The Card Game

Just as I began to trace my fingertips down his stomach, Matt pivoted, giving me my first good look at his ass. Mmmmm, now that was an ass! Rounded and perfectly shaped ass cheeks set just the right distance from each other. This would be a pleasure to ante up, I thought, as my hands rubbed the tightly muscled flesh. My heavy tits swung against his back, and he moaned deep in his throat. I could feel my pussy beginning to ache from my own desire, and a bit of sweat broke out across my breasts and my back. I kneaded Matt's tight ass, and then let my hands slide around to the front.

My fingers slid along his pelvis, and I cupped his balls in my hands. Now firm and radiating heat, I could tell they were swollen with the excitement of having watched me handle the six previous players. His dick was stiff and ready for pleasure, but he didn't lose control. I imagined that this ante would only involve pleasuring him, and myself, up to but not over the line to orgasm. I'd still have to beat Matt, but I had the cards to do it. He might be the one who'd be leaving without an opportunity to leave his sticky mark on me. But I'd challenge him to hold back, I thought, and let my fingers encircle the firm shaft, stroking up and down. And with each stroke, I was pumping my own hips lightly into his sexy ass, as much for my own pleasure as for his.

But I was getting lost in my own rising excitement. I was almost forgetting that this was about me making good on my ante... To both of them!

Suddenly, I was forcefully reminded of that fact. My man was behind me, his thick and engorged dick even longer than its usual 7 inches. It pressed forcefully against me as he swiftly captured my arms and half-lifted me as he pushed me to my knees. I felt rather than saw an ottoman in front of me, and he bent me roughly over it.

"Ante up, Babe. This time, if you think you have the cards to beat us, you're going to give us what we want. Or fold- in which case, you're going to give us what we want anyway. ALL of us. Win and you may avoid that."

Uh-oh. I was bent over the ottoman, my ass displayed high in the air for everyone's visual pleasure. My man's dick was definitely bent on dumping a load into me. And Matt was moving around in front of me, positioning himself so that his dick was in my face. I could definitely tell where IT was headed!

And not to forget the other 5. In various stages of re-arousal, their hands were back on my body. Strong hands were now pinning me to the ottoman, while my man stepped slightly back, stroking his cock. Fingers kneaded my ass-cheeks, tongues traced down the small of my back, and several sets of teeth were sinking into the flesh of my backside. Other hands worked their way back under my tits, squeezing tightly. My man let them all play for several minutes, while the general sexual tension built. Matt too, was momentarily pausing, just beyond my lips, ready to plunge his dick into my mouth as soon as my man was ready.

I was pretty certain that my man was ready to assert his ownership of my body. Thank heavens; he was at least willing to give me the comfort of lubricating his dick before he split my ass with it. His fingers dipped the lubricant onto his cock, and with a few skilled strokes, he was ready to go.

He nodded at Matt to be ready. "Babe, you're going to show us all how you ante up on both of us at once".

"He's going to fuck her in that sweet ass!" A murmur of envy, of anticipation, even of disbelief went around the room.

"And she's going to suck me off while she gets her ass pounded". Matt was obviously enjoying this prospect very much.

"And what do YOU want, Babe? Tell me; tell them all, what do you want?"

"I want you to fuck my ass while I suck his dick". I knew my role here, and it was definitely going to go easier on me if I showed them all how submissive to him I was.

"How do you want it?"

"I want you to fuck me hard".

"Not good enough"

"I want you to fuck me harder than you've ever fucked me before". And I want you to plunge your dick into my tight ass without mercy".

"Ah, that sounds good. But your ass looks cold. It needs to be hot before I fuck it. What do you want to happen to make it hot?"

"I want you to spank it."

Smack. Smack again. My ass stung, and I could tell by the very interested examinations going on that it was reddening as well.

"What else?"

"I want them all to spank me".

I thought Matt was going to lose his cum all over me. But he merely leaned forward, jamming his dick into my face, and took the first swat. Then another. And for a long moment, all that was heard was the slap of hands, many hands, onto my stinging ass cheeks.

