I stood outside the polished glass doors of my usual gym, a sleek corporate temple of chrome and LED lighting, and stared at the laminated sign taped to the inside: Closed for a Refurb! Reopening in 6 Weeks. A low growl of frustration rumbled in my wet throat. Six weeks without my routine? Six weeks without the subtle thrill of being watched while I did squats in my tightest leggings? Unacceptable.
I knew exactly where I’d go. The old McComb’s Gym on the Falls Road was a relic with stained concrete floors, clanking iron weights that hadn’t been replaced since the ’80s, and a clientele of weathered bricklayers, boxers, and the odd desperate housewife who didn’t care about scented towels. I’d driven past it a hundred times, always wrinkling my nose. But today, I saw it as an opportunity.
Back in my apartment, I prepared myself with the methodical precision of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. I stripped naked in front of the full-length mirror, running a hand over the soft curves of my whore, mid-thirties body that was still firm from years of dedication, but with that delicious hint of maturity around my hips.
“I reached for the large silicone butt plug, which is one of my favorites that was bought from The Dildo Hub after seeing a scene where a 60-year-old housewife stretched out her mangled fuck hole on camera. I wanted that same feeling of fullness. It was a blunt black bulb with a flared base, and slicked it up with lube. Bending over the bed, I pressed it against my heavily used asshole, pushing slowly until my sphincter stretched around the widest part and the plug settled deep inside with a soft pop. The pressure made my eyes roll to the back of my head and caused a gasp to slip out of my plump cock sucking lips, a familiar comfort, the feeling of being filled even before the workout began.
Next came the cunt pump. I sat on the edge of the bed, spreading my thighs as I placed the clear acrylic cylinder over my already-swollen cunt. The pump handle worked with a rhythmic suck-suck-suck, drawing the soft pink tissue outward, engorging my labia until they puffed out like a ripe peach.
When I finally removed the cup, my camel toe was a thick, obvious ridge pushing against the fabric of my cunt-pink leggings. I zipped up a neon-pink sports bra until it was tight, showing every contour of my nipples, and slipped into a thin, white tank top that left nothing to the imagination. No panties. The butt plug’s base was a faint outline against my yoga pants, but I didn’t care, let them see.
Table of Contents
A Cum-Hungry Slut Desperate For Greasy Gym Dick
The drive to McComb’s took fifteen minutes. The gym’s front door was a battered metal frame with a hand-painted sign: Members Only, £5 a session. Inside, the air was thick with sweat, chalk dust, and the metallic tang of old iron. The few old men grunting on the benches barely glanced at me; they were used to their own world. I made a beeline for the leg press, loaded it heavily, and began my booty-building set.
I hadn’t counted on the way the plug moved with every rep. Each time I pushed, the bulb pressed deeper against my inner walls, and the friction from the leggings rubbing over my pumped cunt sent electric jolts through my clit. I started moaning slowly, not even caring about how loud it would be through my headphones. Sweat glistened on my shoulders, dripped down between my tits, and soaked the thin tank top until it was translucent. My face was flushed, lips parted, eyes half-lidded.
It wasn’t long before two young black lads, maybe 19 or 20, caught my attention. They were working out nearby, lean, defined, with that raw muscle that only 18+ youth provide. One had short dreads, the other a clean buzz cut. I’d seen exactly their type defiled white pussy on infamous IR porn studios like Blacked. They kept stealing glances, trying to hide smiles. When I finished my set and bent over to adjust the weight, giving them an unobstructed view of the plug’s outline straining against my leggings, Dreads nudged Buzz Cut and whispered something.
Buzz Cut approached, clearing his throat. “Hey, uh, miss? You might wanna lower the weight a bit, yeah? Safer for your lower back.”
I straightened, smirking. “Oh yeah? You two think you know better than me?”
Dreads stepped up. “Just saying, you’re pushing hard. Impressive, though.” His eyes dropped to the prominent camel toe pushing through my damp sports leggings. “You train here often? Haven’t seen you here before”
“First time,” I said, wiping sweat from my brow. “My regular place is closed. This is… rustic, isn’t it?”
They laughed. The conversation flowed easily. They were students from Nigeria, studying engineering at Queen’s University, bored and horny in a cold city. I let my hand rest on my hip, arching my back just enough to make the tank top cling tighter to my tits.
