Fire and Ice

[Gangsta Moll Deactivated]

Being noticed

I love this place: have done since first I came here, years back, as a young keen new researcher on her first field trip. A place of ice and fire: of storms and stillness; of surreal splendour and sulphurous stench. Hell is here, a few miles up the track: Viti, they call it - which means Hell - because in ancient times they thought hell was beneath the fires; and who can blame them, the boiling mud and the plumes of steam, the stink of sulphur and the treacherous yielding of the pumice crust do indeed make a hellscape. But Viti has a calm green pool at its centre now - the calm at the centre of the storm, perhaps - and that cool calm laying so still over the roiling heat that churns below sort of sums up the lure of this place. Contrast, tension, hot and cold, storm and calm, change and unpredictability. They say if you don't like the weather here, wait five minutes and it will change: which is true. Just as the American and Eurasian tectonic plates clash and grind under us, here, so the Atlantic ocean weather fronts clash with the continental, and sometimes as now the Arctic shoves its way between them in an unending series of battles that are never won but settle into gentle but uneasy truce that can be breached at the slightest provocation.

Which is why we are stuck here.

A series of storms: three, one for each of Atlantic, Arctic and Eurasia, smashing into each other, a series of ferocious swirls of wind and snow and hail. Our flights out are cancelled: down in the south east corner they have ot worse than here inland. One storm down, two to go: the snow piled high against the windward side of our little bunk house, wind still screaming over the slope of the turfed roof, this lull between storms could be classed as a gale in another land. We are safe: the equipment stacked, the van tucked into its own little shelter, ready for when the storms pass, the house has withstood this and far far worse over its long years. We are comfortable too: being perched above molten magma does have the advantage of plentiful geothermal heat: even too much - it's not exactly fine tuned - either off or on - and on is definitely essential even though it is a bit 'cosy'.

So we are stuck, but safe.

'We' in this case is us: our little team sent to pack up the laser array and its supporting equipment = its job is done, the little flurry of steam and plumes and lava flows ended, the seismic grunts and groans quieted. I am Sarah G: the weak link, but also the essential cargo - the one who knows how to do the last calibration, how to supervise the stowing of the equipment, the storage of the last data sets - a slight, petite, middle aged woman who does her part, joins in with the hard work of lugging crates and shovelling snow and fetching and carrying: but whose physical work in reality the men could do with one hand without breaking a sweat. Sarah G: often just G - the initial of my surname, but here awarded as 'Gangsta' - one of the gang, but ironic in that I am as far from a gangsta as one might imagine. They all have nicknames, mostly ironic but with a hint of truth: to have my own is a matter of pride and makes me feel I belong. But being 'one of the guys' has its down side. It is mostly guys, this work: it's hard work, heavy lifting, brute force and sometimes brutal - I am used to being the only woman. As often happens, I am also the only civilian: always an interesting situation because I am automatically owed, and accorded, respect and deference: the men are here to support me, to keep me safe, it's their job. But I am a woman, and I notice that they don't see me as one: I am 'G' - one of the guys - and yes that makes life easier, but just sometimes I wish they might see me as a woman - even just to flirt, to make me feel .. visible ... interesting... Of course I am far too sensible, far too cautious - and far too timid - to do other than play along with my role.

I've always loved storms.

The wild primal force of nature, untrammelled, irresistible: terrifying and beautiful, raw awesome power. Every storm takes me back to my first sexual experience - to my first fucking - on my back, the rain lashing down at my face, total darkness ripped again and again by blinding flashes of lightning, thunder crashing and rolling like the rhythm accompaniment to the waves of orgasm that washed through me as the boy heaved and groaned, above me and in me.

Storms make me horny.

Which is awkward: because here I am with three fit, fun, funny men, and my mind is racing with images of naked writhing, frantic fucking, screaming orgasms, and I am being 'just one of the guys' and they are treating me as such.

Sometimes I think I like storms because they are how I would like to be: free and wild, untrammelled, uncontrollable - irresistible. Especially irresistible: which, right now, I very definitely am not.

I am so unlike a storm it is laughable: cool, calm, collected, capable Sarah G: quiet, unassuming - unexciting - just one of the guys.

There it is again - that thought, that I have so often in situations like this - the warm nice feeling of being accepted, part of the team, one of us: and the hot slow burning desire, need, to be taken as a woman - to be seen as sexual, desirable ... fuckable ...

