My Gooner Best Friends Made Me A Cum Dumpster Practice Girl 03: Eric (Patreon)

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Chapter 3: Eric

Our gooner palace was out of commission one night.

Kale's parents hosted a big family thing that weekend, aunts and uncles and little cousins taking over the whole house, air beds set up in the basement, and so the spot was unavailable for the first time all summer. Nobody discussed taking a night off from our shared addiction. Nobody even floated it as a joke. After weeks of doing it every single chance we got, skipping one didn't occur to any of us as a real option. We all needed it by now, and that included me. My ass was still sore pretty much every morning, but I had learned to control it, wanting more and more.

I biked to Dylan's house, our substitute wack shack for the night, and I was half hard the whole way, standing up on the pedals because sitting pressed directly on the ache in my hole.

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Dylan's room was basically the opposite of Kale's basement. A small bedroom with a queen-sized bed that didn't really fit in there, and there was barely enough floor for the three of us, and a door with one of those push-button handles that popped open on its own sometimes. He had a million stories of getting walked in on while jerking it, so there was risk here.

And his older brother, Eric was home.

He was right down the hall, the same Eric whose fleshlight had been "not available" for us, which led to everyone deciding that my butt was a good substitute. His music was thumping through the wall, a muffled bass line I could feel faintly in the headboard when I sat down on the bed.

Doing it quietly changed everything. We put a random live streamer on his TV to try to cover the sound without giving ourselves away. At Kale's we could grunt and talk and let the couch bang against the wall, but here I lay face-down on the bed, Kale gently lining up with my ass, trying not to make the frame creak while Dylan pulled off his sock and shoved it in my mouth to help me keep quiet. Kale worked himself in slowly, and every time a sound tried to climb out of me I bit down harder on the cotton, tasting Dylan's feet.

Kale kept one hand planted next to my head, and when I whimpered too loudly on a deep push he moved his palm over my mouth. It was warm and a little damp and holding everything in while his hips kept their rhythm. Dylan knelt near the headboard stroking himself, watching the door more than he watched us.

The bed frame was a snitch. It creaked on certain strokes, some angle of weight that set it off, and whenever it did all three of us stopped breathing at once, Kale buried in me, his heartbeat tapping against my back, Dylan's fist frozen mid-stroke. We held still until we knew the house was quiet, and he started again more carefully.

I figured out quickly that the sneaking was making it better. I think we all realized it about the same time, without saying it. Every push felt heavier with nobody allowed to talk, and their breathing was more in the moment, even less inhibited than usual. I leaked a puddle into Dylan's blanket. I had never been harder in my life, and I hadn't touched myself once.

The sock fell out of my mouth right when I was in the middle of a groan. And it was a loud one. Eric's music cut off.

"Was that just a coincidence?" I whispered, and Kale socked my shoulder, shushing me wordlessly.

The music hadn't faded out, there was no next song, it just stopped, and the bass quit humming in the headboard, and the hallway on the other side of the door sat dead silent. Kale stopped balls deep in me and held there, throbbing. Nobody moved, except for the tensing in my ass as I instinctively tried to milk him with my body.

My heart hammered against the bed and I could feel Kale's doing the same against my back. Dylan stared at that push-button handle.

We heard nothing. His music never came back on. Down the hall a door opened, and after a moment it closed, and all three of us relaxed at once, Kale's chest sinking against my back, Dylan's shoulders dropping, my body unclenching around Kale on its own.

"He was just checking," Dylan whispered. "He's probably beating off right now."

"Using his fleshlight," I grumbled into the pillow.

"Glad we have ours," Kale whispered, and he gave me a jocular kiss on the cheek, just a little joke, and started pumping into me again.

Eric burst in. No knock, no warning creak, the push-button handle popped and the door swung wide open and smacked the wall, and all three of us jumped and grabbed for the blanket at the same time. It was useless. It covered one of my legs. Kale was balls deep in me and everybody in that room knew it, his hand still on my hip, Dylan kneeling by the headboard with himself in his fist, me face-down in nothing but a tee shirt with the sock lying wet beside my head.

"Woah," Eric said, "I didn't expect THAT."

He filled the doorway, taller than Dylan, and with a wider body, muscular and defined, with a broad chest. He had the same hair as Dylan but buzzed short, and a similar face, standing there in basketball shorts and nothing else. Nobody breathed. The streamer kept chattering away on the TV, way too loud now, and for a second the room felt genuinely ugly, like friendships could die in here, like this could be all over town by morning.

"You guys are gay?" His face had something mean in it, and confused, his eyes jumping between Dylan and Kale, then settling on me.

"No," Dylan said. "Just... fuckin around."

"Really?" Eric said, and he stepped in and shut the door behind him.

"You should've just lent me your fleshlight again," Dylan said.

Eric chuckled as he crossed the sparse area of the room, around the foot of the bed, and stood over me where I still lay face-down with Kale buried in me. Up close he smelled like deodorant, but also sweat, and his shoulders blocked half the TV light. He looked over the whole scene of us slowly, at where me and Kale were joined, his tongue poking into his cheek, Dylan holding his long, hard dick next to us.

