Big Dicks

Blood Wine in ParisMy class was the first one to stray from the traditional Gulf Coast senior class trip. We saved, we fund-raised, many of us worked two jobs every summer leading into our senior year with the intent of swaying our school to allow the entirety of our class to get passports and fly to Paris, France for a week of excitement and fun. Our teachers hemmed and hawed at the idea, tallying up costs and lamenting that many of our students wouldn’t be able to afford such a lavish trip. That’s when we struck. We already had the funds for all 30 of our classmates as well as 6 teachers to cover the cost of a flight, hotel, and passport, plus enough money saved to allot a $300 – around €270 – per day spending budget for food and souvenirs for each person on the trip. It would be a lavish trip for everyone in our class and we worked together to ensure that. Of course, we didn’t want to tell our teachers that, aside from culture, history and cuisine, our true intent was to get to a country that allowed 18-year-olds to legally drink alcohol. It was, however, the culture, history and cuisine that we sold our teachers on.April came around quickly and with our passports and travel funds in hand we boarded our plane to Boston, and then our plane to Paris. With a total of a little over 9 hours of travel and an adjustment for time differences we touched down at approximately 2pm on an overcast day that threatened rain at any moment. We had tried our best to sleep on the plane, but turbulence and anxiousness of both our destination and knowing we were mostly flying over the Atlantic ocean kept most of us awake and white knuckling the arm rests, or clinging tightly to each other’s hands in a group effort to ease the fear. We made it down to the terminal and to our luggage, neatly arranged on a set of trolleys for us as a few airport workers helped us orient ourselves and find our way to the waiting shuttle buses to carry the exhausted American students to their hotel and tuck them away to adjust for their vacation. It was only a half-hour ride to the hotel and many sights could be seen from our bus windows, but those of us who hadn’t been able to sleep on the airplane now found ourselves out like a light.The rested students and our teachers checked us into the hotel, we had 12 rooms booked, 10 for students and 2 for teachers, each room slept 3 people comfortably between the double beds and pull-out couch. Once our rooms keys were delivered, our teachers came back to the bus to wake those of us who’d fallen asleep, a 45-minute nap in total, and then assigned our rooms to us. We came into a slight problem, in that we didn’t have the proper numbers to evenly divide the rooms among the genders that were present in our class (which boringly consisted of males and females of a CIS nature) out of 30 students, 16 were boys and 14 were girls.This meant we had four rooms that held 3 boys each, one room that held 4 boys, four rooms that held 3 girls each, and one room that held two girls, as the students had decided on their own. I was in the room with two girls, and we quickly discovered that instead of the double beds and pull-out couch that adorned the other rooms, this one was a single king bed. I was always a bit of an outcast. Even though I was accepted by my peers, it was evident that they didn’t know what to think of me. The boys were a bit terrified of me and the girls were largely jealous of the fact that I wasn’t resigned to existence after high school being limited to the role of wife and mother, a notion that had been ingrained in them since they could walk.My penchant for Tarot and the occult, and infallible knowledge of serial killers, probably didn’t help matters any. Which is probably why, by the end of that first night, my roommate found herself moving into one of the other rooms, leaving me in a room by myself. A king sized bed all to myself and a view of the Eiffel tower in the distance from my window. I had the last room on the row, a corner room with a doorway on a slant leading into it. I had two large windows, my bed faced them at an angle, giving me a grand view of the city. I could feel the energy of the room change as I lay in bed that first night and watched the lights glittering as I drifted off to sleep. Our first day in Paris had consisted of little more than a snack and dinner and hanging around the hotel as we got our bearings and ventured out onto the nearby streets. None of us strayed more than a block, I found a cute little occult shop across from a patisserie, where I snagged a couple of macarons, a brie and fig jam sandwich on a hearty brown bread, and tarte tatin, and spent most of the afternoon chatting with the little old lady behind the counter. She spoke fluent English, and I attempted my best French, but she mostly just laughed and told me to listen to the people around me and I would pick it up in no time. I shared my patisserie finds with her and she brought out a dark green bottle from under her counter and