Read Online The Perfect Gangbang by Alastair Anders - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alastair Anders
Tags: gangbang, gang bang, bondage sex, gang bang sex stories, kidnap and gangbang, gangbang sex stories, bukkake, woman in bondage, hardcore gangbang, kidnapped woman, hardcore sex stories
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the shower wall.
She completely phoned it in at her shoot, even though she’d been nervous all month about it. All she could think about was the feel of cold clammy air on her bare skin and the gentle shlick-shlick sound of men jacking off in the dark. As the cameras flashed all around her, Irina lay back on the sofa, her eyes closed, her lips parting slightly.
All afternoon she wandered around through a sexually animated world. Every man who passed her might be carrying a chloroformed rag in his pocket, her ticket to the realization of her fantasy. She bought a pair of boots on Fifth Avenue, green snakeskin with gold plating, because she couldn’t stop imagining those killer spike heels flailing helplessly in the air as cum rained down on her from every angle.
She watched the bartender at the nightclub who fixed her vodka martini, noticing his muscular arms and trying to guess whether his cock would be sliding inside her helpless pussy by the end of the night. Or would it be the bouncer at the door, who regarded her behind mysterious mirrored sunglasses? Irina nearly fainted, and her pussy creamed so intensely that her panties soaked through and a trail of sweet wetness began to run down the inside of her thigh.
Late in the night, she got invited out to an after-hours club at some underground warehouse in Bushwick. A perfect place for a kidnapping, she thought. All those abandoned warehouses, all those narrow little alleys. They could grab her right off the sidewalk, and no one would know.
In the nightclub bathroom, Irina texted the address of the after-hours club to the agency. Then she went back to her hotel and changed into a skin-tight black dress and her new pair of boots. She slicked on an extra layer of mascara and applied her sluttiest red lipstick. She wadded up her soaked panties and tossed them in her suitcase. Let them find her without underwear. Irina grabbed her purse and headed out.
As the hotel room door shut behind her, strong arms clapped around her body, pinning her arms to her sides. Someone pulled her backwards, lifting her up off the floor, and she could feel the indent of a hard cock straining through jeans and underwear as it pressed into her ass. She shrieked, and a warm wet rag soaked with something chemical was clapped over her nose and mouth. She moaned and closed her eyes as everything went dark.
Her hands and feet were bound. There was duct tape over her mouth. The surface against her back was scratchy car-floor fabric. Everything smelled like cigarettes. Street lamps were flashing past her.
Irina closed her eyes and sank back into unconsciousness.
“Call him. Fuckin’ call him back, I’m not driving around all five boroughs with this bitch.”
Irina blinked. She looked around. She was in the back of a stripped-out van with two enormous men in leather jackets sitting in the driver’s and passenger’s seats. The passenger was fiddling with his cell phone. Behind the seats crouched two men wearing ski masks, both watching her intently.
“I haven’t squirted in almost a week,” one said to the other. “Been saving it up for tonight. I’m gonna drown this bitch.”
“If we don’t get there soon, my balls are gonna burst right in my pants,” the other said. He grasped the hem of Irina’s dress and lifted it as high as he could, blocking out her vision. “Somebody’s not wearin’ panties,” he said.
Irina felt the tip of a finger begin to probe the crease where her legs closed. She was already incredibly turned on, and with no more than a gentle push his finger slipped all the way up to his third knuckle.
“Not wearing panties and looking for a good time,” he said. He raised his finger up to the glow of the streetlights, where it glistened, then ran his thick tongue down its full length.
The driver banged on the roof. “HEY! What did I tell you! You save that pussy for everyone, you hear me?”
The passenger snapped his phone closed. “All right! He got the
She completely phoned it in at her shoot, even though she’d been nervous all month about it. All she could think about was the feel of cold clammy air on her bare skin and the gentle shlick-shlick sound of men jacking off in the dark. As the cameras flashed all around her, Irina lay back on the sofa, her eyes closed, her lips parting slightly.
All afternoon she wandered around through a sexually animated world. Every man who passed her might be carrying a chloroformed rag in his pocket, her ticket to the realization of her fantasy. She bought a pair of boots on Fifth Avenue, green snakeskin with gold plating, because she couldn’t stop imagining those killer spike heels flailing helplessly in the air as cum rained down on her from every angle.
She watched the bartender at the nightclub who fixed her vodka martini, noticing his muscular arms and trying to guess whether his cock would be sliding inside her helpless pussy by the end of the night. Or would it be the bouncer at the door, who regarded her behind mysterious mirrored sunglasses? Irina nearly fainted, and her pussy creamed so intensely that her panties soaked through and a trail of sweet wetness began to run down the inside of her thigh.
Late in the night, she got invited out to an after-hours club at some underground warehouse in Bushwick. A perfect place for a kidnapping, she thought. All those abandoned warehouses, all those narrow little alleys. They could grab her right off the sidewalk, and no one would know.
In the nightclub bathroom, Irina texted the address of the after-hours club to the agency. Then she went back to her hotel and changed into a skin-tight black dress and her new pair of boots. She slicked on an extra layer of mascara and applied her sluttiest red lipstick. She wadded up her soaked panties and tossed them in her suitcase. Let them find her without underwear. Irina grabbed her purse and headed out.
As the hotel room door shut behind her, strong arms clapped around her body, pinning her arms to her sides. Someone pulled her backwards, lifting her up off the floor, and she could feel the indent of a hard cock straining through jeans and underwear as it pressed into her ass. She shrieked, and a warm wet rag soaked with something chemical was clapped over her nose and mouth. She moaned and closed her eyes as everything went dark.
Her hands and feet were bound. There was duct tape over her mouth. The surface against her back was scratchy car-floor fabric. Everything smelled like cigarettes. Street lamps were flashing past her.
Irina closed her eyes and sank back into unconsciousness.
“Call him. Fuckin’ call him back, I’m not driving around all five boroughs with this bitch.”
Irina blinked. She looked around. She was in the back of a stripped-out van with two enormous men in leather jackets sitting in the driver’s and passenger’s seats. The passenger was fiddling with his cell phone. Behind the seats crouched two men wearing ski masks, both watching her intently.
“I haven’t squirted in almost a week,” one said to the other. “Been saving it up for tonight. I’m gonna drown this bitch.”
“If we don’t get there soon, my balls are gonna burst right in my pants,” the other said. He grasped the hem of Irina’s dress and lifted it as high as he could, blocking out her vision. “Somebody’s not wearin’ panties,” he said.
Irina felt the tip of a finger begin to probe the crease where her legs closed. She was already incredibly turned on, and with no more than a gentle push his finger slipped all the way up to his third knuckle.
“Not wearing panties and looking for a good time,” he said. He raised his finger up to the glow of the streetlights, where it glistened, then ran his thick tongue down its full length.
The driver banged on the roof. “HEY! What did I tell you! You save that pussy for everyone, you hear me?”
The passenger snapped his phone closed. “All right! He got the
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