Sweety bounced down the hallway of the apartment she shared with Andrew, her bare feet slapping against the cool hardwood. No bra, because why the fuck would she need one when her tits sat up so pretty and firm on their own. The white t-shirt she’d pulled on that morning was thin enough that anyone paying attention could see the dark circles of her nipples pressing against the fabric, hard little points that never seemed to soften. Pink nipple bars on each nip. She knew it. She loved it.

Her tattered and worn "come fuck me" jean shorts were a size too small, hugging her ass like they were painted on, the denim frayed at the edges where her cheeks peeked out just slightly when she walked. Underneath, baby blue panties stretched tight over her waxed pussy, the kind of smooth that came from appointments she never missed because she never knew when she’d need to be ready. Ready for what? She didn’t always know. But the thought alone kept her wet. Sweety was never dry. Horny as hell constantly.

“What do I get for my birthday?” she innocently asked Andrew, spinning around in the kitchen with a playful grin. Her black hair swung past her waist, and her innocent face didn’t match the filthy things running through her mind. It never did. That was the game.

Andrew leaned against the counter, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Wait and see. Maybe you will get cum filled today." Sweety laughed.

He brought his hand down hard on her ass. The smack echoed through the hallway. Andrew grabbed the rear right pocket of the old worn out shorts and ripped the pocket off a bit. He wanted to throw her over the counter and fuck her hard. He would wait for the show. Sweety yelped, a sharp cry that turned into a giggle as she took off bouncing down the hall toward the bedroom, rubbing her stinging cheek. Her pussy clenched at the impact, the familiar ache spreading warmth between her legs. She was already thinking about getting herself off before whatever surprise Andrew had planned. Off she went to masturbate. She was loud.

Andrew's birthday surprise involved putting an ad out to get 10-15 men for a birthday gangbang of his Sweety. It had been awhile since her last one and she needed a good fuck fest again to calm her! The men had answered the ad and had been teased with photos of Sweety over the past two weeks. They were told not to cum and build up as much baby juice as they could for Sweety. Word got around and the crowd would be much larger!

A group of 15 men arrived as Sweety was down the hall in the bedroom loudly masturbating. A few pulled out massive thick pre-cum covered cocks and stroked listening to her.

Sweety yelled and asked Andrew if she could cum like a good little baddie and Andrew said yes. When she moaned and came it could cause a person to ejaculate.

When Sweety eventually came out she stopped dead in her tracks. The living room was full of men.

Her mouth falling open. There now had to be twenty-five of them, maybe more, standing shoulder to shoulder, sitting on the arms of the couch, leaning against the walls. They weren’t hiding. They weren’t trying to be quiet anymore. They were just there, a sea of hard bodies and harder cocks straining against jeans and zippers. Some of them already had their dicks out, stroking slowly, eyes locked on her like she was a meal.

“Andrew?” Her voice came out small, confused. “What’s going on?”

Andrew stepped up behind her, his hand finding the small of her back. “Happy Birthday, Sweety.”

Then louder, to the room: “Get her.”

Sweety shrieked and spun, her survival instinct kicking in before her brain caught up. She bolted down the hallway toward the bedroom, her bare feet slipping on the floor, her heart hammering. Behind her, the sound of heavy footsteps, deep laughter, and hungry growls filled the narrow space. A hand caught the back of her shirt, yanking her off balance. She stumbled, caught herself on the wall, kept running. Another hand slapped her ass so hard she screamed, the sting radiating through her whole body.

She made it to the bedroom but there was nowhere to go. The men poured in after her, a flood of bodies that pushed her toward the bed. She was fighting, twisting, slapping at arms and chests, but there were too many hands. They were everywhere. Her shirt ripped off like toilet paper torn from her front down, tossed somewhere across the room. Her tits bounced free, firm and tanned, nipples hard as pebbles. Someone pinched one and she gasped, arching involuntarily.

“Fuck, look at those tits, ” a voice growled.

“Been waiting weeks to see these in person.”

Mouths bit the nipple piercings causing her to scream.

