Misc. Erotica Swati's Downfall (Original Story)

[S Darko]

Swati regains a sense of space and time, and the awareness that the men have allowed her to enjoy her orgasm for quite a while.  

They have, it seems to her, been watching her with awe. It is possible none of them have ever seen a woman come like that—with that intensity, or even someone squirt. Prakash has, of course, and Swati is aware that she sometimes squirts when she is being ass fucked and has what is called an assgasm. 

This time, what she had was a combo of assgasm and vaginal orgasm. A DP of sorts, although she would welcome a real DP with these dudes. 


Nawaz approaches her and helps her sit up, and once her breathing is even, positions her on all fours. 

She is aware what is coming next, or at least she thinks so. It is incredible, but no one has been in her cunt, her main fuckhole yet, and she’s already had a few incredible orgasms. Other than the pink vibe of course, but in a surfeit of real cocks, the toy doesn’t count. 

Her after office dalliances have usually been limited to an hour or two because there is always the pressure of returning home. 

But today she has no such pressure. There is no one waiting at home, Ashok is busy in the hospital, and Dhruv is with his grandparents. 

Inder sits down again in front of her, his floppy cock at half mast, ready for one more round of fellatio. The guy seems to be insatiable. He may have taken a pill or something, she thinks. 

Normally, he has one orgasm and then he is done for the day. He is also the only one among the three men who would have access to such pills; Prakash and Nawaz are relatively low class, uneducated, and probably ignorant. 

But these days, who knows?

She takes Inder’s slimy member into her mouth for the second time that evening and starts to suck, hoping someone will fuck her pussy soon. And almost as though the universe were conspiring to make her wishes come true, it starts to happen. 

Swati becomes aware of unremitting pressure at the entrance of her vagina, a pressure such as she hasn’t felt for a long time, not since she has given birth to Dhruv. 

From her imagined place, floating near the ceiling, she sees the huge mushroom head of Nawaz’ cock trying to breach the entrance to her cunt. 

She sees her outer and inner lips smashed, stretched and distorted like they haven’t been before, the ring of her vagina dilating, pulsing, taking a breather, then dilating some more. 

Her cunt has one job to do right now, and it is to get large enough to let this freakish intruder in.

She opens her mouth wider, still with Inder’s cock in it and breathes deep, relaxing her muscles, willing her cunt to open, relax, to let the giant lollipop into her love tunnel. 

And slowly, like a mole tunneling into fertile soil, the cock head slips in with a slurping sound, like a vacuum seal being released. 

There is no pain but incredible pressure as he takes her from behind, the pressure most intense around the urethra. It is incredible, this sense of stretching. 

She opens her mouth and pants around Inder’s rapidly stiffening cock. He seems to like her hot breath on his prick and murmurs appreciatively. Some more urine escapes her in the excitement. 

“Oh, yeah, do that more,” Inder says.
 
“Guk, guk,” she says, agreeing with him.

But Nawaz is in. 

His cockhead, the glans, the head of his monstrous cock is deep in her love tunnel. 

She can feel only the wide head of his cock, the rest being of more modest dimensions. But the toilet plunger analogy is apt, for it is the cock head of his that does the most magic, stimulating the G spot, deeper and harder than anyone has ever done before.

And the man has moves too! He grabs one of her legs and raises it in the air, changing the angle of his so far gentle thrusting. 

He pulls back only a bit before pushing in again. Each stroke comes at a different angle, and Swati is soon screaming with ecstasy around the meager cock in her mouth. 

Inder pulls her head into his crotch in an effort to shut her up, and yet her screams continue to emanate, albeit muffled by Inder’s massive thighs.

Swati feels her orgasm building. Already! She barely has time to appreciate it before it hits her, and then undulates through her. 

For the next ten or so minutes as Nawaz fucks her with varying intensity and angles and technique, she experiences, for the first time in her life, a continuous rippling orgasm, over and over, unending.

She feels faint, the lack of oxygen from her face being forced into Inder’s lap taking its toll. She has no idea if the fat man has come yet, and she doesn’t care either. 

She hears a muted groan, a cry like a wounded animal. Then she feels rough hands pull her away from the obese man and turn her around. The cock in her cunt is suddenly gone, and she feels even in that dizzy moment as though something valuable has been  lost. 

And then Nawaz is spurting in her face, her mouth, and it’s like a fire hose, and she swallows and tries to breathe in the face of his spurting orgasm. 

When she regains her senses, she sees there has been an addition to their cozy little group. 

There is a new man, about Prakash’s height and weight, darker by a few shades. He has a hungry, lustful expression on his face, and there is no question about what he is leering at.