wasn't completely filled at both ends. There was a fraction of space, a breath of clarity. And that's when she saw them.
At first, she thought it was the mirror playing tricks - shadows, distortions, the haze of the moody light. Her brain scrambled for logic: maybe waitstaff, maybe other guests passing by. But then she blinked, focusing past her own reflection, and the truth clicked into place. Her head spun.
Five men were standing in the doorway. Watching.
Each of them older than Dylan, older than the regular. Mid-thirties, early forties, late forties, even one with striking silver hair and a neatly kept beard, maybe fifty-two, fifty-three. All of them stroking their cocks, silent, intent, their eyes locked on her as though she were theirs to consume, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
Ella's heart thundered - part disbelief, part arousal. She knew this wasn't ordinary, that no "first time" at a sex club went like this. But her body betrayed her, trembling with a hunger she couldn't explain away
Dylan had already seen them. He already knew they were there, but he chose to wait. Not to comment until he knew Ella had spotted them.
"Looks like you've got an audience," he murmured, his tone more turned on than surprised, as he locked eyes with Ella when she glanced back at him. "You good with that?"
The regular smiled, almost knowingly, as if he had an idea this would happen.
Ella's breath stuttered, but she murmured. "Mmhmm."
A shiver ran through her body, her thighs trembling against the regular's steady thrusts. For a split second, she froze, but before she could gather her thoughts, she felt the regular slide inside her from behind, and she opened her mouth, engulfing Dylan's cock.
Her mind was screaming; What the fuck is happening? Shock prickled through her chest, almost enough to pull her out of it. Almost. Then the intense arousal rushed back in, stronger, heavier, dizzying. Oh god. They're actually watching me.
In all this, she lost focus. She seemed to zone out a little. The regular's hand slid into her hair, steady but not cruel, tilting her face back up toward him, away from Dylan's hard cock, which made a subtle popping sound as it slid out of her mouth.
The regular's voice was calm and coaxing, as he sensed her attention slipping.
"Stay with us," he whispered, eyes heavy on hers. "Focus. Right here. Good girl."
Ella moaned softly, turning her head forward, taking Dylan into her mouth again and forcing herself back into the moment. The regular's cock drove inside her from behind, Dylan's shaft filling her mouth, both men groaning above her as her body surrendered.
But she couldn't unsee them. While every thrust pushed her forward into Dylan's cock, every pull dragged her gaze back to the doorway. Five men. Silent. Watching. Stroking themselves with a calmness that made her stomach twist. For a heartbeat, she thought she should be horrified - after all, she was bare, messy, used and totally on display. But the thought evaporated as quickly as it came. Heat flooded her instead.
Of course they're watching. Of course they want to see me like this. A dizzy laugh almost bubbled in her throat as she swallowed Dylan deeper. Because maybe I am that kind of girl.
She looked away and tried to focus on Dylan in her mouth, on the regular filling her from behind, but her eyes kept darting back. To them. To the sight of five men pleasuring themselves at the sight of her.
Her reflection in the mirror glared back at her: auburn hair loose, red lips swollen, her body caught between two men. And behind it, five silent figures, stroking themselves to the sight of her.
A tremor of heat coursed through her, her moans louder now, not in words, not in thought - just raw sound.
Chapter 7 - The first of two finales
Dylan groaned above her, his grip tightening in her hair as her lips slid over his cock again and again. Behind her, the regular's thrusts grew sharper, his groans rougher, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks.
Ella's body was alight, her clit throbbing under the pressure of her own fingers, her pussy clenching desperately around the regular's cock. She whimpered around Dylan, her moans muffled and slick.
She knew what was coming next. She was experienced enough to know they were both getting close.
Suddenly, Dylan pulled free with a gasp, his cock glistening as he stroked it hard in front of her face. The sudden emptiness made her cry out, but before she could adjust, the regular dragged himself out of her too, his cock wet and heavy in his fist.
They stood over her now, and almost instinctively, Ella sank onto her knees on the carpet, her messy hair falling loose around her flushed face.
