I showed up at the house party thinking it was just drinks and maybe some flirting. Twenty-two years old, never touched another guy, but the porn tabs on my phone told the real story every night. The host, a thick-built dude named Marcus, kept refilling my glass and grinning like he knew something. By midnight the living room had thinned out until only six of us remained: me, Marcus, and four other guys who looked like they lifted weights for a living. The door clicked shut. Marcus locked it.
“Strip,” he said, voice flat and dirty. No smile now. “You came here looking for cock. Time to get it.”
My hands shook but I pulled my shirt off. Pants followed. Boxers hit the floor and my dick stood straight up, already leaking. They laughed low, the sound rough. Marcus stepped in first, grabbed my jaw, and shoved two fingers into my mouth.
“Suck. Get them wet. You’re gonna need the spit.”
I did it. Salty skin, thick fingers pushing back on my tongue. Someone else—tall, shaved head—moved behind me and spread my ass cheeks. A thumb dragged over my hole, dry at first, then pressing. “Tight little virgin cunt,” he muttered. “Gonna open this bitch up.”
They didn’t waste time. Marcus pushed me onto the couch face-down, ass up. Lube snapped open. Cold slick poured down my crack and two fingers shoved straight in. I grunted, the stretch burning. He worked them fast, scissoring, twisting, finding that spot that made my cock jerk and drip onto the cushion. “Fuck, he’s sucking them in already,” someone said. A third finger joined and I moaned like a whore.
The first cock that replaced the fingers was Marcus’s. Thick, veined, no rubber. He lined up and pushed. The head popped past my ring and I saw stars. Inch after inch sank in while I clawed the couch. “Breathe,” he growled, then bottomed out. Balls deep in my ass on the first try. He started fucking immediately, long strokes that slapped skin. Every thrust knocked a grunt out of me. The others watched, stroking, calling out.
“Stretch that hole.”
“Make him scream.”
“Next load’s mine.”
Marcus fucked like he owned me. Deep, grinding, then pulling almost all the way out and slamming back. My untouched prostate lit up with every pass. Precum poured from my dick in a steady string. When he growled and unloaded, I felt every hot pulse flood my guts. He stayed buried until the last twitch, then pulled out slow. Cum leaked down my balls.
The shaved-head guy took his place without asking. His cock was longer, thinner, and it slid through the fresh cum like it belonged there. He grabbed my hips and jackhammered, the wet sounds filthy. Someone else climbed onto the couch in front of me, fed his dick into my mouth, and started fucking my throat in the same rhythm. I gagged, drooled, took it. Two holes used at once and my brain shorted out.
They rotated. Every guy dumped a load in my ass or down my throat. The third one flipped me onto my back, legs pushed to my chest, and fucked me missionary so he could watch my face while he bred me. Cum from the first two loads squelched out around his shaft. The fourth guy made me ride him, bouncing on that fat cock while the others slapped my ass and called me a cumdump. By the fifth, my hole was loose, puffy, and constantly leaking. They kept me there, passing me around, using the mess as lube. Someone shoved four fingers in alongside a cock and I came untouched, shooting across my own chest while they laughed and kept pounding.
Hours blurred. I swallowed two loads, took three more in my wrecked ass. When they finally let me up, cum ran down my thighs in thick rivulets. My hole twitched, empty and sore, still trying to clench around nothing. Marcus handed me a towel and a beer.
“Same time next week,” he said. “Bring that hungry cunt.”
I nodded, already knowing I would. My first time had turned me into exactly what they wanted: a sloppy, cum-filled gangbang slut. And I was hard again just thinking about it.