poured us each a glass of the nearly black liquid. It smelled of rotten fruit and I tipped my head to the side slightly, “What is this?” I asked her. “Wine, my dear. You never break bread with a new friend without bringing something of your own to the meal, and what I have is blood wine,” she replied, her voice slightly raspy from years of smoking I’d assume. I arched my eyebrow at her, “Blood?” I asked. She smiled, “Just a name. I use it in rituals to bring lovers together, to open hearts and minds to the possibilities that lie right in front of their eyes, and to help young women obtain the deepest goals of their hearts. All based on the heart and love, so blood seemed a fitting name. Taste it,” she insisted as she pushed the cup towards me. I lifted the small glass to my lips and she smiled as she watched me tip the thick purple-black liquid up and into my mouth. The flavor was that of roasted plums and smoked blackberries bathed in rocket fuel. I don’t think it was a legally made wine. One sip and my cheeks flushed with a pale pink, my throat and stomach felt warm as the liquid made its way down to mingle with my sandwich and sweets. I couldn’t tell you why, but I took another sip, and another until the drink was gone from the small crystal glass and the old woman smiled at me as she pulled another bottle from beneath her counter, this one still sealed, and wrapped two wine glasses in paper, placing them on either side of the bottles, both the one she’d opened and the sealed one, in a pretty fabric bag. She walked around her shop and pulled out a few odds and ends and placed them in the bag then came back and handed it to me. I pulled out my card to pay for the goods and she pushed my card back towards me and waved her hand as if insulted, “I’ve not had conversation this good in many years my dear Layla. You are young to the craft but have much potential and I would be honored to be the one to give you the tools you need to get started. They are just little trinkets, but I hope you can stop by and talk some more before you leave back to America.” I smiled and nodded, “I’d like that.” I headed back to the hotel and unpacked the gifts she’d given me. They were traditional witchcraft-esque fare plus the two bottles of wine and two wine glasses. I put the opened bottle of wine in the little fridge in the room and then headed out of my room and ran straight into Mr. Aemes. Literally, he was walking down the hall and I stepped out of my room right in front of him and he walked straight into me and nearly knocked me down. Mid-fall he grabbed my waist and wrist and kept me from actually falling. I laughed and he looked mortified as he lifted me back to my feet, “Are you okay Miss Keller?” I nodded, “I’m fine, Mr. Aemes. Where is everyone?” “Everyone is exploring around the hotel in small groups, I was going to stay behind and nap but I didn’t think there were still any students in their rooms,” he said. “I’ll stay in the hotel while you nap so you don’t have to worry about me getting k**napped or something,” I said with a chuckle. “Alright, we’re all meeting up in the restaurant downstairs for dinner at 8 and we’re going to set up groups for activities tomorrow,” he said as he went towards his room.I headed down to the bar in the hotel lobby. The hotel was pretty large, but word had gotten around about us and people were fairly curious about the group of American teenagers. I suppose I stood out a little bit, given I had a bit of a fairy/goth/witch aesthetic going on. Currently I wore a purple and teal plaid skirt, a teal tank top and a strategically ripped sheer black long sleeved top and adorned my face with a black winged eyeliner, blood red lip, ghostly complexion, and smokey black and purple eyeshadow. Of course I had a smattering of jewelry as well, because you can’t be proper witch-goth without embracing the whole stereotype – okay, I really liked the stereotype, sue me. My hair, much to the chagrin of my teachers, had recently been dyed a rich violet to fuchsia ombre and it cascaded in thick curls down my back and I was feeling pretty confident with my look. So when I sat at the bar and ordered a drink, I didn’t even blink when an older guy came and sat at the bar next to me. “Are you one of the American students?” he asked with a thick accent. I smiled and nursed the Rose cocktail sitting in front of me before answering, “Are you going to offer me a drink if I am?” He smiled, “I suppose so. Have you ever had Absinthe?”I shook my head. “Have you heard of it?” he asked. I nodded, “Causes hallucinations? Tastes disgusting?” I asked. He chuckled, “Hallucinations are just an old tale, no truth to it, but if you loathe licorice you would probably find it disgusting. Would you like to try it?” His eyes were focused on a table towards the back of the bar and I glanced towards it, three guys sat in a rounded booth, a large round table stood in front of them and on top of that table was a contraption with six spigots and a pendik escort large glass