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Joel dropped the appendages of all three men at once. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and jumped to his feet. It was instinct, to conserve his masculinity in the face of the woman he really wanted. A caustic mix of shame, emasculation and the sense of being caught-out made him panic; but he stayed mute.
Mim leisurely walked towards the four of them with a gliding motion that didn’t typically belong to her. She was slower, more theatrical than her typical business ‘charge’; she was playing the game.
She looked Joel up and down, and circled him, as if examining an item for auction. A veritable meat market for helpless husbands finding themselves in ever more enduring sex scenarios. She caught his eye with a mischievous smirk, she was enjoying this, dare he say, aroused by this game. She loved power, she loved that he gave her power, he loved being overpowered. He felt his extremities warm and his sense of a playtime heightened. It seemed he was into this game after all.
“I think it’s time we get him fucked, don’t you?” Mim suggested, “I’ll be in 149 when you are done with him”
She turned on her heel and was out the room in seconds. The four men, all stood up, eyed each other, agreeing non-verbally who was to get this started. Joel, surprising himself more than any one, took place upon the bed. He was feeling confident now. He laid back on the bed, looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath, this was his time to play the role of passive.
The unnamed assailant was first to jump at the opportunity. He whipped off his remaining swatches of clothing and before long had his hands behind the thighs of Joel, pressing his knees up toward his face. Joel put all thoughts of apprehension from his mind, he too was ready to feel something new and exciting.
The pressure of this man’s dick against his entrance made him gasp. There was something about submitting to someone that drew all sensation back to the brain. His arms and legs weakened and his eyes began pleading into the face of the penetrator. He pushed himself in and Joel drew in air. His back arched as he bundled his face into the pillows. It was an unexpected sensation, a full empathy of all those nights with the various noises and grunts of Mim, suddenly in complete understanding of it all. The fine line of pleasure.
The man started pumping himself in and out of Joel in thrusting motions, building speed steadily. The other men seemed to derive pleasure from watching Joel be dominated. They too mounted the bed, taking both flanking sides of Joel, rubbing themselves to their own private show.
Moustache, interjected on the fucking and took his place below Joel. Pushing himself in confidently and taking a vigorous approach to the penetration. Moustache seemed to be grabbing Joel’s legs hard and squeezing the muscles as tight as he could. It was a more staccato rhythm and one which Joe’s lungs struggled to keep up with.
The speed of the menagerie quickened as Joel was being thrown from his back to his front, onto and off of the bed, kissed and grabbed. Joel felt a stimulation inside him that caused his hands and legs to tremble. He felt his head leading off into the blank and completely giving himself over to this uncontrollable pleasure. A grunt from one of the men brought his attention back.
It was Whiskey Sours, his muscles contorting and face grimacing as he was about to blow his load. With a stifled roar, he let himself go all over Joel’s chest. Joel felt the man’s white fluid, pooling on the contours of his torso. Once warm, suddenly cooling.
The other two took this as a queue to follow, pulling themselves out of Joel and going for it with vigor. It was the assailant first, a silent killer, sighing gently as he relieved his pleasure on Joel’s thigh, soon followed by Moustache, firing himself across the length of Joel, reaching the top of his neck.
It was as if the whole world sobered in that moment. Breaths were caught, brows were wiped, noses sniffing. Joel, coming back to reality, realized his job was done. He felt weak and thumping, but a sweet satisfaction was circulating in his veins. It was time for him to run. It was time for him to get his own. He would leave the mess on his body that Mim’s fantasy had created and bring it to her as a prize, a badge of his accomplishment.
Joel jumped to his feet and ran for the door, he was glad to have not succumbed to the stimulation of being fucked. He was glad to have saved his load for Mim, because she was, without doubt, in for it now. He could not get to room 149 quick enough.