Her chest heaved, her blue eyes wide and waiting as she tilted her chin up to them. One hand stayed pressed between her thighs, rubbing her clit desperately as the other steadied her against the sofa.
A flash of déjà vu hit her - flashes of other nights, other rooms, when she'd been on her knees for different men, pleasuring strangers she'd only just met, taking their cum on her face and wearing it with a slutty pride. She'd always loved the feel of it, the idea of a man physically painting her with the pleasure she had given him. How erotic it was, how dirty and sexy it made her feel. How it made her feel desired. But she'd never considered going this far. Never considered displaying this intimate, explicit pleasure in front of a group of random strangers.
"Please," she whispered, her voice ragged, breathless, a desperation in her eyes. "Do it. Cum all over my face, please."
Dylan groaned, his cock jerking in his hand. The first burst splattered across her cheek with a wet slap, hot enough to sting against her pale skin, before another struck her lips, heavy and thick. She gasped as the heat slid down her chin in a sticky trail, her fingers working harder over her clit.
"Fuck yes," she moaned, eyes snapping up to his. "Give it to me. Please"
The regular grunted, his own hand pumping quickly. His cock erupted in thick, heavy streams, painting her other cheek, across her forehead, dripping into her hair.
Ella whimpered, eyes closing as she let the heat splash her face from both cocks - from both sides. Her thighs shook, her fingers frantic on her clit as her tongue darted out to lick the taste of their cum off her lips.
"More," she gasped, out of breath, her voice breaking as her hips bucked against her own hand. "Don't stop! Please..."
Dylan's last spurt hit across her nose, sliding into her open mouth. The regular's final rope streaked her lashes, forcing her to blink through the blur. Both men groaned as they milked the last drops onto her face before stepping aside.
Now her reflection in the mirror was obscene - kneeling, her face glistening and dripping in hot white streaks, one cheek painted, lips glazed, hair streaked, eyes half-blinded. Her own hand still rubbed frantically at her clit as she moaned through it, messy and euphoric.
Behind that reflection stood those five men, no longer just watching idly. Ella now had a clear view of them, as they did of her. Their fists moved faster now, cocks slick, their breathing heavy, eyes fixed hungrily on the sight of her pleasuring herself with two men's cum dripping down her face.
Her chest rose and fell in quick, desperate gasps, a smile flickering faintly across her messy, wet lips as she rubbed her clit faster, the taste of Dylan still fresh on her tongue.
They saw me beg for it.
They saw me take it.
Chapter 8 -The Invitation
Ella stayed kneeling on the carpet, her chest rising in quick, shaky bursts, her hand resting uselessly between her trembling thighs. Her face was dripping. Hot, sticky streaks slid down her cheeks, gathering at her chin, smearing across her lips and hairline. She could barely blink through the blur of cum on her lashes.
She was a mess. And yet she was smiling.
Her lips trembled as she licked the corner of her mouth, tasting the salt of Dylan's release mixed with the regular's, her tongue darting out for more like she couldn't help herself. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her skin flushed down to her chest.
Exhausted. Exhilarated. Aroused.
She glanced up into the mirror and, seeing the men still standing there, she slowly, deliberately, and seductively turned to face them.
There they were, facing her head-on for the first time. Standing in the shadows, stroking themselves harder now. Older, broader, stronger. All of them were watching her intently, their cocks glistening in their fists. The silver fox's gaze met hers again, unblinking, steady, his hand moving slowly over the thickness of his shaft.
Ella's breath caught, her body trembling with the weight of their gazes. I shouldn't want this, she thought, but the ache between her thighs screamed otherwise. She'd always loved being seen, desired, but this-this was raw, untamed. Before she could stop herself, she tilted her head back, lips parting as she whispered;
"Are you guys... gonna cum on my face too, or what?"
Her voice shook, but her smile was defiant, daring them to match her hunger.
The room went still for a beat, the air charged with its weight. Ella's eyes widened, her own voice ringing in her ears. Did I really just say that? Out loud?
