So Many Cocks to Handle

Tatiana sat at her desk in the high-rise office, the late afternoon sun cutting through the partially frosted glass wall and painting stripes across her monitor. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard but refused to type. Reports waited. Strategy notes waited. Employee evaluations waited. None of it mattered. All she could feel was the slow, insistent throb between her legs that had started the moment she woke up and only grown worse with every passing hour.

She was twenty-eight, five-foot-three, one hundred and eighteen pounds of tight, caramel-skinned perfection. Half-Filipino blood gave her that smooth, golden-brown complexion that looked polished even under fluorescent lights. Firm B-cup tits sat high on her chest, the dark nipples already stiff against the thin fabric of her black sheath dress. Her ass was small, round, and high, the kind of ass that made men stare when she walked. Between her thighs her pussy was completely bare, the soft folds already slick and swollen from hours of neglected need.

Mike had been her regular cock for the past eight months. Eight thick, veined inches with a heavy upward curve and a fat mushroom head that stretched her perfectly. She could still taste the salt of his skin from their last night together almost a week ago. This morning she had rubbed herself raw in the shower, two fingers buried deep while she pictured that cock sliding into her, but the orgasm had been hollow. It only left her emptier.

She texted him without preamble.

Tatiana: Lunch. Need your cock in me.

Mike: Investors all day. Dinner at the Anatole bar, seven. We’ll get a suite after.

Tatiana: Fine. But I’m going to drain every drop out of those balls.

She set the phone down and slid one hand under her dress. The crotch of her tiny black thong was soaked. She pushed the fabric aside and dragged two fingers through her slit, coating them in warm juice. The contact made her hips twitch. She circled her clit slowly, biting her lower lip to stay quiet. The office door was closed but the glass was only half-frosted. Anyone walking past could see the shape of her if they looked closely enough. The risk only made her wetter.

She worked herself harder, eyes half-closed, imagining Mike’s hands on her hips while he fucked her over this very desk. Her breathing turned shallow. A soft whimper escaped. She was close—

The knock came sharp and sudden.

She jerked her hand free, smoothed the dress, and called, “Come in.”

Her boss, Jack, stepped inside, middle-aged and soft around the middle. He frowned. “You look flushed. You okay?”

“Just under the gun,” she said, forcing a smile. “Reports will be done by one.”

He nodded and left. The moment the door clicked shut she wanted to scream. The edge was gone, replaced by a deeper, meaner ache. She forced herself to work through lunch, through the afternoon, through the slow crawl toward six-thirty. By the time she locked her office and rode the elevator down, her thighs were sticky and her nipples ached from the constant friction of the dress.

The Anatole lobby smelled of money and polished marble. She valet-parked, ducked into the restroom, and checked herself in the mirror. Long dark-chocolate hair fell in a sleek curtain past her shoulders. Full lips, wide dark eyes, the kind of face that made strangers hold doors open. She reapplied lipstick the color of fresh blood, adjusted the dress so it hugged every curve, and walked out on three-inch black heels that made her legs look endless.

The bar was already crowded. She spotted Mike at a large round table with seven other men. All of them were fit, well-dressed, the kind of successful types who smelled of expensive cologne and quiet confidence. Mike stood when he saw her, eyes dragging over her body with open hunger. He pulled her into a hug that pressed his half-hard cock against her stomach.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “this is Tatiana.”

Names blurred. Hands shook hers. Eyes lingered on the swell of her tits and the tight line of her dress over her ass. She smiled, made polite conversation, and felt her pussy clench every time one of them looked at her like he already knew how she sounded when she came.

Shots arrived. Premium tequila. Then more. Mike ordered her a blowjob shot—butterscotch liqueur topped with whipped cream. The table roared with laughter. Tatiana felt the alcohol warm her blood and the ache between her legs turn into pure fire. She put her hands behind her back, leaned forward, and sealed her lips around the rim of the glass. The sweet cream coated her tongue as she tilted her head back and swallowed every drop. When she set the glass down she deliberately licked the remaining cream from her lips in a slow, wet circle. The men’s eyes locked on her mouth.

Mike leaned close. “You’re killing them.”

She whispered back, “I need your cock so fucking bad it hurts.”

He guided her to stand between his knees. She pressed her ass against the hard ridge in his slacks and reached behind to squeeze him through the fabric. Thick. Hot. Ready. The conversation continued around them while she stroked him slowly, shamelessly. One of the men—tall, Black, with a deep voice and a wicked smile—watched her hand move and didn’t bother to hide his interest.

Another round of shots. Her head was pleasantly fuzzy. Mike’s hand slid up the back of her thigh under the table, fingers brushing the soaked crotch of her thong. She parted her legs just enough to let him press two fingers against her clit. A soft gasp left her. No one seemed to notice—or if they did, they only smiled wider.