The guys have played cards, waiting it out - two days so far and forecast to be several more until flights resume and we can shovel the snow from the drive and slide the van down its icy slope to the road. Rummy, poker, whist - even a desperate and hilarious few games of 'Snap!'. I have joined in, on and off: I'm good at poker, apparently, because my face doesn't show my hand - probably because throughout the games I was thinking back to my one and only game of strip poker and trying very hard not to let my horny thoughts show. But now the cards are tidied away and we've talked quietly, about this and that - funny stories, shocking ones, shared details of friends and family back home.

It's hot, and I feel sweaty and grubby. The shower is tiny - a little room squeezed in at the end of the narrow corridor between the bunk rooms. Its water is steaming hot, though, and plentiful - washing over me, flowing on my bare skin, tracing rivulets down my shoulders, flooding noisily off the gentle slope of my breasts, tickling down my buttocks, a warm soft liquid caress that touches every part of me, sensual and .. yes, and sexual.... And sulphurous.... as is all the hot water here, sulphur, like eggs, everywhere, so pervasive that one gets used to it, doesn't notice - until you run the hot water and it is like the hot sulphur of hell.. after a shower one smells like a demon, but nobody notices because we all do.

A demon would be ... interesting ... a sexy demon ... or I could be a demoness ... a succubus, is that what they are called? A female demon, sulphurous and hot, irresistible....

These thoughts are not helping: my nipples stand pert and stiff like little signals that say "Fuck me, please!". My face feels flushed with more than the heat of the water.

The wind has dropped: with the shower turned off, the drip of the last drops sounds loud in the silence.

I am hot: hot with more than the warmth of the water - hot with ... need .. desire ....

Fire and ice: the cool surface, and under the surface the roiling heat - irresistible...

I shut down these thoughts: smother the glowing embers of sexuality.

I am one of the guys, part of a team: don't rock the boat.

The towel covers me decently, though only just: tucked neatly and securely above the gentle upper swell of my breasts, skimming neatly across my upper thighs. My short hair is plastered, damp, across my forehead. The men are silent. Barefoot, I tread past the door to my own room, step put of the short corridor into the open main room.

The men are silent;

standing;

staring.

I reach with one finger to smooth back a wayward lock of hair from my forehead: loosing my grip on the towel as I do so. The towel is secure, held under my arms and tucked in a neat fold: it moves only very slightly - almost imperceptibly.

The men notice.

[Gangsta Moll Deactivated]

Dave

I'm not sure when it changed.

I've worked with Sarah G before: she's nice - careful and helpful, always ready to muck in, highly competent at her technical tasks. Cute, too, in an ordinary sort of way: sort of tomboyish. It can't be easy being the woman around us guys, but she fits in, holds her own. Hard to read though: 'aloof' isn't quite the word: maybe cautious, reserved, careful - fun and funny but deflects any nonsense with a joke or a laugh, as if she hasn't even noticed it. Guys will be guys, and despite all our 'professionalism' any woman in our midst is a target for banter and flirting: but she stays above it, out of it, as if it isn't being said, and so it doesn't get said, much.

I admit I have a bit of a 'thing' for her. The others joke, speculate - wonder aloud what she'd be like in bed, how she looks naked, whether she'd be 'up for it' - but I do really like her. I would say as a friend, but that wouldn't be honest: I think she's got hidden depths: and I'd like to explore them.

This time has been different. Usually on these trips we are like roadies on one night gigs: hustle and hard work, lugging the kit about, fighting the weather this hellish place throws at us, so that we sleep like pigs and then pack up the next day or the day after - no time to talk, just banter and jokes and complaining. The storms hit unexpectedly, and we have been here two days now, stuck inside with really nothing to do. There's only so much fun can be had from one pack of cards, and to be honest my team mates don't go big on deep meaningful conversation.

I think it was the cards when it changed, now I think on it. Poker. Mark joked that she was good at it because she kept a straight face, but it was more like she was dreamy - elsewhere, thinking about something else - her cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes big and dark, unfocused. You could look at her - stare right at her - without her noticing: and I did, and I caught the others doing so too. Really looking, like you look at a girl you fancy at a bar or party, sizing her up, undressing her with your eyes: except Sarah wasn't looking back, wasn't playing up to it.

When she just got up and announced she was taking a shower it was like someone flipped a switch: a horny switch, so that us three sex-starved guys all shared the same thought, didn't even need to voice it. The wind dropped just about the moment we heard the shower door click shut: and I swear you could hear from the way the water sounded just exactly what she was doing - the moment she raised her arms to let the water flow down her body; when she turned, when she stooped, when she tilted her head back, when she soaped her body. Like an invisible strip show, created from sound.