But she was smiling now - helpless, incredulous, giddy with adrenaline and arousal. Cum dripped from her chin as she tilted her head back a little more, lips parted, cheeks streaked, her blue eyes glassy but alight with heat.
The silver fox was the first to move. He stepped forward out of the doorway, his cock glistening in his hand, eyes never leaving hers. And behind him, the others followed.
Five men. Silent. Hard. Closing in on her.
Chapter 9 - The final finale
The air was thick, heavy, humming with nothing but breath and the slick sound of fists stroking cocks. Ella stayed kneeling, back straight, thighs trembling, her face already a canvas of cum from Dylan and the regular. Her chest rose in quick, shallow bursts, one hand rubbing her clit furiously as she stared up at the five older men stepping closer.
For a moment, her mind flickered with disbelief. Just an hour ago, she'd been fixing her lipstick in the mirror, a nervous girl in a fitted black dress. Now she was on her knees, ruined and dripping, offering herself up to strangers. The realisation didn't horrify her - it thrilled her. Every drop already on her skin was proof of how far she had fallen... or how far she had risen. She wasn't just Ella anymore. She was someone else: shameless, insatiable, transformed.
Not one of them spoke.
The silence was worse - or hotter - than words could have been. Just the sound of skin slicking under their fists, their steady breathing, the low creak of the floor as they closed in on her.
Ella's mind reeled. If someone had told her a week ago that she'd be kneeling in front of seven men, begging to be covered in their cum, she would have laughed in their face. But the club had swallowed her whole, stripping away the part of her that worried about what was normal. In this room, tonight, with their eyes locked on her, this madness made sense.
Her pulse hammered. She let her fingers slip deeper between her legs, moaning as she worked her clit faster. Then, deliberately, she brought her wet fingers up to her lips.
Locking eyes with the silver fox first, then the others, Ella sucked them slowly into her mouth, licking her arousal from her skin with a soft moan. She pulled them glistening free and smiled up at them, breathless, her blue eyes shining.
"Come on..." she whispered, voice husky, lips glistening as she dragged her fingers back down between her thighs.
The silver fox moved first. He loomed over her, his cock thick and pulsing in his hand, precum already beading at the tip. Ella tilted her chin, eyes wide, lips parted, still rubbing her clit furiously as she waited for him.
When his orgasm broke, it was ferocious.
The first spurt lashed across her cheekbone, thick and heavy, shocking her with its force. Another followed, painting her forehead, sliding warm and wet into her auburn hair. A third burst hit her lips, spilling down her chin before she could lick it desperately onto her tongue. The sheer volume made her gasp, then laugh shakily, almost disbelieving. With every rope that struck her face, she felt less like a nervous girl in a dress and more like a goddess being anointed, worshipped in the only language these men knew. Her fingers blurred on her clit, her moans higher, the flood across her skin marking her transformation as much as it pleasured her.
By the time he staggered back, her cheek and forehead were slick, streaks already cooling into a clammy chill as fresh ones still ran hot. Cum clung to her lashes in heavy clumps, dragging them down until she blinked through a blur, trails sliding thickly to her chest.
The broad, barrel-chested man stepped up next, pumping his thick shaft hard, his jaw clenched as he groaned low in his chest. Ella tilted her face up toward him, giggling softly through her ragged breath, cum already dripping steadily down her chin.
The first spurt landed with an audible splat, so heavy it made her head jolt back slightly. Warmth spread instantly across her lips, only to be chased seconds later by a cooler line from the man before, sliding down and mixing into a sticky mess along her jaw. She moaned at the contrast - hot and cool, fresh and stale, all coating her.
Another burst landed across her cheek and down into her jawline. More followed, heavy ropes across her nose, her hairline, even streaking into her lashes until she was blinking through a curtain of white.
It wouldn't stop. He kept pumping, rope after rope, each one landing thick and heavy, until Ella's entire mouth, cheeks, and neck were streaming with his cum. Cum dripped from her chin to her breasts in long, wet strings, pooling in the valley of her cleavage.
