3
The second man presses his thumb against her clit, rubbing slow circles while his fingers continue stretching her asshole.
She clenches around him instinctively, which only makes him chuckle darkly.
"This cunt's hungry tonight," he murmurs, twisting his wrist just enough to make her squeal.
The first man pulls out abruptly, leaving her empty and gasping—only to slam back in harder, his balls slapping against her swollen lips.
Natasha arches violently against the restraints, the leather belt digging into her waist as she tries to push back against both of them.
"Fuck—yes, harder, don't stop!" she begs, her voice cracking.
The rhythm grows erratic, brutal—the first man's thrusts turning jagged while the second works his third finger deeper into her ass.
The burn is delicious, a sharp contrast to the slick glide of the cock pistoning into her cunt.
The second man exhales sharply against her shoulder.
"Greedy little slut, aren't you?" He crooks his fingers inside her, making her jerk.
Then—slowly, deliberately—he adds a fourth finger, stretching her open to the point of panting.
Natasha's thighs shake, her body suspended between pleasure and the edge of pain.
Just as she whimpers, the first man snarls something guttural, his hips stuttering against her.
Heat floods her—thick, pulsing—as he comes deep inside her, his cock twitching with each spurt.
Natasha's orgasm crashes over her like a collapsing wave.
She arches violently, her scream muffled against the pillow.
"Oh god oh god—!" Her cunt clenches wildly around him, milking every last drop as her vision whites out.
The second man chuckles darkly, his fingers still buried in her ass.
"Look at that," he murmurs. "She's dripping."
The first man pulls out with a slick sound, leaving her gaping and trembling.
Cum trickles down her thighs, mixing with her own slickness.
"My god what an unbelievable slut this is," the second man shouts, giving her asscheek a rough slap.
The sting makes her gasp. "Now be gone. I want to fuck her ass now."
The first man grunts, buckling his belt with a smirk.
"Good luck—she's tight as hell." Natasha hears his footsteps recede, her pulse still thudding in her ears.
The second man doesn't waste time—his hands grip her hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples of her lower back.
She feels the blunt head of his cock prodding her stretched hole, already slick with spit and her own arousal.
"Breathe," he orders, and she obeys, exhaling sharply as he pushes inside in one relentless thrust.
Natasha's back bows, her fingers scrabbling against the table's underside.
The stretch is exquisite—a white-hot ache that melts into pleasure as he bottoms out.
"Fuck," he hisses, rolling his hips experimentally.
Her ass clenches around him reflexively, drawing a groan from deep in his chest.
"Christ, you're greedy." He pulls back slowly, savoring the drag, before slamming home again.
The sound is obscene—wet skin slapping against skin—and Natasha moans into her pillow, the vibrations muffled.
He sets a brutal pace from the start, hands anchored on her hips as he drives into her.
Natasha's vision blurs; each thrust jolts her forward, the handcuffs biting into her wrists.
Sweat drips down her spine, pooling between her shoulder blades.
The scent of sex is thick now—musky and primal—mingling with the tang of leather from the restraints.
She can hear the wet slap of his thighs against hers, the creak of the bench beneath them.
"That's it," he growls, fingers digging bruises into her flesh. "Take it like the whore that you are."
Her asshole burns, stretched impossibly tight around him, but the pain dissolves into molten pleasure with every snap of his hips.
She's never felt so full—so used. The thought sends another surge of wetness between her thighs.
His rhythm falters when he notices, a dark laugh escaping him.
"Fuck, you're really getting off on this, don't you?"
He angles his next thrust deliberately upward, hitting that sweet spot inside her that makes her shriek.
Her cunt pulses uselessly around nothing, aching also to be filled again.
The man's grip tightens, fingers pressing deep enough to leave marks.
Natasha can feel the moment he loses control—his thrusts turning erratic, brutal.
The bench creaks dangerously beneath them.
"Gonna wreck this ass," he grunts, his voice thick with strain.
His balls slap against her swollen lips with each stroke, the sound filthy and wet.
Natasha's orgasm builds again, coiling tight in her belly.