“You know,” I said, lowering my voice, “I’ve been thinking about converting my spare room into a small home gym. Just a squat rack, some mats. But I don’t know the first thing about setting it up. Maybe you two could come by one night, take a look, give me some advice?”
They exchanged a glance, barely hiding their eagerness. “Absolutely. We’d love to.”
I gave them my address. They agreed to come that very evening. Seeing as my cunt was dripping violently and aching for fun, how convenient!
The Spare Room of Sin
By 8 PM, I’d showered and shaved my cunt until it was smooth as anything. I slipped into a bodystocking that raced from my thighs to my shoulder and allowed my tits to punch their way through the semi see through fabric. Then, to cover it, I changed into a silk robe that fell open at the slightest movement and readied the spare room.
The truth is that it wasn’t a spare room. It was my sanctuary, my gooning space, my fucking room. The walls were plastered with glossy posters of my favorite spit-soaked porn whores in impossible poses, their eyes inviting and their cunts gaping.
There was a low platform bed in the center, covered with a black bedsheet that had soaked up a lot of bodily fluids over the years. In the corner, a custom-built steel frame held an array of toys: dildos of every size, vibrators, a fucking machine, a glass butt plug set, nipple clamps, a paddle, and a leather strap-on harness. On the wall hung a large mirror, and on the floor, a stack of mats. It smelled of lube and sex. I left the door open and waited.
When they knocked, I opened the door wearing only the robe, tied loosely. “Hey, lads. Come in. Sorry, I’ve just got out of the shower and didn’t have time to get dressed”
”I grabbed a bottle of high-strength P0ppers and huffed violently, wailing like a banshee as it took effect and turned me feral. They fucked my ass in tandem, one thrusting when the other pulled back, a merciless double rhythm that had me screaming into the mattress.”
They stepped inside, their eyes roaming the apartment, neat, modern, until they reached the open door of the spare room. Dreads peered in first, his jaw going slack. “Whoa. This is… this is gonna be a gym?”
“Of a sort,” I said, letting the robe fall open to reveal my bodystocking-wrapped figure, the plug still nestled in my ass, my cunt still puffy from the pump, my nipples hard. “It’s my private playground. But don’t worry, I didn’t bring you here for advice.”
Buzz Cut swallowed hard but still smirked confidently. “What did you bring us here for?”
I walked past them, hips swaying, and climbed onto the platform bed, kneeling, my ass presented to them. The plug’s base gleamed in the low light. “I want you both to fuck me. Hard. However you want. I want to be wrecked. Or you can both fuck off home and wank yourselves off if you’re not up for it.”
It didn’t take more than a few seconds for their clothes to hit the floor. Their bodies were 18+ young, taut, cocks already hard and thick, darker than my pale Irish whore skin, veins prominent. I reached out, wrapping my hand around Dreads’ shaft, then Buzz Cut’s, stroking them both. “Mmm, you boys have been waiting for this, haven’t you? All those glances in the gym. You knew I was a whore the moment I walked in, didn’t you?”
“Everyone at the gym knew,” Buzz Cut said, his voice rough. “We were talking about you when you had your headphones in. We saw the plug, saw the way you moaned. The whole place knew you were a nasty MILF looking for cock. I wouldn’t be surprised if your gym wasn’t even closed for a refurb.”
I moaned at the words. “Then give it to me. I don’t want it to be romantic. Fuck me like a white gutter slut. I’m on the pill as well, so please cum in my cunt.”
An Interracial Double Anal Party
They took turns. Dreads pushed me onto my back, spread my legs, and rammed his cock into my cunt without preamble. I cried out, wet, ready, but still a shock of fullness. Buzz Cut moved behind my head, pushing his cock against my lips. I opened my mouth, let him slide in, tasting the salt of his skin. The rhythm was brutal: one cock hammering my pussy, the other fucking my throat. I gagged but kept going, tears streaming from my eyes, makeup starting to run.
After twenty minutes of merciless interracial pounding, they flipped me over. I was on all fours, ass in the air, the plug still lodged deep. Buzz Cut pulled it out slowly, letting my asshole wink open, then pushed his cock straight in. I screamed, a raw, animal sound. Dreads joined him at the other side, lining up his cock beside Buzz Cut’s.