It was Mark who voiced it: "fuck..." but that was all that was said: we just listened - and imagined - in a sort of silent shared imagining.

I don't know why I did it - well I do but I don't know what reckless thought made me think to actually do it - but when the water shut off I just wanted - needed - to see her. I knew she'd be wrapped in her towel - it's cramped here, we're not prissy, I've seen her like that, glimpsed, down the corridor, as she steps into her room. I knew she'd be wrapped in it, tucked tight into it, flushed and damp. I only wanted to catch a glimpse. I guess the others did too, because I heard them behind me.

She did look cute. Decent, in that the towel covered everything: and hot as hell because that only made you want to see what it hid.

But she didn't duck into her room. Seemed almost in a daze, dreamy, like she had been during the poker game. Stepped right out of the corridor: didn't even seem surprised to find three guys clustered there, just walked right out: I was going to say 'bold as brass' but there wasn't anything bold or brassy about it - just this cute quiet woman, in a towel, standing there.

When she lifted a hand to brush at her hair, the towel slipped: not much, but just that narrow slice of breast revealed was enough to make me - and the guys, I'm sure - want more: much more.

She is so close: right there, right in front of me. I could just lift my hand, and touch her.

I do.

[Gangsta Moll Deactivated]

Mark

It's my fault for making fun of Dave like that, but it was just too easy.

I mean, she's at least ten years his senior but his big sad puppy dog eyes make him look like a lovesick teenager with a crush on the teacher. Fussing over her all the time: all "yes, ma'am" and "of course, ma'am" - and her totally, utterly, oblivious which only seems to make him fawn over her more.

And it's so funny teasing him: casually saying how fuckable she is, how hard I'd do it to her - and he goes all shy and pretends he isn't thinking the exact same thing but his eyes and his flushed face say otherwise: we're all cooped up together for days now and it's like the one distraction that would make this real fun is right here with us and probably gagging for it too but no-one is allowed to say it.

The poker game was priceless, though: when she gets that far-away look you can read anything into it - and I do, and so does Dave. I mean he was lucky she was so distant because he was literally stripping her naked with his eyes: even when Rich and I started winking at him he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. But either she is too professional to let it slip or she really doesn't notice, because it just all glances off her like water off a duck's back.

Then she just gets up and goes off 'to take a shower': fuck, I got a hard-on so big that it ached. I mean, fuck yes, that's just what we need - I mean, yes the images it conjures up are hot but fuck it's frustrating. And I bet she's good at it - the quiet ones always are. She may not be a looker and Dave may be a lovesick overgrown teen but I've got ten years on her and I'll take plain and a good fuck any day. I'd give it to her so deep and so hard, fuck yes. In my day we didn't have women in the team: yeah we obsessed about it all the time but they just weren't there so you couldn't get in trouble. Now we do and it's worse because you have to be so professional and respectful and careful but when you're living in close quarters every sight, every accidental touch, every brushing by, makes you ache for it.

I'm too slow to stop him: he's up and at the corridor to the shower before I can react. I've seen him glancing down there when she showers - trying to catch a sideways glimpse of her wrapper up in her towel - but fuck, man, have some sense, a casual glance is one thing but fucking ogling is another. A joke is a joke and fancying someone is one thing but what we don't need now is a peeping tom accusation. Look, yeah - joke a bit, imagine a little, fine - but cross the line and it's your career - his career, and mine - on the line. These are modern days.

But it's too late. And oh fuck she's in the room - I mean my hard-on was aching already but now it actively hurts - just need to rip that towel off that cute little naked body but for fuck's sake Dave, don't touch her: have some sense man.

And then he goes and does it. 

[Gangsta Moll Deactivated]

Richard

I swear she does it deliberately: all her: "I'm so demure butter wouldn't melt in my mouth" false innocence is just a shameless tease.

I mean, sure she is nice but for fuck's sake she doesn't have to do that casual briefest glimpse of a bit of skin thing and then act all pure and innocent as if she doesn't know she's doing it.

If it wasn't for rules and protocol I'd give her a going over she wouldn't forget in a hurry - and I'd enjoy it too, taught little body would be fun to use... but fuck it, we can't and she won't so oit's all just a gigantic painful tease.

I suppose that's why I gave Dave such a hard time - literally, his pants were tented like a wigwam - because I couldn't - can't - get back at her.