She looked down at the sticky mess coating her chest, strands sliding between her breasts, and something inside her cracked open. She had wanted to be wanted, but this was more than that. This was surrender, spectacle, rebirth. She was shaking, half from overstimulation and half from the intoxicating knowledge that she had become the centre of their world. Every groan, every spurt, every greedy stroke of their fists revolved around her.
She moaned louder, her hand a blur at her clit, the obscene volume of it making her shudder as she rubbed herself harder. She giggled again, delirious, sticky strands swinging from her jaw as she tried to lick her lips.
Then two of them moved forward together.
Ella blinked up at them, her vision blurred with cum. Two cocks, side by side, both pumping fast, their hands slick with precum. She whimpered, half-laughed, rubbing her clit frantically as she tilted her face up for them both.
They came almost simultaneously.
One spurted across her jaw and neck, so thick it ran down in sheets, while the other burst across her forehead, his load spraying so high it streaked through her auburn hair. She squealed through a moan, giggling helplessly, as more jets hit her cheeks, nose, and lips. It was endless - both men pumping out torrents, cum pouring down her in so much volume she could barely keep her eyes open.
Her entire face was drenched, white rivulets streaming over her cheeks, dripping from her chin into her cleavage. She laughed breathlessly between moans, half-hysterical, half-ecstatic. It wasn't just being drowned in it - it was realising she loved it. She had never felt more seen, more utterly consumed, than in this moment of ruin.
Each streak across her skin made her shiver harder, the heat spreading through her chest as her body trembled with pleasure. The wet heaviness on her lashes, the stickiness sliding down her cheeks, the shine on her lips - it all left her feeling wild, exhilarated and impossibly sexy. She had never felt more alive, more beautiful, than she did dripping and gasping like this.
She had always loved facials. They'd always made her feel this way, ever since her first boyfriend cheekily gave her one years ago. But this? This was something else. This was like that normal feeling amplified by a thousand. And it wasn't quite over yet.
When they staggered back, she was almost blind, her lashes clumped together, cum running from her brow to her throat. She rubbed her clit desperately, whimpering, lost in the sheer filth of it.
And then the final man stepped forward.
Dark-haired, late forties, his cock thick in his hand, his strokes fast and urgent. He was already leaking heavily, his tip glossy, his eyes fixed on her ruined face. Ella tilted her head, smiling deliriously, giggling through her heavy breaths as she worked her clit like her life depended on it.
His orgasm broke in a torrent. The first spurt landed across her lips, so much that it spilt over instantly, running down her chin in thick ropes. She moaned and licked greedily, only for the next jet to splatter her cheek and nose. Another erupted across her forehead, streaking into her hair and dripping into her eyes. He groaned, stroking harder, ropes falling across her face, throat, chest, until she was gasping and trembling under the sheer weight of it.
Her hand on her clit finally pushed her past the point of no return.
The orgasm ripped through her like nothing she had ever felt. She cried out, raw and feral, her body convulsing as cum streamed over her face in fresh torrents. Her mouth opened wide, tongue desperate to taste more even as her eyes fluttered half-shut beneath the blur. She wasn't just climaxing - she was surrendering to the filth, to the spectacle, to the fact that seven men had used her face as their release. She laughed through it, delirious, knowing she would never be the same after this.
By the end, she was unrecognisable. Kneeling, shaking, her face buried beneath layers of hot, sticky white, hair plastered flat to her skin, her mouth open in a breathless, trembling smile.
She had never been more drenched.
For a long moment, nothing moved.
Ella stayed on her knees, trembling, her body wrecked from orgasm, her skin slick with the dripping evidence of seven men. Cum ran in fat rivulets down her cheeks, dripping from her chin in sticky strands onto her chest. Trails slid into the valley of her breasts, more streaks cooling on her forehead and in her hair. She blinked through the blur on her lashes, half-blind, laughing softly through her shallow, shaky breaths.
Her hand finally stilled between her thighs, her clit too sensitive to touch, her hips twitching with aftershocks. She licked her lips instinctively, tasting the salt of them again, moaning faintly at the flavour.