container of water. His hand slid under my shirt and his fingertips grazed the small of my back, “Come on, you’re in France, come and try it. Just a sip, we just want to have one of the Americans try it.” I finished the Rose cocktail and let him lead me over to the table with his friends. One of them stood up and motioned for me to slide in to the booth, sitting in the middle with two men on either side of me. As I sat down I looked at the setup a bit more closely, six small glasses had a small of amount of green liquid in the bottom of the glass, atop the glass sat a small spoon with slots and a sugar cube. Each of the four men looked no more than, maybe, six years older than me, and they were all rather handsome as well, so I was a bit nervous as I was used to being shunned by the males around me due to my lack of Christian faith, aggressive attire, and unwillingness to conform. The man from the bar nodded to his friends as they raised their hand, “That’s Gabe, and Adam, I’m Alex, and this is Vic.” I took in each one, Gabe had dark curly hair, brown eyes and a deep olive toned complexion. Adam’s hair was blonde, long and neatly combed, a pale complexion and green eyes, very similar to my own. Alex, the one who approached me at the bar, had short and spiky dirty blonde hair, blue eyes and a not-quite-tan, but not really pale either, complexion. Vic looked a lot like Gabe, enough so that I did a double take. He noticed and laughed. “Gabe and I are brothers, no we’re not twins, but yes we get asked that a lot,” he smirked as I blushed slightly. “What’s your name, love?” “Layla,” I responded.“And how old are you?” Adam asked. “Old enough to drink here legally,” I said. “How old are you guys?”They went around the circle, starting with Gabe, “26, 25, 29, 28”“Are you locals?” I asked. Adam and Alex nodded, “Gabe and Vic are from Greece, but they’re working on moving here permanently, right now they are just here for a job,” Alex offered. I looked at the contraption in front of us, “So how does this thing work?” I asked. The rest of the group turned the tap until the water from the spigot was just barely dripping onto the sugar cube in the spoon, and I followed suit.Gabe explained it to me, “We wait until the sugar is all gone, then turn the water up a little more and see that line right there?” he asked as he pointed to a higher mark on the glass. I nodded and he continued, “When the sugar is gone we’ll turn the water up just a little higher until the water fills the cup to that line. The drink will go cloudy and then we drink.” We waited and watched as we conversed. They got me laughing by asking about the accuracy of movies as far as American customs go. When the drink was cloudy and full we each picked up our glass and, being new to the drink and thinking the glass small enough to be intended as a shot, I downed mine as the others began to simply sip. All four guys stared at me as I sat my glass back on the table and tried to ignore the feeling of ice and burning going down the back of my throat and through my stomach. Adam pushed the glass away from me and tilted his head slightly, “You’re supposed to sip it, love. Are you feeling alright?” My face crinkled up and I shook my head. No. I really didn’t feel alright as my throat and stomach burned. Gabe got up and went over to the bar, and ordered me a clear bubbly drink of some sort and brought it back to the table, “Sip this. It’s just lemon soda, it will soothe the burn and settle your stomach.” I sipped the soda, knowing fully that I shouldn’t accept a drink from someone if I didn’t see its preparation and delivery straight to me, but I also didn’t want to hurl in front of four attractive guys either. Adam smiled as he looked me over, “That was brave, Layla. Stupid, but brave. Most people take the tiniest sip of a drink they are unfamiliar with and you went all in. It’s going to hit you hard over the next hour or so.” I sipped the soda and lay my head down on the cold table, my throat still burned and the taste of herbs and licorice was nauseating. Adam scooted closer to me, his hand lay on the small of my back, rubbing gently in a circular motion. I turned my head to face him and he spoke to me as he rubbed my lower back, “Why aren’t you with your classmates or any of your teachers?” he asked. “I was in my room when they left, my teacher is napping, he’s coming down a little later,” I said as I sat up and took another sip of the lemon soda.Alex’s hand rested on my thigh and slowly slid up and under my skirt, and I let it. I sat back and closed my eyes and I let him touch me. Adam’s hand slid around to my stomach and eased up under my shirt. I looked at him and he smiled as he grasped my breast. I put my hands on their wrists, I’m not sure if I was trying to stop them or encourage them. Adam’s lips lingered by my ear, “Finish your soda,” he said, not in a harsh or commanding tone, just as a statement as he groped me and Alex’s hand slid under my panties causing me to shiver and pull away