I stayed on my knees longer than I planned, the cold concrete biting through the thin blanket but I barely felt it. My jaw ached deeply now, a dull throb that matched the desperate pulse between my legs. c*m coated my lips in layers—some fresh and slick, some already drying and tacky—mixing with my saliva and lipstick into a filthy gloss. The mistletoe above the hole looked ridiculous in the dim colored lights, swaying gently as another draft whispered through the basement. Upstairs, the party carried on: laughter, clinking glasses, that same looping playlist of holiday music with its cheerful lyrics mocking what was happening down here.
The sixth c**k pushed through—average length but incredibly thick, veins bulging, the head already shiny with pre-c*m. I didn’t hesitate. I wrapped my li