"You wouldn't have had to use this guy," he said, and he spanked me right on the butt, a flat loud smack that made Kale flinch more than me. His hand stayed on me after, warm and heavy, covering the whole cheek, smiling down at me.

"Or should I?" he said. His fingers sank in and squeezed, and nobody said a word, and I felt my body clench around Kale on its own.

Kale pulled out of me and backed off the bed, without a word. Eric dropped his basketball shorts, climbed up behind me, and pushed in where Kale had just been, and he was thicker, heavy enough that the frame creaked under all of us on his first slow push. I moaned into the pillow and he pressed my head down, dominantly, taking control with one wide hand as he started pumping slowly, but deeply, taking his time.

Kale shuffled up the bed on his knees and knelt by my face, and I opened my mouth for him before he even asked, his thickness settling heavily onto my tongue, salty and warm and familiar by now. Dylan lifted my free hand off the blanket and wrapped it around himself, long and hot in my fist, and I stroked him as well as I could from that angle, my knuckles brushing his stomach. So that was all three of them on me at once, my two best friends and one older one each taking what they wanted from me, and all I had to do was stay put and take it. 

Every heavy push from Eric rolled through my whole body, feeding me forward onto Kale, deeper into my throat than I would have dared on my own, and the same motion dragged my fist up Dylan in rhythm. Eric set the pace for all three of them without knowing it. My eyes watered. My jaw stretched around Kale, and when he pulled back to give me a breath, Dylan leaned in and took his turn at my mouth, aggressive as ever, and I took him too.

They rotated on me after that. Whenever one of them wanted a change he tapped the next guy and they traded ends, Kale pulling out of my mouth so Dylan could push in, Eric giving up his spot behind me to come around the bed and stand at my face, still warm and wet from me. I quit keeping track of who was where and took whoever filled me, the blanket damp under my stomach, my jaw stretched sore, the deep ache in me building every time a new weight settled over my back.

At one point Dylan grabbed me and rolled me on top of him. Having nothing in my ass felt strange at that moment, and I quickly lined his dick up with my hole and sat down on it, leaning forward as I let him fill me up. I had never been in an active position like that before, so I just sat there, feeling him fill me, waiting for the next thing to happen.

It was about at that point that Eric apparently decided that taking turns wasn't enough.

"My buddy showed me this trick," Eric said behind me, and the bed dipped as he climbed back on, his knees bracketing Dylan's legs under me. The trick, it turned out, was literally just putting it in at the same time as Dylan.

"No way," Kale whispered from the side of the bed. "No way that fits."

Eric pressed a palm flat between my shoulder blades and folded me down onto Dylan's chest, slowly, until our stomachs touched and Dylan's breath hit my neck. I felt him line himself up above where Dylan already filled me, blunt heat nudging at skin that was already stretched full. It did not seem like both of them could fit. Nobody asked my opinion.

"Relax, little man," Eric said quietly, and he pushed forward until the blunt heat of him slid in alongside Dylan.

The stretch burned hotter than anything they had done to me yet, hotter than the first time Kale opened me up over his couch arm, a slow splitting pressure that twisted my fingers into the pillow by Dylan's head. I breathed out hard through my nose. Dylan held completely still under me, wide-eyed, staring up past my head, at nothing, just feeling what was happening at his dick. My body resisted, it threw a tantrum internally, but I braced, and my hole eventually gave. Both of them slowly settled into me, two rock hard dicks, throbbing at different times, alive inside me at once. I was so full I could do nothing but hang there with my mouth open against Dylan's shoulder.

I guess the angle was genuinely difficult, because Eric adjusted twice and swore under his breath before he found it, so technically that counted as a skill.

"You ok?" Dylan whispered, right next to my ear. His voice came out thin.

I nodded into his neck. The thrill had already beaten out the burn, that stuffed, impossible fullness pulsing every time either of them twitched, and I pushed back for more.

Eric provided the momentum at first, their legs tangled behind me, and I felt them both pressed tightly against each other inside me. I lost all sense of physical dimension as Dylan began adding his own thrusts, timed different than Eric's, hitting random spots, moving my organs around, back and forth.

Dylan froze suddenly inside me, just as Eric picked up the pace of his thrusting to a new level. 

"No, fuck, don't..." Dylan started, and I understood halfway through the sentence what he was objecting to, that he was about to bust while pressed right up against Eric, inside me. It was too late. Every stroke Eric took dragged along the length of him too, the two of them sliding against each other with me stretched tightly around both, like they were sharing a fleshlight. Dylan grabbed at my waist, his fingers overlapping with Eric's on my hips, and he throbbed hard, squirting heat deep into me in fat pulses, his face scrunched up below mine. Eric chuckled somewhere behind me, hands gripping deeper onto my hips under Dylan's grasp, and he never slowed down, pumping sweet Dylan's load deeper into me with every push, and making the rest spill out onto both of their balls as they rubbed against each other.