Then she goes and does her: "ooh boys, I'm just announcing that I am going to go get naked and stand for ages wet and warm and .." act again.

And we can hear her, and I can almost feel the atmosphere - every one of us wants to do it - to pull the shower door open and stand and watch. Hell, not just to watch - to grab that cute little naked wet body and drag her onto the floor and fuck the little cute bitch's brains out. I am hard as a rock: and for fuck's sake so is Dave, the big oaf - what the fuck does he think he's doing, I mean thinking it is one thing but for one moment I think the fool is going to go down the corridor and have her. But he doesn't. But she does - she comes out, right out into the room. The towel covers everything and nothing - almost makes her more naked than if she was naked - and I think my eyes must be bugging out of my head and without thinking I'm standing up too, right by Dave, real close so we can smell the wet warm clean smell of her - freshly showered, my mind goes... freshly clean and ready and ....

And then she lets go of it - of the fucking towel - and it's like the beginning of some shy strip show, the cute naive act: and it is fucking hot, fucking sexy.

It slips, so little that it doesn't reveal anything really but my cock jumps in my pants and Dave reaches out and for fuck's sake he has his hand on her - right there, on her bare shoulder, touching her bare skin, and the way she looks at him is like great big deep dark "fuck me!" eyes - it's like watching a sex movie just before they fuck each other.

And through my head is running mad thoughts: is he? will she? will they? fuck fuck fuck, so fucking hot ... will he? ... and for fuck's sake, if he does, fucking sure I will too...

And they stand so still, just locking gazes.

And the fucking towel slips... 

[Gangsta Moll Deactivated]

Sarah

Time seems to stop: there is just Dave, and me, frozen in time.

And the towel, slipping. I can feel it, slightly loose under my arm, but I can't move to stop it. My arm is raised, my hand stays at my forehead where it has brushed away a damp lock of hair, I should lower it, trap the towel under my arm, stop the towel slipping - but I don't.

My eyes are drawn to Dave's, our locked gazes opening a channel of .. I don't know what ... not cimmunication but ... feeling ... raw, primal feeling... sexual feeling.

Time stands still: and in this prozen moment, the towel is the only thing that moves - so slowly it is almost imperceptible. Dry warm air on the slight damp from the shower that still lightly coats the skin of the soft upper swell of my breasts. Soft rustling caress of the towel slipping down my sides: air on my tummy. The silent snuggle of towel pooling at my feet, like a towelling lake in which I stand: naked.

Nobody moves.

There is only Dave, and me.

Richard and Mark are like statues: how did they get so close, when did they stand, and join Dave so close to me - staring, watching, eyes big and shocked and ... and ... wild.

There is only Dave, and me. And the towel, pooled at my feet.

And Richard and Mark.

Frozen in time.

But Dave has moved: in this frozen moment Dave has moved, because he is standing up from stooping. His shorts are at his feet, as my towel is at mine. His erection is huge: thick, hard - very very erect - and almost visibly throbbing. I can see every detail of his thick rock hard cock, even though my eyes are glued to his, as they were before the moment that I missed, when he must have stooped to take off his shorts.

And he holds his gaze as he holds me: firmly, commandingly, as I silently submit - surrender - to his touch. As my slight body lifts with his hands round my waist, as his strong arms raise me, then lift me right off my feet: as our bodies touch - as my legs raise to wrap around his waist and my cunt opens, flowering wetly round the hot hardness of the big shiny head of his raging erection.

So big as it enters me: peeling the soft warm wetness of my cunt lips open to slip gently in, as my arms wrap around Dave's neck, resting on his shoulders, as his cock impales me and fills me so full and my own body weight sinks my cunt so fully down onto it.

My head goes back, my eyes closing, as the cock fills me up and fucks, right up so deep inside me. I can feel my breasts jiggle with the first forceful uopward thrust: I can feel my body almost bounce as his thrusts find their rythmn, slamming the fat thick shaft up into me, again and again.

My mouth is open, my moans are almost wordless, incoherent, as he FUCKS me:

"ah ahaaahhh UUNNGGHHHH ooohh aah"

and then the wooden wall presses against my back, the thrusts pushing me against it, the cock pumping into me even harder now as it fucks me back against the wall.

And my incoherent moans become coherent words:

"aaahhh oh OH YES! OH YES YES YES! FUCK ME!"

and he does.

[Gangsta Moll Deactivated]

Richard

It all happens so fast.