slightly. I picked up the soda and drank it a little more quickly than I intended to. Adam rubbed my stomach and cooed to me, “Good girl,” he whispered. I didn’t feel drunk, or d**gged or anything. I was aware of everything going on, I guess the alcohol I’d had that day just made me less interested in stopping things from progressing. The four men got up from their seats, drinks half finished at best, and I got up with them. “Where are we going?” I asked as they lead me out of the bar and down the lobby. “Where would you like to go, love?” Alex asked. “My room?” I asked hesitantly. “Won’t your student friends and teachers be a problem?” Gabe asked. “How about we take you up to the suite Vic and I are in?”I nodded, “Alright, I just need to tell my teacher.”“We’ll let her know,” Adam said as they ushered me into the elevator. The four of them surrounded me once the elevator door closed and they each began pulling at my clothes and fondling me in the corner of the elevator. I couldn’t tell you who was touching me where or who was kissing me when, but even through the slightest haze of alcohol I could tell you I didn’t want them to stop. The floors ticked off with dings, on the fourth ding the elevator stopped and the guys adjusted my clothes and stood around me as the doors slid open. I was clinging quite tightly to the bar at the back of the elevator and I half smiled as I saw Mr. Aemes. He hesitated but stepped onto the elevator as I started to step out. Alex and Gabe each had a hand on my wrist, preventing me from leaving and Mr. Aemes said nothing as the elevator door closed behind him.“Are you with the students?” Adam asked the older man who’d entered the elevator. Mr. Aemes smiled and shook his head, and spoke in fluent French with a flawless accent. I only caught bits and pieces of what he said, including “Young and dumb American girls,” and, “Easily impressed.” Adam laughed and the five of them began speaking in French to one another, I caught bits and pieces but couldn’t quite catch the full thoughts. One of the fragments I caught, though, was Mr. Aemes telling the younger men that he doubted I would be as profitable as some of the girls he’d seen in the lobby, the proper little Christian girls would fetch a higher price than the outcast with a reputation already and from what he’d seen, I was the only student that fit the outcast role.Adam told Mr. Aemes that they had no intentions of selling me, just wanted to show me a good time my first night in Paris. They all laughed and Mr. Aemes pulled out his wallet, offering the group of guys a hundred euros for me, which they turned down and he raised the price to 200. They looked back and forth to each other, seemingly contemplating the trade but ultimately said no again. Mr. Aemes ruffled through his wallet and shrugged as we came to the eight floor.The four guys started to move past Mr. Aemes, guiding me off of the elevator with them. I looked back to Mr. Aemes as we stepped off of the elevator. The doors started to close behind me and Mr. Aemes blocked it from closing and stepped off with us. He dropped the accent and spoke clearly in English, “How about you guys take the $200 and buy other entertainment for the night and I won’t report this to the authorities or the hotel.” Adam turned and looked at Mr. Aemes, “She’s 18, right?”Mr. Aemes nodded, “She is, but she’s still a student.” Adam shrugged, “Last I checked an 18-year-old can choose her own companions.” Mr. Aemes nodded, “She can, Layla, do you want to go with them?”I looked back at him and hesitated, I kinda did, but I also didn’t want to get in trouble with my teacher on a trip I fought so hard to get. I shook my head. Alex and Gabe let go of my wrists and I walked back towards my teacher. Adam stopped me and leaned down to whisper in my ear, “I know you wanted to come with us and now you can’t because your teacher saw you. We’re in room 820 if you change your mind.” I nodded and followed Mr. Aemes back to the elevator, albeit a little unsteadily. I looked back and watched the group of guys shake their heads as they walked back down towards their room, probably quite hard and very frustrated, such a waste of a potentially amazing first time. When the elevator door closed Mr. Aemes pushed me up against the corner of the elevator with a visible camera in it, “What the fuck were you thinking?” he yelled at me, his arm across my chest and holding me into the corner tightly. My lip trembled, I was really bad with confrontation and disappointing authority. I stuttered, “I-I…don’t know. I don’t know.” He eased up as he saw that I was terrified and backed off, “They could have d**gged you, sold you, killed you…you get that right? They could have seriously hurt you.” I nodded, my lip still trembled as I stayed confined to the corner of the elevator. “What did they give you?” he asked as he looked kağıthane escort me over. “Absinthe? A-a lemon soda…I had a rose drink before that…it wasn’t much or anything,” I was on the verge of tears, feeling like