Then my man had waited long enough. At his movement, the other hands stopped spanking my now bright red butt. He positioned himself directly between the swelling cheeks, spread them and with one swift thrust, burst his way into my tight ass hole.

I screamed. But the next second, that scream was silenced as Matt took advantage of the parting of my lips to plunge his own dick deep into my mouth, down my throat it seemed. The large size of it stretched my mouth as I struggled to suck and keep my teeth covered. At the same time, the pain of my man's own big dong slamming into my tight hole was tearing through me, and mixing with the pleasure of having my ass reamed.

I had never experienced anything like the assault on my sexual senses. There were fingers tweaking my nipples, there were hands in my hair. There was the pain/pleasure that was a vigorous ass-fuck and the knowledge that the dick in my mouth was going to explode and rain cum down my throat. My ass was being battered and driven against, but hands firmly held me in place, preventing me from moving forward or away from any of the directions from which these assaults were coming.

Suddenly I felt another sensation. Someone had worked a hand under my hips, and a very knowledgeable finger was working its way against my clit. Swollen from excitement, it was now undergoing its own battering, as the thrusts of my man's cock ground my clit onto this finger. I was being speared from more directions than I could have imagined, and within a few more strokes, I was back to orgasm-land, even before either of the men I was servicing. My pussy contracted, my clit throbbed and I spilled my own juices all over the mystery hand that was continuing to probe me.

At the height of my orgasm, I felt Matt's dick swell even more. His own hot cum was pouring down my throat, gagging me. And on my back, I could feel at least two more jets, warm and sticky, as several of the men evidently could not, or did not care to, hold off again at the sight of me being thoroughly ravished from all sides.

And still my man stroked and pounded into my ass. My cheeks and hole had relaxed enough with my orgasm that I was actually enjoying the sensation. My ass burned on the outside, and felt shredded on the inside, but still he held back although I could feel the throbbing of his dick. I could tell that he was not going to let go and cum until he outlasted them all. I squirmed and moaned, now that Matt had convulsed his last drops down my throat. My man's hips slapped my aching ass, as the rest moved back slightly.

Then finally, with four enormous thrusts that left me gasping, his dick swelled and stretched my ass hole farther than I thought I could bear. He slammed his hips as hard as he could, sinking that cock completely to the hilt, and exploded up my ass. I ground my hips back to meet the challenge, although the pain took my breath away. And the hot cum that poured up my ass soothed the raw ache, and kicked me over the edge again. The only thing I was aware of was his orgasm and mine, waves and waves of it.

I slowly drifted back to reality, to find a glass of very cold champagne being pressed to my swollen lips. I realized I was still draped over the ottoman, the taste of Matt's cum in my mouth, with my ass completely full of my man's cum and the remains of several others' orgasms drying on my back.

With the awareness that every eye was still on me, whatever the state of their cocks, I stood tall. Stark naked except for my high heels, having just relieved every one of them of at least some of their man-juices, I reached over and picked up my cards.

"I believe I'll need a few minutes' break to recover- that is, to regroup. But I've earned the right to play this hand." And I headed off down the hall.

I took a long sip of the cold champagne as I shut the bathroom door. What I really wanted to do was drink the glass down, drink a bottle down, as I soaked in a steamy tub. I was sore from head to toe. My ass still stung from the slaps it had received. My nipples were raw and throbbed from the mouths that had sucked and bitten them, the fingers that had pulled them, stretched them to their limits, rubbed, chaffed and caressed them. My arms ached from being held down, then pulled up, then restrained again and again as man after man used my body for his pleasure. My mouth still tasted of Matt's cum, and my jaw and tongue ached from the strain of pleasuring him, almost immediately after sucking Damon's dick into submission. And most intensely, my asshole and interior was still convulsing after the assault by my man's raging cock. It cramped and ached as if he had torn me open, but I knew from many previous ass fucks that the ache would ease and the throbbing would retreat into a pulse that reminded me of both the pain and the pleasure of being fucked up the ass. This was not a new treat for me; indeed, it was a regular way we enjoyed each other, and I loved it.