Andrew was stuck in the hallway, pressed against the wall by the sheer number of men pushing forward. By the time he squeezed into the bedroom doorway, Sweety was already on the bed, pinned on her back. Two men had her ankles, spreading her legs wide. They were using her bare little feet to Masturbate their cocks Two more held her wrists above her head. Her hands forced the grab their cocks. Her chest heaved, her tits jiggling with every panicked breath. All that remained were her tiny jean shorts and those baby blue panties, the last scraps of fabric between her and what was coming. So many hands felt her tight tanned body up it made her cum. A few poor men couldn't help it and blew their loads across her slutty denim shorts.

She was still fighting, but her hips were moving too, grinding against nothing. Her body knew what it wanted even if her mouth was still forming protests.

“Please, ” she whimpered, but her voice cracked with something that wasn’t fear.

A man with thick arms and a shaved head knelt between her legs. He didn’t bother with the button on her shorts. He just grabbed the denim at the seam and ripped. The fabric tore with a loud shredding sound, exposing the baby blue panties underneath, already completely soaked through with a large wet spot that told everyone in the room exactly how much she didn’t want this to stop.

“Goddamn, ” the man breathed, running a thumb over the wet fabric. “She’s fucking dripping.” it was like pressing a button.

Sweety moaned, her head falling back, her hips bucking up toward his hand. The men holding her laughed.

“She’s a fucking slut, ” one of them said, almost with admiration.

“Andrew said she needed gangbangs monthly. Monthly! Can you believe this tight little thing takes more dick than a porn star?”

The panties were pulled aside, not removed, just stretched to expose her waxed pussy, smooth and glistening. The man with the shaved head leaned down and slowly ran his tongue from her asshole first poking it and then to her clit in one long, slow stroke. Her little star asshole puckered from the tongue. Sweety screamed, her back arching off the bed, her legs trying to close but held wide by the men at her ankles. He did it again, slower, and she sobbed with pleasure, her whole body trembling."Andre, she screamed help me!"

Andrew watched from the doorway, his own cock aching in his jeans, as the first man lined himself up. No condoms he shouted.. No hesitation. Just the fat head of his dick pressing against her opening, then sliding in with a wet, obscene sound that made Sweety cry out and clench around him.

“Oh fuck, she’s tight, ” the man grunted, sinking deeper.

Sweety’s back sunk into the mattress with a soft thump, her arms pinned above her head. The men at her feet were already grunting, their cocks pumping her legs as they pressed her ankles together. She felt the wet, stringy heat of their cum shoot up her legs, pooling below her knees. They groaned, let go of her ankles and two more took their placesinstantly, like a revolving door of hard flesh.

She didn’t have time to catch her breath. The next cock shoved into her pussy, stretching her wide, while another prodded at her asshole. Sweety gasped, her toned stomach flexing as they pushed in simultaneously. The double penetration sent a shockwave through her, and she came almost immediately, a whimpering moan ripping from her throat. Her legs trembled, cum-soaked hands were everywhere—gripping her small, firm tits, pinching her nipples until they were raw, sliding over her sweat-slick abs. She was a playground, and these men were taking turns on every piece of equipment.Andrew watched really fucking turned on.

Andrew stood near the foot of the bed, his dick in his fist, stroking lazily as he watched. He loved this part—the chaos, the desperation in her eyes, the way her body betrayed her with orgasm after orgasm. “Fill her up, ” he shouted, his voice cutting through the grunts and wet slaps of skin. “Every fucking hole. Don’t stop until she’s dripping and begging for a rest.” Two men near the dresser caught his attention. They were fighting over her tattered jean shorts, the ones she wore today frayed at the edges and soft from wear. One guy yanked them from the other, pressed them to his face, inhaled deep, and then came all over the denim. The second man snatched them back, added his own load, and they both laughed, tossing the sticky shorts onto a chair. There for Sweety to wear another day. Andrew’s grin widened. He imagined her pulling those on tomorrow, the dried cum crusting against her thighs, a secret only he’d know.