Dylan rolled out from under me still twitching, and Eric took his place on his back, pulling me down onto him by the hips. Kale climbed up behind me before I had even settled, pressed in alongside Eric's thickness, and I got even more total girth than before, the stretch climbing past what I thought I could take. I hung my head and groaned into Eric's chest while the two of them worked out a rhythm, alternating pushes that kept me permanently full, one dragging back while the other sank deep, no empty second anywhere in it.

They both got seriously into it, Eric grinning up at me, Kale breathing hotly between my shoulder blades, and my own hardness bounced between my stomach and Eric's abs, untouched, aching, leaking a string onto him already.

"Jerk me off," I said to Dylan. It was the first time I had asked any of them for anything all summer.

He grabbed me immediately, without comment, his fist still warm from his own dick, and I was feeling nirvana in seconds. I squirted all over Eric's abs in long pulses, my whole body clamping down on both of them at once, and Eric swore under me while Kale laughed into my neck.

And I knew immediately after the orgasm peaked, that my ass had finally hit its limit. I collapsed down, and when they eased out of me everything back there felt loose and used and hot, and I slid off the bed onto my knees on the carpet, because like everyone else in that room, my brain had been rotted by porn, and I knew my place. 

Kale and Eric stood over me, and I knelt up straight for them with my mouth open, my knees pressing into the carpet. They stroked themselves roughly, tapping their heavy tips on my cheeks and lips, warm little slaps that left wet spots wherever they touched, and they let their heads meet on my tongue, gooners like me who couldn't imagine any other way to finish it at this point. Kale's fist blurred on himself while Eric stroked more slowly, squeezing, breathing hard through his nose above me. They started saying dirty things, working themselves up toward orgasm. "Pretty girl." "Slut." "Cum guzzling whore." "Take it." Every word pulsed down into me somewhere below my stomach, and holding still for it felt like pure instinct by now. Dylan sat on the edge of the bed with his shoulder warm against mine, watching from up close, and a frothy load of his cum slipped out of me onto his carpet.

Dylan got hard again, and he stood up to join them, three of them now in a semicircle over my face. They took turns pushing into my throat, deeply, each one holding me down a beat longer than the last, and my eyes watered until the TV light blurred. 

Eric seemed to take a lead with it naturally. He pressed my head back down whenever I came up for a breath, and he grabbed Kale and Dylan each by the ass with one wide palm and shoved them into me deeper, back and forth, like he was coaching it in a way, guiding their bodies into me, and teaching me to be an even better hole for them. Having Eric in the room changed everything about the energy. It was so much more intense than before. In my head I thought, nothing is off limits anymore.

Eric held Dylan's ass tight, squeezing it enough to make him flinch as he pressed me into him by the back of my head. It was like he was pressing two dolls together, making them kiss, except it was my head and a dick going down my throat. I caught a glimpse of his face, and he was thrilled to do it.

I grabbed Dylan when my head was released, finding a second wind of energy, and stroked him as fast and as hard as my arm could manage, my fist a blur over him, base to tip, his balls flopping everywhere while he swayed above me. He shuddered hard, grabbed my head with both hands, and blinded me, a hot stripe right in my eye, before he pushed himself into my mouth and let the rest of his load pulse out onto my tongue in warm, salty bursts.

Dylan plopped down next to me, watching closely again, just as Kale announced he was "there". He grunted through his teeth, and squirted across my tongue in hot stripes. Eric followed right behind him, heavier pulses that overshot my open mouth. Some caught Dylan on the cheek, and a stray rope striped his thigh where he sat with his shoulder against mine, and he said nothing about it, just kept watching from a few inches away. I swallowed what I could, thick and salty and warm, and wiped my chin with the back of my wrist while the three of them caught their breath above me.

We were quiet for a minute as our bodies settled down, the energy drained from us.

"Was I a good practice girl?" I asked with a rough, beaten voice.

"Better than most," Eric said. He didn't explain who the others were, and nobody asked.

He stood up, stepped into his underwear, scooped his basketball shorts off the floor, and walked out, and the push-button handle clicked shut behind him.

Kale and Dylan and I cleaned up with a towel from Dylan's hamper, passing it between the three of us, wiping stomachs and thighs and the damp patches I had leaked onto his blanket and carpet. My legs wobbled when I stood up, and everything back there pulsed hotly with every step, a stuffed, tender feeling that didn't fade. 

Dylan kicked his shorts into a corner, flipped the streamer off the TV, and booted up his console, and we played his video games after that. 

"We haven't done actual video games in forever," I said. 

"Yeah," Kale grunted, "Let's do it." 

The three of us settled onto the strip of carpet between the bed and the wall. Dylan handed me the good controller without me asking. I sat on a pillow, legs crossed, my hands still smelling like all three of them, and we stayed up way too late trash talking each other, the sock and towel drying somewhere in the blankets.