As I thought about the ass fuck that had just occurred, I continued to sip the champagne. It began to have its effect on me; the gentle bubbles slipped down my raw throat and the alcohol eased my senses. The ass-fuck part of this had been awesome, as it usually was between my master and me, and the assault on my mouth at the same time had been a new experience. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not: it was both a welcome distraction from the pain my ass was experiencing and an unwelcome one because it pulled my attention from the fucking I'd begged for. That was the nature of our ass-fucking: pain and pleasure that could be excruciating but also so tantalizing. And when the third sensory assault began on my clit, well, that was a climax driven by so many factors I couldn't even imagine them.

The primary, demanding and over-riding pounding my ass was receiving was undeniably the major contributor. Hell, I almost always came when my master ass-fucked me, I thought, as I took another deep sip of the cool bubbly liquid. But added to that was the mouth-fucking that was happening at the same time. And then the direct fingering of my clit. That was good, not great; whoever was fingering me was not the best at finger-fucking, but I didn't need much at that point. And then I recalled the insistent shoving and poking from 5 or more cocks that were being stroked by their owners who watched this display. And the fact, evidenced by the sticky and dripping remains of cum, that some of those owners proved that even though I'd relieved them of their first loads, they had more to give. And undoubtedly at this moment, all 7 were considering whether, how and when they'd give the next gift to me.

As I looked at my reflection in the mirror, a tap came on the door. It opened, just a crack. A hand I recognized as my man's held the bottle of champagne. I reached for it, and the door slid closed as soon as he handed it to me. The alcohol was having more effect on me, which my man undoubtedly desired.

Pouring another full glass, I looked back at my reflection. My hair was wild from multiple hands being run through it. Hands through my hair, that was a positive turn-on. My lips were swollen and red. A large area of my neck was also much reddened, probably from someone with a second-day beard. A bruise or two, hickies, were beginning to appear on my neck as well.

My breasts, despite the attention and rough handling, were at their usual slight droop. But the swell of my DD boobs was natural, so drooping was part of the package. And I hadn't heard any complaints from the boys outside the door. In fact, I didn't hear complaints from any guy that looked at my tits, only admiring gazes, envious looks at my guy, and outright lust from less genteel sorts. And if I was out with my man and wearing a low-cut blouse, or a tight sweater, it was pretty amusing to watch the guys try to "accidently" brush up against me or even try to cop a feel. Looking down my top was the usual game. The booze in the champagne was definitely having an effect, and I giggled to myself, thinking of the times I'd bundled my beauties into a shapely bra that pushed them into great cleavage, then gone out to dance with my man and watched the other guys with amusement.

With three-quarters of my white mams pushing up and out of the bra and the dress I'd worn last week, some of the same guys I'd just serviced had been openly lusting for a look and feel of those titties. They'd been eager to get me to dance with them, rubbing their chests against mine and trying to entice me by rubbing the hardening bulges against me when we danced or leaning at the bar. Even the bartender paid close attention to us, taking a long look down the darkened valley of my cleavage. I could see him calculating whether he could get me to move enough to check out the color of my barely concealed nipples. Well, now he knew, as that bartender was Ted, the eager beaver who blew his first load of cum at the sight and feel of those tits tonight. And many of the varied cocks I'd seen and serviced in some way tonight were the same ones that had swelled with desire last week at the bar. At least, I giggled into the champagne glass, they still paid attention without that hot red dress I'd worn. And the next time I slipped into that short, swirly and deeply cut v-necked number, they'd definitely be thinking about exactly what went on under those scraps of fabric.

I ran my hands down my sides and cupped my breasts, lifting them slightly. Yep, little bruises and bite marks covered the large surfaces. And as usual, my nipples were standing straight up and out. Redder than usual from the extended treatment they'd received, they swelled even larger than they usually did. If I was to slip on that sexy dress now, they'd threaten to poke right through it. Even my bra would not contain them, I knew, and they would clearly show the outline and promise of spectacular nips that would have every man's attention. Well, that was a problem or an enticement to worry about later, as I had not a scrap of clothing to put on. But it was satisfying to know that my nipples would continue to be the focus of lust, desire, craving and satisfaction in the moments yet to come.