One moment she's standing there all coy and demure with the towel slipping just oh so little, just a tiny peak of tit, teasing - looking right into Dave's eyes with that look she gets that says "fuck me" but with such innocence that you know you can't. Then the next moment she is totally fucking naked - stood there with her hand up to her forehead, every fucking part of her on display - fully butt naked, right there, the towel puddled at her feet, making no attempt to cover herself, just displaying everything. And it's a fuckable body she displays too: a bit of tummy maybe, tits too small but who cares about her tits its her cunt I want to be in and everything about how she stands says that might be an option.

Not my turn yet though because Dave is right there: shorts on the floor, dick in hand, and before you can say "fuck" he has her up and skewered on what I admit is a very impressive erection. It's not like there is time for anything to pass between them: he reaches for her, lifts her up and she just sits herself down right on that fucking great dick as if its the most natural thing in the world to do - which it is, I suppose, just maybe not when you're on a work field trip with colleagues. Well, in fact now it is the most natural thing even here because she is fucking doing it - I mean credit to her there is no holding back, she is up for it and he is in her so deep and her legs are wrapped around his waist and he is humping her well and good.

He is six foot six and she is no more than five, but even so it is awesome how he just lifts her up like that, plonks her down on his shaft, and holds her up there while he fucks her. Some pretty good physical form there, Dave, you've been working out for sure.

I've seen this done, at a sex show in Bangkok - the guy standing there with the girl wrapped round him - and that was sexy but nowhere near as fucking hot as this: they are at it in a frenzy, her hands clawing at his back even before he goes in her, and I swear she is bouncing herself on him just as much as she is being bounced. It is the hottest thing I have ever seen - like animals, no holding back, full on no holds barred frenzied real fucking.

Then she arches back - her whole body arching back so that only Dave's cock inside her and her hands still wrapped round his neck are holding her up - arching back and crying out in great shuddering moans, taking everything he gives her - and boy, is he giving it to her hard - riding him and taking it all. Truly the best sex show I have ever seen - her whole body on display even as she takes the hard fucking, her little tits wobbling and every thrust met with her grunting moans.

She is arched back so far that I fear they will overbalance but Dave does a sort of tottering dance forwards and she ends up slammed against the wall with him still going at her like a dog at a bitch. Which, come to think of it, she is: what a bitch, teasing and being all coy all these times, when really she is a fucking hot fuckslut. But I forgive her - for now - because cumslut she surely is and she is going to have to put out for me now, too.

And it doesn't take long because I'm pretty sure she has been orgasming since the moment he went in her, and Dave is a miracle to have lasted through that but he grunts, heaves up into her so hard that he lifts her off her feet again just with his dick, and he is groaning and from the sound of it he is pumping her so full of cum that it is going to flood her.

[Gangsta Moll Deactivated]

Mark

It's like watching in slow motion. Dave's hand reaches out, tugs at the towel, and it slips - so slowly, like some kind of arty erotic movie, sliding off her: just a bit of breast first, then a whole breast, then both - I'm frozen in place, staring - then her cunt and even then it sjust seems to take ages to sort of gently flutter to the floor. And she stands there just like she's posing - not even moving to hide any part of herself, just stood there with one arm raised, like some kind of classic nude portrait.

And I realise I still have my own hand oustretched, to reach Dave, to pull him back, ready to tell him that no, this is not only career-ending but jail bait. But it's too late, he's gone and done it, stripped her naked. And the real shock is, she isn't protesting - just standing there, totally naked, while all three of us gawp wide-eyed at her nude body. And everything about her says, silently: "Fuck me!"

Then I'm confused as to who moves first: her or Dave. I think she jumps on him and someow, sometime, he has got his shorts off and she just sort of jumps onto his cock and wraps herself around him - her hands holding his head and she is kissing him like a sex-crazed nympho, hugging herself against him and her body has sunk itself right onto that big erection and that's when he starts to really hump her - both of them at it like animals in heat, really fucking.

We are all so close: I can hear the wet squelching of his cock driving up into her, I could reach out and touch her bare skin. And when she leans back her tits jiggle so beautifully that I silently vow that I will suck them, whatever the consequences. That's when it sinks in: when realisation dawns: this is happening - Sarah is naked, right her in front of me - naked and fucking - being fucked - and loving it. I don't really even stop to think about it: I stoop and shuck off my own shorts - and I see that Richard has too.

And she orgasms, loudly, thrashing on his cock, flopping about and falling back so he has to stagger to the wall and prop her up against it as she cums on his cock, thrusting himself up into her in a frenzy, making her moan and shout and cry out until he sort of shivers and groans and I just know he is loading her up with a huge load of pent up cum.