a 6-year-old being scolded for having a cookie before dinner. He sighed and hugged me tightly, “One of the main things we had to fight to get this trip was ensuring we would make sure you were all accounted for at all times. It’s the first night and you were the last person on my list of who needed to be watched closely for shenanigans.” He pulled away from me and took my hand as the elevator door opened on our floor. “You’ve always been a good k**, a little dark and obstinate, but a good k**. What happened here?”I shrugged, keeping my eyes to the ground as he led me down the hall and back to my room. He had me open the door to my room and went inside with me, checking the bathroom, closet and bedroom before he noticed the wine bottle sitting on my sink, surrounded by the occult shop gifts. He looked at me with disgust. “What’s this?” he asked, rummaging through the teas, herbs, twine wrapped scrolls, and trinkets. I ran over and retrieved them with unsteady hands, “I went out earlier and shared a lunch with an old woman and she gave me these things as gifts. The wine bottle isn’t even opened,” I was feeling defensive. He opened the refrigerator and saw the opened second wine bottle, “And this one?” he asked. “I had one glass with her, she said it was a thank-you for good conversation and sharing my food with her. Look, it’s legal to drink at 18 here, so I can’t get in trouble for that. Being stupid momentarily maybe, but I didn’t…I didn’t do anything bad,” I started to sob and it struck a chord as his look of frustration and anger softened to one of concern and guilt. “Look, Miss Keller, you’re 18 and I can’t stop you from interacting with locals in whatever capacity you want to. If what you want is to go back up to that room with those men, I won’t stop you. I just ask you to be safe about it and tell me the room number and their names, if you know them, in case…just in case,” he said.I looked at him, “I’m never going to fit in with my classmates. They are always going to see me as ‘other’ because I don’t share their beliefs and morals. Those guys didn’t see me as other and maybe it felt nice to not be treated as a freak for liking what I like and being who I am.” He nodded, “You think the others see you as a freak?” I shrugged, “My first day in school with them…the first thing anyone said to me was I was going to hell because I dressed weird. No other reason, no asking me what I believed, just that because I dressed different than they were used to, I was going to hell.” “Who told you that?” he asked. I shook my head and smiled, “It doesn’t matter. It was just nice to feel like someone could be interested in me, even if I was being dumb about the safety of it. Thanks for not letting me go with them,” I said as I grabbed the open wine bottle and the two wine glasses the old lady had given me. I poured a small amount of wine into each of the two glasses and handed Mr. Aemes one, he took the stem of the glass reluctantly and swirled the dark liquid around the glass. I raised my glass and smiled at him, “To protecting young and dumb American girls from their own loneliness and naivete.” He blushed but raised his glass slightly in response and we both drank the little bit of wine. He brought his hand up to his mouth and looked into the glass, “What was that?” he asked. “Wine. The old lady gave me two bottles. I was hoping I could take one home with me as a souvenir, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to or not ‘cause of customs? Maybe I can take the empty bottle at least.” He nodded, “It’s good, better than I thought it would be from a first glance.” He looked at his watch and stretched, “You should probably wash your face, they kind of smeared your makeup a lot and we’re to meet up with the rest of the class for dinner in half an hour.” He got up and left and I put the wine back in the refrigerator and went to the bathroom to clean up my makeup. We met up with the rest of the class in the lobby. Adam was back in the bar, he saw me and smiled, but I pretended to not see him as Mr. Aemes and I entered the stream of fellow students and teachers as we took over a big corner of the dining room. As was usual, I sat slightly away from everyone else, with them, but more from an observer’s standpoint. We had dinner and I definitely noticed that over half of our students and teachers got wine with their meals, with a vocal objection from the teachers at first, before they caved with the age of consent. Mr. Aemes kept looking over at me through dinner. I smiled and conversed as I was expected to, but I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t sad during the dinner after realizing no one noticed that I wasn’t in any of the groups that had explored around the hotel, each group would insist I had been with them. One of the benefits of being an outcast, you’re not really noticed so you’re just assumed to be there. We all settled in and we were informed that tape would be placed on the outside of our door, so no funny business