Other men found her massive little running shorts collection. Many of the shorts received cum. Others were taken as trophy jerk rags later on. Some were torn by the horny animals.

Hours bled together. Sweety lost count of the cocks—some thick and curved, others long and veiny, a few so big they made her scream. They fucked her relentlessly, in every hole, sometimes two at a time in her pussy, stretching her beyond reason. Load after load of hot cum filled her, until her flat stomach had a slight, unnatural swell. When a cock pulled out of her ass, a glob of white oozed onto the mattress, joining the growing puddle beneath her. Her pussy was no better—a sloppy, gaping mess that squirted every time a new dick rammed inside. She was a head-to-toe soaked cum sponge, her hair matted with it, her skin glazed like a donut. All she could do was moan, her voice hoarse, her body spent. Her jaw sore.

Then, as if the universe decided she hadn’t had enough, a fresh batch of men filed in. Ten, maybe twenty of them, their eyes hungry, their cocks already hard. They surrounded the bed, and Sweety’s glazed-over gaze found Andrew. She looked at him with those big, fucked-out eyes—so cute, so utterly wrecked—and he just nodded. The new attention jolted her. A cock slammed into her mouth, another into her cum-filled pussy, and her body convulsed. She squirted so hard it sprayed across the torso of the man pounding her, and she came louder than she had all night, a scream that dissolved into a pathetic whimper. Andrew came the first of many times.

They used her like a cum dumpster, flipping her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up, taking turns in her ass while her face pressed into the wet sheets. The mattress squished beneath her, saturated with a cocktail of bodily fluids. She lost all sense of time, drifting in and out of a haze where the only constants were the rhythmic pounding and the warmth of fresh cum flooding her insides. Her orgasms stacked, one triggering the next, until she was just a quivering, moaning mess.

Eventually, the last man grunted his release, pulled out, and wiped his dick so slowly down her trembling thigh. He had given her so so much cum. The most. He sat there for a minute and then told her what he wanted to do to her another time. Sweety was exhausted as he traced the back of her body with his right hand. Across her buttocks and between her legs. He somehow knew Sweety, 's favorite peril was when she ran and got it hard. The perv had at some point pulled her new little Nike pink shorts out of her dresser with the matching pink tank top. He had found her $400 shoes and little matching pink socks. He had placed them together beside her face on the bed in a neat pile. He then fingered her sopping asshole and rubbed his cock with the other hand as he told her a story of what he wanted. He would be at the house waiting when Sweety finished her run, all tired and sweaty. Her boyfriend Andrew would be tied to a chair in the bedroom. Forced to watch him carry little Sweety to the room fighting and kicking over his shoulder. Sweety would be tied to the bed posts and have her little shorts and panties ripped off. Eaten in front of poor Andrew. First her pussy slowly and then flipped over for her yummy ass. A kink of his. He would keep her runners and socks and tank top on. He would then fuck her in front of her helpless boyfriend for hours every which way. Even though this was somewhat depraved along with the asshole fisting it made Sweety cum again. The man ejaculated on her running clothes. Wear those next time he told her. He got up and left. The room grew quiet except for Sweety’s ragged breathing. She lay sprawled on the cum-soaked mattress,. Cum dripped from her holes, pooled in the small of her back, and matted her hair to the pillow. She was alone now, Andrew long gone, probably off to brag to someone about the show. There was a video. How would he have reacted if he had heard that story she wondered?

Sweety shifted, wincing at the soreness, and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the dark TV screen across the room. She looked like a glazed pastry left out in the rain. A weak laugh bubbled up from her chest. She’d learned something tonight—something about her limits, or maybe about how much she didn’t have any. For now, though, all she could do was moan softly into the damp sheets, her fingers weakly tracing the distended curve of her belly. She’d deal with the laundry tomorrow. She spied her jean shorts in the chair. They would need some mending and were going to be a crunchy fucking mess. Just the thought of those made her pussy tingle. She also thought about the man having his way with her in front of poor helpless Andrew. She masturbated once more wondering if that would happen? Would the man do things to Andrew then her? Sweety just could not get enough!

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