Free Use Urban Exploring Fantasy
I slipped into the abandoned writer’s manor just after dusk, the heavy oak door groaning shut behind me. The air was thick with mildew, damp rot, and the faint musty scent of old yellowed paper. My heart pounded as I hiked up my micro-skirt, bent over the heavy oak desk in the grand parlor, and posted the location. My smooth legs were spread, my cute little bush—a soft, trimmed patch of dark hair just above my six-inch cock—already exposed along with my lubed hole, twitching in the cool, stale draft slipping through the cracked windows.
Headlights cut through the gloom. Footsteps crunched over broken glass. Then they were on me.
Rough hands gripped my narrow hips. The first man dropped to his knees and buried his face between my cheeks, eating my ass with hungry, sloppy enthusiasm. His hot tongue dragged over my tight hole, circling and pushing inside, the wet sounds loud and obscene in the silent parlor. He moaned into me, inhaling my scent before sucking and licking greedily. Another man grabbed my arms, lifting them and pressing his nose into my smooth, lightly scented armpits. He licked them thoroughly, long, slow drags of his tongue tasting my sweat, breathing in deep like he was addicted, groaning as he sucked and kissed the sensitive skin while I shivered.
The first cock finally replaced the tongue, shoving into me raw, thick, veined, and burning as it stretched my femboy hole with a wet squelch. I gasped at the fullness, my walls clenching hard. My six-inch cock hung heavy and hard beneath me, the cute little bush at its base already matted with precum. They rotated relentlessly. One man would eat my ass sloppily between fucks, his tongue scooping out fresh cum only to push it back in. Others took turns enjoying my armpits, licking, sniffing, and biting them raw while their hands stroked my leaking six-inch dick.
The air thickened with the sharp musk of sweat, precum, and unwashed bodies. Someone forced his cock down my throat, the salty-bitter taste flooding my mouth as I drooled. Load after load pumped into me. Thick, hot ropes flooded my guts, so much that it immediately leaked out in sticky rivers down my thighs, dripping onto the dusty floor. They pissed on me freely, hot, acrid streams splashing over my back, soaking my crop top, running down my face, chest, and into my open mouth. The sharp ammonia burned my nose while the warm liquid cooled on my skin.
By the tenth man, my belly felt bloated and sloshing with cum. Every movement caused wet, filthy squelching sounds inside me. My cute little bush was soaked and dripping with stray loads and piss. My makeup ran in black streaks, lips swollen and glossy. The manor reeked of raw sex, bitter semen, pungent piss, and the animal smell of men who had used every inch of me.
Only one remained as the sky lightened to bruised gray.
He was big, bearded, and hard, staring at my wrecked body covered in cum, piss still trickling down my legs, armpits red from thorough fuckings, and my six-inch cock twitching beneath my cute little bush. I turned on shaky legs and shoved him onto the desk. Straddling him, I guided his thick cock into my overflowing hole. The glide was disgusting perfection, warm stranger cum acting as lube, loud squelches as I sank down, forcing thick globs to surge out around his shaft and coat his balls.
I rode him hard in reverse, my asscheeks slapping wetly. Each bounce pushed more cum out, splattering his stomach and chest. I reached back, scooped the warm mess, and smeared it across his face. My six-inch cock rubbed frantically against his abs, the soft bush at the base grinding into his skin. The friction built until I finally spilled—long, thick spurts of my own cum painting his torso.
My hole spasmed around him as he groaned and pumped his final load deep into my flooded guts. I stayed seated, grinding slowly, feeling the warm mixture of piss and dozens of loads coating us both. Leaning down, I licked up his cum-covered chest, tasting the salty, bitter cocktail of strangers.
My voice came out hoarse but dark with satisfaction:
“…Tell them the femboy’s still open for more.”