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Chapter 4: Turning into a Sleepover

Nobody answered Grant directly, but the guys quietly giggled, looked at each other, and shifted around a bit, mostly still naked or having put on their underwear. I stayed facing away from Grant while he played with my butt, making it jiggle a bit, the taste of the last guy’s load still on my tongue. I could hear butts shift on the couch. The giggling was quiet, and died down in a second.

“Well, I think my throat could use a break,” I said, my voice betraying my nervousness as I got down onto all fours on the carpet.

I hadn’t planned any of it. My body kind of just did that at the slightest hint from Grant. I had gone this far, and when he suggested it, I wanted to feel it inside me, become one of the girls in the videos we all watched on the internet. I looked back at Grant over my shoulder and I didn't say anything and he didn't say anything and the room went very still.

Grant got up off the couch, down onto his knees behind me as his hands returned to my ass.

He knelt close to me and I looked down, closing my eyes, my heart pounding, and I felt him pull my ass open a bit, and then his thumbs were pressing inward delicately, inspecting the tensility of my body, spreading me further open, slowly. I heard him spit before I felt the warm wetness land on my hole. I braced as I felt his thumb work it in, and then he was pressing forward and the room was completely silent except for the porn still playing on the TV.

"Oh," Grant said, his voice dropping to a strained tone. He pushed in further and I felt the pressure pangs up through my whole body as his breath caught. "It feels like a pussy."

He pushed too far and I made a sound and my arms buckled slightly.

"Wait," I said. "It’s too much, dude."

He pulled back without hesitation, and I exhaled in relief. He was listening to me at least, not mad with horniness. His hands stayed on my hips but held still. 

"Sorry," he said, quietly, just for me.

He stayed there for a moment, holding me, and then he pulled out all the way and sat back, and I felt the absence of him and the relief of it at the same time.

Tyler was already moving. “I’ll do it.”

I closed my eyes, accepting the next phase of this impromptu experiment. Tyler was lean and pale and his skin had gone pink from his chest to his throat, flushed even more than previously, and he looked at me with an expression that was slightly casual, but if you knew him you knew meant that he was nervous and trying to act cool. He knelt behind me and took his time, going slower than I expected from Tyler, his long fingers gripping my hips lightly.

"I've never," he started, and stopped.

"I know," I said.

He pushed in and exhaled through his nose, long and controlled, trying not to react. He failed at not reacting. A low, involuntary sound came out of him, and his hips pressed forward slowly until his balls were pressing against my body.

"Okay," he said breathily, mostly to himself. "Okay."

The rest of the guys watched as he started moving and a drop of sweat fell from his jaw onto my back, and I felt the heat of him above me, his narrow chest hovering, his pale thighs warm against the backs of mine every time his skin slowly met my body again. He reached under me with one hand and found my dick, wrapping his fingers around it loosely, not working it, just holding it, like he wanted to give something back while he took his pleasure from me. His grip tightened when he got close and I felt him finish with a long, shuddering push forward. His dick swelled, and it was almost too much again, but I knew it was just a climax, and he stayed there until it was done, pulling his steel shaft from me.

Mark went next, pulling me up from all fours onto my knees, repositioning me against the couch with my arms up over the cushions, facing the TV. He stood behind me, stockier and lower to the ground than Tyler, his olive skin damp at his chest, his dark hair stuck to his forehead. He put both hands on my waist and pulled me back onto him, and where Tyler had been careful, Mark just held on, watching himself go in, making a sound like he'd been winded.

"Dude," he said, to no one.

"Good, or…?," Derek said from the couch.

"Good, dude," Mark said. "Very good."

He found a rhythm and one of his hands moved around to my stomach, sliding down, and he took me in his hand and stroked slowly while he moved, his thick fingers wrapping around me, and I dropped my head and watched his hand on me while his balls moved underneath, showing how deep he was inside me. I felt everything at once, his meat stretching me out slightly more than Tyler, his hips against me, his grip, the couch fabric under my forearms, the taste of all of them still layered on the back of my tongue from earlier. Mark was the most physical of all of them, present in his whole body, his chest coming down against my back at points, his breath in my ear, and he finished with both hands gripping my hips hard and pulling me into him, and I felt the heat of it all deep inside as he finished a couple minutes in.

When he pulled out, I felt it start to drip down my balls and my thigh, but I didn’t move to clean it up. It felt more right to just stay there, waiting for the next one to do me. It was starting to feel better then they were inside than when they pulled out, and I wanted it quick. 

Derek stood up from the couch, unfolding his long frame, and looked at me for a second before he moved. He had the most composed expression of anyone in the room, which had been true all night, but his eyes were tracking everything.

"I'm going in," he said, which made Mark laugh from the floor where he'd sat back down.

Derek was more methodical, like he had read a book on sex, kind of like the the way he'd been in my mouth earlier, and turned me over to lay me on my back on the carpet and folded my legs up so my knees almost met my shoulders. I looked up at him from below, watching his face as his tall body covered mine, his darker skin sheened with sweat, his arms bracketing my head. He looked down at me while he moved, keeping eye contact, which was more intimate than anything else that had happened so far and caught me off guard. His jaw was tight and his movements were controlled, and his long body on mine was its own specific weight and warmth compared to the others.