He holds her there for a few moments: both of them shaking. Then he pulls out with a wet sucking sound and sort of lowers her, letting her slide down the wall. And he looks dazed - as well he mich, given what just happens, and staggers back and flops onto the sofa, breathing hard.

And Sarah just slides, gently, down the wall. trembling and whimpering so softly I can't hear what she is saying, until she is half sitting against the wall, half laying on the floor, like a tiny rag doll - like a half deflated sex doll - her legs open and dave's cum visibly drooling from her cunt.

And that's when Richard grabs her ankles and drags her onto her back on the floor.

[Gangsta Moll Deactivated]

Dave

It happens as if in a dream.

My hand touches her shoulder - her bare skin - and a terrible fear washes through me, that I have gone too far - ruined for ever any chance I may have had with her.

Then she shrugs: and the towel falls from her. Not in one swift fall but like a alow reveal - almost agonisngly slow, each piece of bare flesh peeking from behind it then coming into full view. Breasts, nipples, tummy, cunt hair - cunt itself - and then slidoing down those thighs that it had not hidden before, as if to emphasize its baring of them, drawing my attention to them, until it puddles at her feet as if she is standing in a pool of towelling, her arm still raised, her hand still at her forehead. I think of Botticelli's Venus - excep tthis sex goddess is not hiding any part of her coyly with her hands - she is posed to display all - to expose herself, so that her nakedness is brazen - inviting.

I don't remember taking off my shorts but I do feel how painfully hard my erection is as it springs to attention.

I don't know if I reach for her or is she lifts herself onto me - her hands wrap behind my neck, her lips meet mine, her tongue works with mine in my mouth and then in hers as we kiss with a fervour I have not knwon for years. Her breasts squash against my chest, the nipples so stiff that they poke at me like little hard buttons. and my hands are at her waist and she is so light, her small body like a doll - and then the wet warmth of her cunt lips welcomes the hot hardness of my cock, I can feel those lips peel wetly apart as I slide so easily into her tight hot cunt.

Her legs wrap around me and her own body weight sinks her so fully onto my shaft that I think I shall cum just from that exqusite ecstasy. And then I am slamming up into her - and her own body is responding, taking everything I can give her, bouncing on my rigid cock, grunting and moaning and she drives me to take her harder, deeper, her body welcoming every hard deep thrust, every punishing upward pump.

I can feel her orgasm - such tight hot ripples squeezing all along my cock, and her moans turn from incoherent words into a clear unequivocal demand, to fuck her. Which I do, in a white hot blind frenzy of fucking.

She arches back, hanging by her hands from my neck, orgasming on me, shaking and shuddering and her cunt is claspong at my cock, clamping on to it so tightly that it hurts, and I fear I am going to fall in the frenzy of it but then her back is against the wall and the sexual intensity of that takes me to an even higher level of lust and I slam up into her, ramming myself in so hard that if I cared about anything other than fucking her I would fear for her comfort - but she takes it, all of it, orgasming with such a ferocious need that she milks my cock and I feel myself cum, in long full spurts that squirt up into her so much that I can feel the cum oozing out past the pumping plug of my pistoning shaft. 

It is like snow blindness - a fierce white haze such that there is only cock and cunt, bare flesh mashing into bare flesh, and cum spurting endlessly up into her.

But the cumming does end, and I feel dizzy - giddy - and my cock softens, slipping wetly from her, and my legs are like jelly and my heart is pounding, blood rushing in my ears, and I stagger back, almost falling onto the sofa.

And the thought goes through my mind: "oh fuck, what have I done?" - but I know I would do it again - and as my eyes close and I struggle to catch my breath, I know I would do it again.

[Gangsta Moll Deactivated]

Richard

What a fucking teasing bitch!

All those times flashing a little bit of tit and then acting all coy and cautious as if she didn't realise: and three fucking days we have all been pent up in here with her cruising around all cute and cuddly, brushing against us 'by accident', 'oh sorry I need to go get naked and shower'. No wonder Dave can't help himself - no man could face with that provocation.

And no way can she pretend now she didn't want it - she practically jumped him, fucked herself senseless on his cock and now she's drained him she's just laying all spread and oozing cum like the cumslut she fucking surely is.

She doesn't even bother to pretend to resist - just lets me drag her onto the floor and lays there limp and sweaty with cum drizzled down her thighs.