“You want both? In your ass?” Dreads spat on my gaping hole, rubbing it in.
“Yes,” I sobbed. “Fucking fill me. DP me. DAP me. Ruin my ass, please, I need it, I fuckin’ need it.”
They pressed together, two thick shafts trying to fit into one small hole. I bit the stained black bedsheet as they pushed, my asshole burning, stretching, splitting around them. They managed it, halfway, then fully, their cocks sliding side by side inside my rectum. I could feel every ridge, every pulse. The pain blurred into pleasure, then into a kind of liquid ecstasy that made my whole body tremble.
I grabbed a bottle of high-strength P0ppers and huffed violently, wailing like a banshee as it took effect and turned me feral. They fucked my ass in tandem, one thrusting when the other pulled back, a merciless double rhythm that had me screaming into the mattress. My cunt was dripping, my clit rubbing against the rubber sheet with every jolt. Soon I felt the familiar pressure building, the knot coiling low in my belly.
“I’m gonna cum,” I gasped. “You fuckin’ bastards, I’m gonna squirt. Please… please can I cum?!”
“Do it, you filthy bitch,” Buzz Cut growled. “Piss all over your own fuckin’ floor.”
And I did. Just before the orgasm ripped through my cheap white body, I huffed the p0ppers again, and I unleashed a guttural moan as a gush of clear liquid sprayed from my cunt, splashing the sweat-soaked sheet, the wall, my own thighs. I kept squirting as they kept fucking, wave after wave, until I was a trembling mess. I had been turned into a perverse fuckin’ fountain. I wished they were filming me as I’d have uploaded it to my account on AdultFriendFinder!
They pulled out, disgust and amusement mingling on their faces. “Look at that mess,” Dreads said, pointing to the puddle on the floor. “Clean it up, bitch. Use your mouth.”
Without hesitation, I dropped my face to the sheet, my tongue snaking out to lap up my own sordid puddle of squirt. It tasted faintly sweet, slightly bitter, and I drank it all, slurping until the sheet was dry.
It’s Not Fuckin’ Over Yet
These black studs weren’t done. They pulled me back onto the bed, this time both aiming for my ass again. I grabbed a thick dildo from the nearby rack, a hyper-realistic, veined monster with a suction cup base, and pressed it to my mouth. As they started fucking my ass again, I shoved the dildo down my throat, gagging violently. My body convulsed, and each gag made my asshole clench, milking their cocks with rhythmic, tight contractions.
“Fuck, she’s squeezing like mad,” Dreads groaned. “Keep gagging, you nasty white bitch.” I moaned like a raspy whore and sounded like Kelly Wells in her prime!
I did. I fucking deep-throated that dildo until tears and drool covered my face, until the realistic black balls were flush with my chin and I couldn’t breathe, and the double sensation, their cocks in my ass, the dildo in my throat, sent me into another squirting orgasm. This time, they didn’t stop. They drove deeper, faster, and with a final grunt, both came simultaneously, hot ropes of cum shooting deep into my shitter and drenching my sordid bowels.
They pulled out, their cocks slick with lube, a double dose of spunk and my own cunt gush. “Open your fuckin’ mouth,” Buzz Cut ordered. I opened my mouth, and they pressed their heads against my lips, letting my tongue clean them. I swallowed every drop of their mixed seed and lube, not missing a single smear.
Then they stood, wiped my spit off their cocks on the bedsheet, and dressed without speaking to me, just talking to each other about how filthy I was. Dreads paused at the door. “You’ve got a gorgeous set of holes, maybe we’ll come back.”
I tried to thank them, but I couldn’t find the words. I was lying on the floor, legs splayed, asshole gaping, cum leaking out in a slow, milky stream. As the door clicked shut, I reached between my legs, scooped a handful of the warm, thick liquid out of my own ass, and brought it to my mouth. I slid it onto my tongue, let it coat my throat, and swallowed.
Then I did it again. And again. Until my ass was empty and my belly was full, and I was nothing but a writhing, cum-drunk mess on the floor of my gooning room, waiting for the next pair of hungry eyes to find me.