She whimpers, pressing back against him shamelessly, chasing the friction.
Then—silence. His rhythm stops abruptly.
Natasha barely has time to whine in protest before she feels his thumb pressing against her asshole, stretching it wider around his cock.
"Look at that," he murmurs, voice rough.
"She still takes every inch." He drags himself out agonizingly slow, letting her feel every ridge, before slamming back in with enough force to make the table shudder.
Natasha sobs, her thighs trembling. The stretch burns, but the pleasure drowns it out with wave after wave crashing over her until her vision whites out.
Natasha comes with a scream, her body clamping down on him involuntarily.
He groans, hips stuttering—and then he's coming too, hot and thick inside her.
Natasha gasps as his cock pulses, filling her further with each spurt.
He collapses on the hole, his chest pressing against the wall.
"Christ," he mutters, voice wrecked. He pulls out slowly, leaving her gaping and dripping onto the bench.
Natasha sags against the restraints, panting also heavily.
The man retreats and leaves and new footsteps approach—two sets this time—Natasha hears low whistles.
"Look at this slut," a new voice says, rough with amusement.
"She's gaping like a broken whore." Fingers press against her stretched rim, spreading her wider.
The touch is almost too much—oversensitive and raw—but Natasha moans anyway, pushing back weakly.
The second man laughs, his palm landing on her ass with a sharp smack.
"Listen to that. I think she's still fucking begging for more."
Hands grip her hips, calloused fingers digging in.
Natasha feels the blunt head of a new cock prodding her well-used cunt, still slick with the last man's spend.
It slides in effortlessly, her body accepting it like she was made for this.
"Jesus, she's loose," the man grunts, bottoming out in one thrust.
His partner chuckles, stepping closer. "Let's see how loose."
Before Natasha can react, she feels the other man's hand pressing against her asshole—which is already stretched but still tight enough to make her gasp.
Three thick fingers push in without warning, sliding deep with obscene ease.
The stretch burns deliciously, her body instinctively clenching around the intrusion.
The fingers crook inside her, rubbing against that sensitive spot that makes her vision blur.
"Fuck fuck!" Natasha arches violently, the sensation overwhelming as both men move in tandem—one fucking her cunt, the other fingering her ass with rough, practiced strokes.
Her thighs shake, sweat dripping down her inner thighs.
The bench creaks beneath her, the leather belt cutting into her waist as she writhes between them.
The fourth finger comes without ceremony—just a slow, relentless push that makes Natasha's breath hitch.
It stretches her wider than ever before, her asshole fluttering around the intrusion.
The man behind her laughs darkly, twisting his wrist just to hear her whimper.
"Christ, look at her," he murmurs, dragging his fingers halfway out before plunging back in.
"She's gonna swallow my whole hand, i promise you."
Natasha moans into the pillow, her cunt pulsing around the other man's cock in response.
The dual stimulation is maddening—her body torn between pleasure and the sharp, delicious stretch of being filled beyond what she thought possible.
His thumb finds her clit next, pressing down in slow, grinding circles.
The pressure is just shy of painful, and Natasha jerks against the restraints, her thighs trembling.
"Please—" she gasps, but neither man relents.
The thumb circles faster while the fingers in her ass scissor wider, stretching her obscenely.
The cock buried in her cunt pistons harder, hips slapping against her swollen lips with a wet smack.
The rhythm is brutal now—no finesse, just raw, relentless fucking.
Natasha's vision blurs at the edges, her moans turning into broken sobs as pleasure coils tight in her gut.
Then—without warning—the man at her ass withdraws his fingers completely.
Natasha whines at the sudden emptiness, but the protest dies in her throat when she feels the broad head of his palm pressing against her stretched rim.
Her breath hitches. "Wait—" she starts, but he doesn't.
With one firm push, his hand sinks into her up to the wrist.
Natasha screams, her body arching violently against the restraints.
The stretch is agony and ecstasy fused together—her asshole fluttering around his forearm as he works deeper.
The man fucking her cunt groans, his thrusts turning erratic.
"Fuck, I can feel you through her walls," he grits out, slamming home harder.