with switching rooms or sneaking out while our teachers slept. I took a shower after dinner, spending a lot of time under the hot water, washing myself of the frustrations of the day then indulging in another glass of the old woman’s wine as I sat naked on my bed looking out over the city. It really was a beautiful view, I thought as I heard a light knock on my door. I went over and lifted up onto my tip-toes to look through the peep hole, Mr. Aemes was standing there. He looked up and down the hallway before knocking lightly again. I grabbed the nearest thing to me, which was a thick soft towel and wrapped it around me before I cracked the door and peeked around the edge of it, trying to hide the fact that I was ultimately naked in my room. “What is it, Mr. Aemes?” I asked. He looked a little distraught, “Can I come in?”I hesitated and he shifted his weight on his feet, “Before someone sees me?” he asked with a little more desperation in his voice.I nodded and opened the door wider, breaking the tape seal on my door. He came in and when he saw me wrapped up in the fluffy towel he sighed rather loudly. “Can I have another glass of that wine Miss Keller?” he asked. I walked over to the fridge and pulled the bottle out turning the cleaned glass over and pouring a few ounces into the bottom of the glass. He walked up behind me and pushed close to me as I turned around and handed him the glass. “You okay, Mr. Aemes?” I asked. He nodded and finished the glass of wine rather quickly before reaching behind me to put the glass back on the counter. He put his hand on my cheek and caressed it lightly and I closed my eyes and bit my lip. His thumb pulled lightly at my lower lip, pulling it free from the grip my teeth held on it and I opened my eyes, looking up at him as he lowered his lips to mine and pressed them firmly to me with a lust-filled moan. I was trembling but kissed him back. He was at least twice my age, his dark hair greying at the temples and the rough stubble on his chin and cheeks scratched my skin as he kissed me. His grip on me wavered between overly strong and cloyingly gentle. I didn’t resist as he grasped the corner of the towel that was tucked into itself between my breasts and let the towel fall away from my body. He grasped my body beneath his palm, tracing the curve beside my breasts and down my hip and he looked at me, looked me in the eye and smiled as he lifted me up onto the counter, his fingers slipped easily along the soft mound at my pubic bone and he gasped almost as audibly as I did as he pushed between my pussy lips and caressed my clit and vaginal opening. I whimpered and he slathered his index and middle fingers in the creamy fluid of my cunt then moved his newly slicked fingers back to my clit and rubbed softly and slowly in little circles as I moaned and writhed in his grip. He watched me with great pleasure as my breasts tightened and my chest flushed with a light pink. My body shivered and he quickly knelt down and pressed his lips to my cunt as he pulled my ass to the edge of the counter. My legs lay over his shoulders and his tongue lapped me up as my hands tightened in his hair, pulling him tighter against me, his lips and fingers working together to spread me open and let him taste me deeply as he brought me to my first non-solo orgasm. I whined and gasped and he smiled as he kissed his way back up my body, biting and sucking on my nipples greedily as he unfastened his pants and pulled out his cock, firm and glistening with precum as he stroked the tip of him against my creamy pussy. I squirmed and put my hands on his hips, stopping him from pushing into me. “Wait, wait, wait,” I cried as he tried to push through my resistance. I looked him in the eye and begged, “Please wait Mr. Aemes, please?” He groaned but resisted his want to push forward as I climbed up on the counter and knelt down. I looked up at him, “May I taste you first, sir?” I asked. He smiled and grabbed a handful of my hair as he lifted up and pushed his dick into my mouth. He moaned loudly, much more loudly than he should have as my lips closed around him and I did my best to suck on his cock. I had never done it before, so I didn’t really know what to do, other than to tightly close my lips on him and lift and fondle his shaft as much as I could with my tongue. He guided the pace with his hand on my hair and he gagged me a few times as he pushed himself deeper into my mouth than I was capable of taking him. He groaned and moaned and I followed his guidance until he shoved himself deep into my throat, gagging me, and I felt my throat and mouth flood with warmth. When he pulled free of my mouth, I swallowed hard and coughed. He stroked his saliva and cum maltepe escort coated cock and grabbed my thighs, pulling me back onto my butt on the counter as he grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked it hard as he quickly pushed his still hard cock into me. I cried out and he pulled my hair harder. I squirmed and cried and he just kissed