And - fuck! - she is tight but the cum makes it so fucking easy, I just go in all the way, one big fucking rush of tight cunt wrapping round my cock. It's like a trigger to her: her whole body snakes, arches up and up almost lifting me off the ground, shaking and shuddering, and her cunt clasps and clutches at my cock like a fucking milking machine - quite literally, what a cow to keep this to herself, this is one fuck slut that needs to be used and I'm going to use it.

It's like riding a bucking bronco - her body keeps thrashing and writhing under me, I swear her hips are pushing up to meet every deep thrust, it isn't even clear who is fucking who anymore, it's just one great hot fierce fuck fest, and I'm not complaining.

Her hands come up to push at my chest but something makes me want to - need to - teach her a lesson, show her show's in charge, and without thinking I've got her wrists and pushed her arms up above her head. She's so fucking tiny - so fucking easy to grasp both her wrists together in one hand, and I have to say that pinning this bitch to the floor is one of the hottest fucks I have ever had. She's moaning, all incoherent like: "oh no oh no oh please oh fuck oh God oh oh oh" but she fucking wants it and I'm fucking giving it to her. I'm like a fucking machine - like a fucking fucking machine, it's like a fucking fight, a fuck fight, and she's loving it - and so am I.

I'll say this, she can really take it: better than any cheap whore I ever had, and well worth the fucking nothing I've paid. squirming, shuddering, orgasming around my cock, taking everything I can give her and ... oh fuck ..... oh fuck I can't hold it back ... oh fuck what a bitch..... oh fuck so much fucking cum, emptying my fucking balls and I wasn't near finished with her .. oh fuck...

[Gangsta Moll Deactivated]

Mark

I didn't mean to do it.

I swear I was only going to make sure she was OK.

Richard gave her such a hammering: fucking her as if he hated her: maybe he did, I don't know, he always had  a sharp edge when she was around, thought she was a tease - stupid idea, she was naive, yes, but totally unaware of how cute she looked - how fuckable.

Pounding into her like he wanted to hurt her, I don't know why I didn't stop him, it was brutal: but it was like a dream - everything happening too slow then too fast then too slow again. He came inside her like a fire hose - humping it in as deep as he could, really shoving it in to her. And then he just pulled out and left her lying there like a piece of meat - fuckmeat. Just dropped her on the floor like he was disgusted, even though his cum was dribbling down her leg.

And she just lay there - limp, like a wounded bird, like something that had been battered and left.

So I went to make sure she was OK.

But I forgot I had pushed my shorts off when this started, and she was limp, yes, but so fucking hot - her short hair fringe plastered to her forehead, her tits rising and falling with each breath, her legs splayed, cum drizzling from her. And it just happened: I think I leant over her to ask if she was OK, and her eyes opened - so big and so wide - and she lifted one hand to just touch my chest and it was like lighting a fuse, I just couldn't help it, I mean she was naked and splayed and I swear her eyes said "fuck me" like shouting it.

So I did.

Went in so easily, so much cum in her. Tight and warm but so wet. And once I was in she just looked up at me with those big dark 'fuck me' eyes and she kept her hand up so lightly on my chest and yes, I fucked her as hard as Richard had, I couldn't help it.

And when she came it was like riding a bucking bronco, her hips humping up to take me deeper, her arms flailing, her cunt clamping and squeezing and milking me.

I came harder than I think I ever have before: and I knew why Dave and Richard were so dazed after cumming in her, because it was mind-blowing intense, like I dumped my sexual soul into her with my cum.

Edited April 29, 2023 by Gangsta Moll

[Gangsta Moll Deactivated]

Sarah

It is almost like an 'out of body' experience: floating, above my naked body as it gets fucked - watching myself get fucked, seeing the men fuck me. I can almost feel what they do - the sexual power, so like a rage but so much deeper, more primal, that they channel into me. But at the same time I am very much in my body: feeling every thrust, every inch of cock moving in me, every touch and caress and grasp and grope of fingers on my bare skin.

I genuinely don't know what I did that led to this: Cabin Fever, perhaps - cooped up so close with these virile men, my own sexual frustration perhaps mirrored by theirs and then so suddenly unleashed, so raoidly rising to a sexual frenzy - an orgy.

That word sticks in my mind, even through the chaos of sexual feeling that surges like a storm inside me - orgy: I am in an orgy.