A hot strand slid from her chin to her breast, dripping onto the carpet between her knees with a wet splat. Ella giggled breathlessly at the sound, shaking her head in disbelief. I can't believe what I've just done.
Her body twitched with another aftershock, thighs quivering as more cum dripped steadily down her chest. She was ruined, drenched, glowing.
And she stayed like that - just letting herself exist in the mess, until Dylan moved toward her.
Chapter 10 - The Aftermath
Dylan bent down, gently taking Ella under the arms, helping her off the carpet. She wobbled unsteadily, barefoot, her toes sticky against the floor. Her dress hung low, straps slipped from her shoulders, the top bunched at her waist, the hem rucked high - more like a crumpled, cum-splattered belt than a dress now. Her pale skin was bare, exposed, her body glistening with streaks and smears.
She leaned into him, trembling, cum still dripping from her chin and breasts.
"Come on," Dylan muttered softly, his voice ragged, half in awe. "You've got to see this."
He guided her to the mirror that dominated the far wall, one steadying arm around her waist. Ella blinked through the blur on her lashes, then used both hands to scoop away the cum clinging to her eyes, smearing it across her cheeks just so she could see.
And when she did, she gasped.
Her reflection stared back at her like a stranger. Her pale skin was almost entirely hidden beneath streaks and layers of white, dripping and glistening in the amber light. Thick ropes matted her auburn hair to her forehead, smeared down her cheeks, dripped off her chin in long strands. Her lips were swollen, shiny, glazed with it; her blue eyes wide and wild, mascara streaked. Cum pooled between her breasts, trails sliding down her stomach, sticky strings clinging to her thighs. The remains of her "dress" framed it all, a useless strip of fabric clinging low around her hips, itself streaked with mess.
"Oh my god..." she whispered, her voice shaking. She lifted a hand to her mouth, fingertips trembling as they touched the mess smeared across her lips.
Dylan shook his head slowly beside her, his chest still rising hard. "That..." He swallowed, eyes fixed on her ruined reflection. "That was fucking insane. Crazy. But-" He let out a sharp laugh, disbelieving. "-the hottest thing I've seen in my life."
He raked a hand through his hair, still holding her against his side. "I thought I knew what kind of slut you were," he muttered, voice rough, "but this? This is... something else," He trailed off, staring at her reflection like he was in awe.
Ella giggled softly, delirious and exhausted, shaking her head in disbelief as another strand of cum slipped from her jaw onto her chest.
A voice came from behind them, smooth and calm.
"That's why this room exists."
They both turned. The regular was leaning casually against the wall, still half-dressed, his shirt open, his cock tucked away now. His eyes lingered on Ella's dripping body, then met hers in the mirror.
"This is the bukkake room", he said, his tone soft, almost reverent, as his eyes lingered on her reflection. "I saw it in you the moment we met- this hunger in you, maybe you didn't know it was there."
Ella's lips parted, a soft, disbelieving laugh escaping her throat. "You... knew?"
He smirked faintly, eyes glinting. "I wanted to see how far you'd go." He let the words hang in the air, heavy, deliberate, before muttering one last line and walking away: "And you didn't disappoint"
Ella shook her head faintly, still staring at herself in the mirror. "I can't believe I just did that," she whispered, half to Dylan and half to herself. A shaky laugh escaped her lips. "That doesn't happen to people like me." And yet the cum dripping from her chin and lashes told a different story - it had happened, and she had loved every second.
He was right. She hadn't disappointed.
Do you like this story? If you do, you may be interested to know that the
author also has several other stories on the site that are available
to the members of the EroticStories.com FanClub!
Click here to read more about the FanClub.
Request from webmaster Art:
Don't forget to vote for this story in the yellow voting box below!
Authors really appreciate the votes and it only takes a few seconds!
Options: Plain text or
PDF (
fanclub only!) version for easy saving or printing
ESmail: Click here to send a private message to Ella Grace (with ESmail, the site's internal message system)
Profile for Ella Grace, incl. 3 stories
Email: ellagracepixie@gmail.com
Add this author to your favorite author list
Add this story to your favorite story list