By the time the group moved upstairs to the suite Mike had already reserved, Tatiana’s panties were ruined and her mind was one continuous loop of need. The suite was large, all dark wood and cream leather, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the city lights. The moment the door closed Mike pulled her against him and kissed her hard, tongue sliding deep while his hands gripped her ass.

“You’ve been dripping all night,” he growled against her mouth. “These guys want a taste. You okay with that?”

She didn’t hesitate. “I want every cock in this room.”

The words hung in the air. Eight pairs of eyes focused on her. Mike stepped back. The tall Black man—Marcus—moved first. He cupped her face and kissed her slowly, thoroughly, while another set of hands unzipped her dress from behind. The fabric slid down her body and pooled at her feet. She stood in only the black thong, heels, and the heat of eight male stares.

Marcus’s hands covered her tits, thumbs brushing the stiff nipples. Someone else knelt and peeled the thong down her legs. Cool air kissed her wet pussy. Fingers traced her slit, parted her, pushed inside. She moaned into Marcus’s mouth.

They guided her to the center of the living room. Mike sat on the edge of a wide armchair and pulled her down so she straddled his face. His tongue dragged through her folds, slow and deliberate, while the other men formed a loose circle around them. Cocks came out one by one—thick, hard, already glistening at the tips. She reached left and right, wrapping her small hands around two shafts, stroking them while Mike ate her like he was starving.

Marcus stepped closer. His cock was massive, easily nine inches and thick enough that her fingers couldn’t close around it. He tapped the heavy head against her lips. She opened immediately. The taste of clean skin and precum flooded her tongue as he pushed deeper, stretching her jaw. She moaned around the intrusion. Mike’s tongue flicked her clit in time with the slow thrusts into her throat.

Hands moved over her body. Someone pinched her nipples hard enough to make her whimper. Another pair of fingers slid into her pussy alongside Mike’s tongue. She was already close. The dual penetration of mouth and cunt, the wet sounds, the smell of aroused men—everything crashed together. Her thighs tightened around Mike’s head and she came hard, juice flooding his mouth while Marcus held her head still and fucked her throat through the orgasm.

They didn’t give her time to recover. Mike slid out from under her. Strong hands lifted her and turned her so she was on all fours on the thick carpet. Marcus knelt behind her, rubbed the fat head of his cock up and down her dripping slit, then pushed in with one long, relentless stroke. The stretch was intense. She cried out, the sound muffled when another cock filled her mouth from the front.

They used her in a steady rhythm—Marcus pounding her pussy with deep, powerful thrusts while the man in front fucked her face. The others waited their turn, stroking themselves, reaching down to twist her nipples or slap her ass. When Marcus pulled out, another cock replaced him immediately. Then another. She lost track of who was where. Every time a new cock stretched her she moaned louder, pushing back for more.

Someone worked a finger into her ass, slick with her own juices. The pressure made her clit throb. A second finger joined the first, scissoring, opening her. She was dripping down her thighs, a string of saliva hanging from her chin as two cocks took turns in her mouth.

They flipped her onto her back. Legs were pushed up toward her chest, folding her nearly in half so her pussy and asshole were fully presented. Marcus returned, lining up and slamming back into her cunt while another man knelt beside her head and fed his cock into her mouth. Fingers returned to her ass, three this time, stretching her open while she was fucked hard. The dual penetration sent sparks up her spine. She came again, walls clenching around the thick cock inside her, juices squirting out around the shaft.

“Fuck, she’s a squirter,” someone said.

They kept going. One man after another took her pussy while others used her mouth and hands. She stroked two cocks at once, sucking a third, while a fourth slammed into her. Her body was a playground of wet holes and eager flesh. When they finally decided to open her ass properly, Marcus was the first. He pushed the broad head against her tight ring, the pressure building until the muscle gave and the fat cock slid inside inch by inch. The burn was sharp and perfect. She moaned around the cock in her mouth, tears of pure pleasure gathering at the corners of her eyes.

Once he was fully seated he began to thrust, slow at first, then harder. Another man slid under her and pushed into her pussy at the same time. The thin wall of flesh between the two cocks made every movement feel enormous. She was stuffed completely, used from both ends, and the sensation drove her into another orgasm that left her shaking and babbling.

They rotated again. Every man took a turn in her ass, her pussy, her throat. She was moved from the floor to the couch, bent over the back so they could stand and fuck her deeper. Then onto the large bed in the suite’s master bedroom. Mike lay back and pulled her on top of him. She sank down onto his cock with a grateful moan, riding him hard while the others surrounded the bed. Cocks were presented to her mouth from every angle. She sucked and stroked and rode, her small body bouncing, tits jiggling, ass flexing with every thrust.