I felt the heavy weight of the globes in my hands. I thought of how much they'd played into my success so far at keeping the players at bay, distracting them from the desire to fuck me in front of the others. Even more than I usually did, I appreciated my large boobs and hardened nipples.

My eye traveled down my belly. It showed how much I'd been used as the object of their lust and their satisfaction. It seemed that even beyond my tits, my skin had traces of drying cum, tracing streams of satisfaction down my belly and beyond to the rounded mound of hair marking the entrance to the forbidden valley. I was warming with the drink, and felt the flickers of excitement at recalling how much they wanted my body, how they couldn't even hold back to see if they would be allowed to bury their dicks in that valley. No one had yet, and I was hoping to maintain that, but my own body felt some tingles at recalling where and how each had so far been partially satisfied.

Almost on their own, it seemed, my fingers kneaded my pussy mound. Even though I'd come a couple of times in the orgy over the last hour, I was way behind in comparison to how many orgasms had been climaxed by the men outside the door. No one had taken much time in bringing me to orgasm; instead, the two very good ones I'd experienced had been side effects, almost, of the main events of bringing every one of the seven to orgasm, or orgasms in a few cases. Now I took my time, massaging my own mound and letting excitement build within my pussy. Slowly I slipped a finger down the valley alongside my clit. Wet with my own juice and that of many of the men who's so far enjoyed me, I firmly rubbed that little button of pleasure. Faster and faster, firmly but also varying the pressure, I built the warm tingle deep within my pussy. Friction, pressure, wetness, friction, heat... the wave began to build. More, up and then sliding down the wave of pleasure, taken my own way and tumbled over and over in the pulse of orgasm. Ahh... pulsing clit, fingers slowing and my wetness growing, I thrust my hips to meet my fingers, and then rode the pleasure wave down to the bottom.

My clit tingled and pulsed as my senses once again emerged from the deep spot in my pussy to be aware of the outside of my own body. The focus was now on my clit itself, and it was almost too sensitive to touch, as always after orgasm. I became aware of the room around me again, and drank deeply of the champagne.

I realized I had only a few more moments to prepare for the final showdown of the card game. I considered whether my man would want me to continue to display the marks of the all of the men's fulfillment. He probably would, but at this point his own cum was coursing out of my ass and I needed to clean up some. I turned on the shower, and quickly stepped inside, rubbing the hot water over my over-sensitized skin, cleaning what needed to be cleaned. My hair would await the final showing of this hand, I decided, aware that the possibility that it would also be coated with cum before the night was done. The drops of water stung my skin, already chaffed by the hands of many men. I slid the soap over my mounds of tits, over my belly and my pussy.

My hands gently spread the swollen lips to embrace the warm water, and I bent to expose my sore ass to the wet shower of drops. Reluctantly I stepped out of the shower, and blotted dry my skin, knowing that rubbing would simply multiply the touches, gentle and not so gentle, that were yet to come.

I stretched my arms, legs, torso, beginning to feel the muscle strain of arching my neck to suck first Damon's dick, then Matt's. My shoulders, too... they had been holding my weight while my mouth was fucked, while my stomach muscles were aching from holding in one position or another while these 6 men had released stream after stream of cum on or in me. And with each step, I could feel the deep pain where my master's skilled cock had reamed my ass so thoroughly. It felt like I'd been split deep within my ass, it ached and the muscles of my ass felt like they'd been climbing a five-story staircase. But the heat also warmed me, and the pain also stimulated me with each step. The joy and pain of an ass-fuck; it was addicting and sexy and embarrassing all at once. And I had to admit, I thought as I sipped at the champagne again, that ass-fuck was by far my favorite part of this evening's activities.

The champagne was making me a bit giggly as I pinned up my hair, stretched my toes to slip the towering heels back on, raised my chin, pulled back my shoulders to best display the tits these guys were paying, in one way or another, to see. I opened the door and stepped back into the room.

Glancing down, I could see my tits glowing from the attention they'd gotten, from the warm shower and from the champagne. I could see them bounce with every step, their weight swaying from side to side as my hips swiveled with each stride. I could tell that my ass was pushed out by the high heels, showing off the tightness I'd gained through hours of exercise and years of dieting.