me to silence me and pulled my hair harder to distract me from the ache of my pussy as he stretched, ripped, and filled me with my first cock. I don’t know if he’d known I was a virgin or not, but the harder I cried the deeper he pushed into me until my knees were clenched tightly to his waist and he was bouncing me on his cock and whispering to me as he fucked me, “Is having a big, thick cock in your tight little pussy everything you thought it would be, Layla?” He slowed down and seemed to notice that I was trembling and crying for the first time since he’d started fucking me, but he didn’t stop, he just stroked my hair and down my back as his thrusts slowed to deep and powerful penetration. He lay my head on his shoulder and shushed me as I cried, his grunts and moans still sounding with each deep thrust upwards and into me. His hands slid down my body until they rested on either of my hips and he held me firmly onto his cock as his warmth filled my insides. He couldn’t stop himself from fondling my breasts and caressing my body as he sat me back on the counter. My cheeks were stained with tears and his thumbs wiped the freshest ones from beneath my eyes. He leaned down and kissed me hard and deep, his cock was still buried deeply within me. It wasn’t until he pulled his cock free of me and saw the blood mixed with both of our cum that he seemed to realize what he’d done and why I’d been crying. “Did it hurt?” he asked as he gently rubbed my aching pussy. I nodded and he looked away from me and down to the floor, blood had dripped down the counter top and onto the wooden floor beneath me. His eyes were taking in my body and it was clear to me that he wanted more as his cock quickly sprung back to life. He refrained from doing what he wanted and looked me in the eye, “Did you want me to stop?” he asked, a look of concern on his face. I shook my head and wipe the tears from my eyes, “Just wanted…to…” He kissed me softly and caressed my cheek as he did. He broke off the kiss and smiled as he looked up at me, “You’re eyes are such a beautiful light green when you cry, Layla.” He pulled me off of the counter and positioned me down on the floor on my hands and knees. He licked his fingers and began to rub my asshole, carefully coating his cock in the cum and blood dripping from my cunt. I turned and looked at him, complete fear in my eyes. He smiled and pushed his moistened fingers into my ass, slowly pushing in and out as I cringed, “What do you think four guys were going to do? Take turns? No, Miss Keller, they were going to fill all of your holes with their biggest dicks. Now relax and let me prepare you for them.” He played with my ass for nearly an hour, gently and slowly working me up to just barely fitting his dick inside of me. It hurt and he reached around my waist and worked my still aching clit until I was moaning and squirming, letting his cock inch its way into my ass with much less resistance. He groaned and began slow and steady strokes into me, his hand rested just above my womb and he lifted me until I was kneeling in front of him, my body upright and my back tight against his chest as his dick pushed deeply into my ass. He had one hand above my womb and the other grasped my throat tightly as he fucked himself into me. I moaned and he whispered to me, “Touch yourself for me, Layla.” I groped my breast and slid my fingers between my thighs, rubbing my clit and pushing myself back against his dick with a soft and continued moan. His grip on my throat and stomach tightened as he felt me tense up around him. He breathed heavily into my ear and groaned as he pumped in and out of me. I turned my head slightly and kissed him, he managed a handful of strokes as his tongue dominated mine before he pushed deep and I, again, felt his warmth spreading through me. He pulled himself from my ass and quickly went to the bathroom to pee and wash himself up. I simply lay down on the floor, his cum spilling from my ass and cunt creating a red tinged gloss over my inner thighs. When he came out of the bathroom, he scooped me up and carried me into the bathroom and sat me in the tub. He washed me, kissed me, held the pulsing handheld showerhead to my clit until I begged him to fuck me again, and he obliged, bending me over on my hands and knees and pushing his throbbing cock into my pussy from behind as he had me hold the showerhead on my own clit, creating a powerful orgasm that made him clamp his hands over my mouth as he muffled my cries of ecstasy and enjoyed just how much my cunt squeezed and pulled his dick into me. After dumping a second load into my cunt, he washed me up again and put me into my bed, naked and sore and exposed to the world. Then he snuck out of my room, replaced the tape on my door and went back to his room to spend the last few hours of the night sound asleep.The next morning at breakfast, I saw him off in a corner, talking to Adam, who kept glancing over at me. Some money was exchanged between them, and Mr. Aemes smiled at