Richard takes me so hard, punishing me with great heaving brutal hammering piston thrusts. I feel like a sex toy, a sex object, used - abused - but at the same time he seems to very much see me as a person - as me - grunting curses under his breath: "bitch", "whore", "slut" - and if I were me - the 'real' me, normal ordinary me - I would be shamed, and outraged, at being called such things, at being treated in such a way. But now, here, in this flaring sexual frenzy, I am not me - not 'normal' me, anyway - I am slut, I am whore, I am bitch to be fucked and used - and my mind glories in it, a perverse exultation that to the 'real' me would be as shocking as what Richard does to me.

Not an orgy - the word comes back into my mind.

Not an orgy.

A gangbang.

I am being gangbanged.

And I orgasm, hard, loudly, messily, thrashing under him - and I can feel my orgasm trigger his, a spurting flood of cum.

He pulls out so angrily, I can feel his rage at me flare even higher - frighteningly angry.

And I am limp, exhausted, my arms and legs feel weak, I can only lie as he left me, breathing hard.

Mark is different. Good kind caring thoughtful Mark - the group's informal mediator, always thinking of the team first. His eyes when I open mine are like a rough sea in crosswinds: surging emotions written in them - concern, hesitation - lust.

Lust wins - and I want it to. I reach up to feel his chest - not to push him away but to just feel his skin as he fucks me: to touch him as he slides in. Not so different now, though - kind caring Mark gives way to raw primal sex Mark - and I take it, laying under him, letting him fuck me, taking it - glorying in it.

My orgasm is easy, simple - natural and all-consuming.

When he rolls off I can hardly move: I roll onto my side, haul myself up to a crawling position - no thought in my mind, just starting to sort of crawl away. Exhausted, drained - fulfilled, sated.

Richard blocks my unplanned progress. Kneeling, his cock not fully erect but hardening. His hand grasps my short hair, grips, lifts my head. His other hand guides that thickening cock to my mouth: pushes it in.

"We're not done with you yet, love" he smirks.

[Gangsta Moll Deactivated]

Dave

I feel like I have drained my sexual soul into her along with my cum: my heart beating so fast I have to sit down - almost lie down. I don't think I have ever fucked anyone so hard in my life.

I'm so exhausted I am only dimly aware of Richard dragging her onto the floor and fucking her. My first thought is for her: he uses her so hard that I fear for her. I should stop him but I lack the strength to even stand: as I recover my breath I keep thinking "what a bastard!" and I want to shout "leave her alone!" but I can't find the breath, it is as if I am in a dream. Then I see her react - she is actually taking it, humping up to take it even though he is really hammering her: and my mind shifts to anger: "she's mine!" and then to rage at her: "what a cheating bitch!". And that holds me back from stopping him: the confusion of anger at her, at him, roils inside me and keeps me watching, breathing hard: which makes me rage at myself too, for being a voyeur.

Then she just fucks Mark - he just goes over to her, and she almost drags him onto herself and they go at it like rabbits: like wild animals. I don't know what to think - I thought I had crossed a line, and now I see her just dragging any man within reach into her.

Then Mark finishes in her and she crawls away and Richard just sneeringly stops her, shoves his rod into her mouth and starts to use her like a cheap whore and I come back full circle to rage at him only now I stand up and stalk over: I am going to punch him so hard ... but her ass is in the air, and it just looks so good, and ... and I can't help myself, I find myself kneeling and she is so fucking tight but so fucking wet as I slide in and I am so angry at her for letting him do this to her, I ram myself in so deep, in a hot rage: and as i do so I feel her shoved forward so her mouth swallows Richard's dick and it is like I am fucking him through her and he fucks back so he is making her cunt fuck my cock and it is so utterly fucked up and I am just muttering: "bastard!", and "bitch!" and "whore!" and "fuck you!" and Richard is doing the same, like we are fighting to fuck her the hardest, to teach her the hardest lesson for being .. fuck, I don't know, for being .. a good fuck I suppose.

And Richard grins so wide, and it is like we are fucking a cheap whore in a Thai brothel, vying with each other to fuck her hardest: and Richard lifts his hand, grinning, in a  'high five' and I grin back and slap my palm against his and it is like we are team mates again - shipmates, sharing a whore.

Then Sarah, squashed and hammered between us, lifts her own hand, shakily, palm up - and I high five her and Richard high fives her and she cums, so hard it grips my cock almost painfully and Richard pulls out and shoots cum all over her face, into her hair, and that's too much for me so I pull out too and coat her bare back with my cum and she just flops down to the floor, sprawled there, naked, with us kneeling over her grinning.