"This is insane," he said quietly, smiling as he continued looking at me, and I smelled the minty gum he was chewing.

"Yeah," I said.

He reached between us and wrapped his hand around me, stroking in time with his movement like the others had, and I felt my whole body tighten, and he watched my face while he did it like he wanted to see what happened. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he said as he squeezed my shaft tightly, his thrusts moving my whole body up and down. 

The previous loads had apparently lubricated my sore hole enough that he could go harder, pressing deeper than the others as he started to slam into me. 

I looked over at Grant, who watched me curiously as he slowly touched himself, keeping himself hard.

He finished inside me with his eyes still open, a long breath coming out of him, and he lowered his forehead to mine for a second before he pulled back.

I sat up and slumped against the couch.

I could feel all of them, warmth leaking out of me, my body loose and used and still tingling from deep in my core. The porn on the TV had flipping automatically to a new video. Someone had turned the volume up at some point. The guys who had finished were watching me, like they wanted to see when I would tap out. I could sense a mix of concern and confusion on their faces, the new experience doing something to all of us.

After a minute of rest, Grant leaned forward and put his hands under my knees and lifted my legs, and I looked up at him from the floor, and he looked back down at me, and his expression was different from the others. Not more serious exactly, just more present, like he was more than turned on, he was staring into my soul.

He pressed forward slowly and entered me, more slowly than the first time, and it felt like I had a completely different hole than the first time he tried. I was stretched and lubed with cum. He was watching my face, pausing when my expression changed, moving again when it settled. He was bigger than any of them and I felt every bit of it, and I breathed through it.

"Okay?" he said.

"Don't stop," I said.

He went long and slow, and more than any of the others, I wanted it deeply. The room around us had gone quiet to me, even with the porn playing and the guys chatting, the other guys watching without commentary now, the joking energy from earlier returning now that everyone had blown their loads. Grant's hands were on my thighs, his thumbs moving in slow circles as he worked himself to a deeper spot inside me, and he kept his eyes on my face the whole time, not performing for anyone else in the room, and he started to actually thrust his big meat..

The pressure built past anything I'd felt all night, past anything I'd felt before in my life, and somewhere in the middle of it my body peaked in a strange way. I felt warmth spread across my chest and thought I had started to cum, but it was a squirt of piss.

"Oh dang," I said. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok," Grant said, not stopping, not even slowing down.

I felt the shame turn my face red, my expression likely showing it even further.

"Man, it's cool," Tyler said from the couch, his voice easy, no edge to it.

"It happens," Mark said. “Probably normal.”

Derek nodded once, already reaching for someone's hoodie on the couch, folding it and placing it nearby without making a thing of it.

Grant kept his eyes on me and kept moving, and I stopped thinking about what had happened and let myself go back into it, and the shame dissolved into everything else. His stamina was its own specific thing, unhurried, nothing to prove. He just wanted to be there, inside me, for as long as it lasted.

It lasted a long time.

My body tightened from somewhere inside my gut, a deep internal pressure that built and built as Grant started going harder and harder on me, his skin starting to make wet, sweaty slapping sounds against me. Without my hands anywhere near myself, I felt little contractions build from my hole to my taint to my balls and the part of my dick deep inside myself. I heard my own breathing change and I just let it wash over me as I had a strong, body-wide orgasm radiate out of my crotch. Grant reacted with his body, feeling my hole contract on him rhythmically, and his pace shifted slightly, pushing into it.

I squirted onto my body without touching myself, and Grant looked down at my wet body as my hard rod and leaked onto my own stomach, my whole body rigid and then spasmed as I gripped Grant’s muscular back.

Grant followed a minute later, as I was winding down and just watching his body work, his hands gripping my thighs and pressing my legs back against me, his head dropping forward, a long low sound coming out of him as I felt the pulsing speed up, then slow down. He finished inside me, his deep load adding to the others, and he stayed there while it passed, his thumbs still moving in slow circles on my thighs.

When he pulled back I lay there on the carpet and took stock of my body. My knees were sore. My throat still ached. My hole was wrecked in a way that I understood was going to be with me for a while, maybe forever, but it was a deep, satisfying soreness that I already didn’t mind. I was leaking onto the carpet and although I tried to tighten my hole closed, I couldn't do anything about it.

"I’m wrecked," I said, to the ceiling.

"Same," Tyler said, from the couch, which made everyone laugh.

The guys were spent and loose, sweat drying on our skin, and exhausted warmth spreading among the group. We had used their bodies completely. Mark had pulled his underwear back on. Derek was stretched out on the couch with his arm over his face. Tyler was eating chips and looking at his phone.

I got up slowly and walked to the bathroom on my shaky legs which were working about sixty percent as well as usual. I stood in front of the sink, wiping my body and cleaning off the random fluids for a few minutes, feeling the warm water, not thinking about anything in particular, adjusting to the aches around various parts of me.

I dried off and walked back out to the basement, still naked.

Four heads turned toward me.

The TV was on some regular TV show. Someone had found a blanket. The chips were being passed around. They looked like a group of guys at the end of a normal Friday night, with slightly less clothing than normal, which was almost funny, and also somehow comforting.

I looked at them looking at me.

"Should we make it a sleepover?" I said.

Grant smiled first. Then everyone else did.