me, slipped the money Adam had given him into his pocket and went to eat breakfast. I finished my breakfast and headed back to the elevator, where Adam was waiting for me. I felt brave after last night and today I wore a black leather miniskirt with a fuchsia crop top under a zippered and strategically ripped hoodie, no bra, no panties. I rode in the elevator up to the 8th floor, and Adam guided me down the hall to room 820, where I knew three other men would be waiting for me. Mr. Aemes has applied for me to study French culture under him over the summer after graduation.Room 820 is a two bedroom suite. It has a jacuzzi and two king sized beds. It has a living room and coffee table and kitchen table and after two hours one or more of the four men I’d met the night before had fucked me in every bed and surface across the room. When Mr. Aemes came to retrieve me he collected more money from the four men and chastised them for the bruises evident on my wrists and thighs. They weren’t illicit bruises of force, just the kind of bruises one receives when one is squirmy and needs to be held still in order to be properly used for mutual pleasure. Mr. Aemes renewed his claim over my body once he got me back down to my room. I ached, my stomach and thighs burned from use over the past 16 hours so I welcomed his soothing touch and the hot salt bath he’d prepared for me. “Why did you make that deal?” I asked as he rubbed and kissed my neck, his cock throbbed within me as I sat on his lap in the bath. He rubbed my inner thighs and pulled my head back to his chest as he caressed my body, “They approached me and said they needed you. And I understood what they meant, it was how I felt last night, like if I didn’t have you I’d never be satisfied with anyone else, so I gave them a price and a time frame and they accepted it.” “How did you know I wouldn’t object?” I asked with a soft moan as his fingers and palm massaged my aching cunt. “You wanted it last night. I thought you might still want it. Was I wrong?” he asked. I shook my head and squirmed against his lap. “Did they hurt you?” he asked. “Just a little,” I said as he caressed my breasts and began to rub my clit slowly. “Tell me how?” he whispered just before he bit my earlobe and caused me to giggle and squirm. I lifted myself slightly and turned around to face him, my feet rested on either side of his hips in the tub, his cock still impaled me and now he could graze my clit with his thumb as he looked me in the eyes. “Just, more than one person at a time…” I hesitated with my answer and he smiled at me. “Were their dicks bigger than mine?” he asked. I shook my head, “Maybe the same at best? Alex was the biggest. None of them were circumcised, so that was a little weird for me?” “Did you like it? Having someone fucking your ass and pussy at the same time?” he asked as I started to rock on his cock. I nodded, “I enjoyed it, I think.” He grabbed my hips and guided me up and down on his shaft, “Do you like the way my dick fills you up?” I moaned and nodded and he rubbed my clit with his thumb as he watched me take in the pleasure. He stopped just before I came and lifted me off of his cock, coating my chest and lips with his cum before he began to wash me again. “Mr. Aemes,” I said as I watched him fold the soapy cloth and take another pass at the milky liquid coating my nipples. “Yes, Layla?” he responded, barely looking up from what he was doing. “Are you going to sell me to other people while we’re here?”“No, I think that’s a one time thing,” he said. “What happens when we leave here?” I asked. “What do you mean?” “When we go back home, this has to end, right?” He was quiet as he continued washing me, not answering the question as he washed me. “Mr. Aemes?” I asked. “Do you want it to end?” he asked. I shook my head, “No, but you’re married, and I’m your student, and you could be fired if anyone found out.” “We’ll figure it out when the time comes. How would you feel about coming back to Paris this summer for an immersive study course in French culture?” he asked. “With you?” I asked. He nodded, “We wouldn’t technically be together for the coursework. You would have to attend courses at a local university while you’re here and I would have to teach courses at the university while I’m here. But seeing as how I choose the students for the course, I think I can assure your placement, should you choose to apply.” I smiled, “I think I would like that.” For the duration of the trip we drank from that first bottle of wine, it didn’t empty until our last night in Paris and the second bottle of wine went through security with no problems along the way. Customs didn’t even ask about it, in spite of it being prominently displayed with the souvenirs I’d declared. That bottle lasted my remaining months of high school. By the time we headed back to Paris we were beginning to be bored with one another, a short passionate fling that lasted as long as the wine had.

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