I was made a whore by three unknown men in a shed

Watch my other videos and stories on the site. I'm Rick. I'm 38 years old, six-foot-eight, 300 pounds, white, smooth. Sometimes I shave everything. I give myself up without freshness, without limits. I have real videos and pictures with my face. That day, I was already in use. I was fucked four times before dark. Some guy put it in his car early in the parking lot at a grocery store. Another met me at lunchtime in a simple hotel room, the ones with stained sheets. The other two came in the late afternoon, in a row — one ate me leaning against the bathroom tile, the other laid me down and pushed me hard, calling me a dumpster. Everyone came in. I just cleaned from the outside, passed my underwear, put it on again. And he was. The body was already throbbing. The underwear would stick to the skin with the hot jouissance slowly drying. The ass burned. But the fire was still burning — that inner fire that passes only when you completely dismount. I got a short message from a stranger: “Come now. It will be as you deserve.” The address was far away. An industrial neighborhood, almost the end of the world. Street of beaten earth, surrounded by wasteland. The gate of the house was white, peeled, rusty, with a loose chain and a hanging lock. I did. A man showed up right away. Undone beard, dry eyes, broad shoulders. It smelled like cigarettes, sweat and hot beer. He wore a faded red shirt and an old nylon short. He just looked. No smiles. No questions. He unlocked the lock and said: - Come on in, bitch. I'm in. The gate closed behind me with a snap. The house was dark, muffled, with the smell of closed body, wet cloth, cigarette and old joy. In the center of the room, a mattress lying on the floor, lined by a covered white sheet, stained on the ends. On the couch, another guy. Younger. No shirt, shorts glued to the hard dick, which moved slowly under the cloth. He looked at me hungry. Another man was standing against the wall, smoking, dick out, half-hard. — Strip — said the first. I took everything right there. Each piece slowly descending, glued to sweaty skin. The underwear was wet, stained with fucking dry and new. The yellow light in the room marked the skin of my ass, which was already red, glowing with old spits. - Kneel. It's already running, you bitch - said another, while I was kneeling on the mattress. The first one approached from behind. I felt the weight of his presence. Slipped my ass, pulled, spit right in the middle. The spit flowed slowly, mixing with what was already flowing from before. He put two fingers in without asking, moving deeply. - Here's a soup - whispered, almost laughing. The tongue came later. Wet, steady. He cut me open with his fingers and put his face in, sucking hungry. I groaned, breathed. In front, the youngest one already had his dick pointed at my mouth. Strong smell, thick cock, wet head. It was unceremonious. His throat's stuck. Babei. I choked. The sequence was raw. I was sucking, choking, while the one in the back was licking me, fingering me, spitting. Then he went up. He held my waist and shoved his dick at once. No warning. I screamed. It was thick. I felt the old joke being pushed. With each shot, the mixture ran hot down my thighs, splashing on the mattress. I heard the sound wet, ploc ploc, smelling like a male, fun, use. — You're getting on my ass with the fucking others, bitch -- he growled, punching deeper. He didn't come there. He punched a few more times, feeling my ass squeezing everything he'd ever received before, and then he came out with a wet slap. His dick was licked, glowing with the mixture of his own spit and the fucking others that ran from inside. He held my hair, pointed his molasses at my face. — Clean — sent. I opened my mouth. I sucked with taste, feeling the warm taste of my own ass mixed with ancient enjoyment. He held me tight, shoved me down my throat, while the other one was already standing behind me. I heard the sound of spit falling, wet, straight into the ass line. You messed it up. His body glued to my back, hot, heavy. Thick, hairy dick, coming in hard. He held me by the throat with one hand and, with the other, began to slap me hard in the ass — snapping, rhythmic with the stabs. Every slap made me moan, every punch threw me forward - Will you open this fucking thing or not, garbage? - It growled in my ear. I just moaned, puffing, mouth still full of saliva and I like ass. He raised the pace, punching me deep with everything, until the hip hit hard, echoing in the muffled room. I held my neck tight, not to the point of erasing, but to remember that the body wasn't mine. It was theirs. You made a deep joke. Quick, hard, no talking. Just a serious grunt and the hot jet filling me up one more time. When he came, he dumped me on the mattress without saying anything. As soon as I felt his body come out, the other one was pulling my legs, ready to start over. The third laid me on the mattress already soaked, pulled me by the legs, lifting them up to my shoulders. The light in the room was hitting my sweaty face, the wet belly hair, the chest marked with splashes. He knelt between my thighs and scratched his dick in the open entrance, shining of so much use. He came in slowly, pushing an inch by inch, calmly. Not by care — by control. I wanted to feel every part of the way. And I felt every fucking thing going on, being pushed back inside. Every bomb went off. The ass squeezed what was no longer fit. The hot, thick mixture went down my back, down the sides of my ass, spreading. I groaned. I had no strength left in my arms. The soft body, the short breath. The mattress made wet sound every shot, sinking under my weight and his. Meanwhile, the first one was still with me. I kept holding myself from the back of the head, making me suck his dick all dirty — molasses from my ass and the old fun. Pushed deep, no mercy. Every time I choked, I held my head and whispered: - You were born for this. You were born to be sucking and taking at the same time, you piece of shit. My body was an open channel. I breathed, with my mouth full, my ass being filled again, my chest shaking. The mixture of joy, saliva, sweat and humiliation flowed everywhere. The third increased the rhythm, grunting low, punching deeper. When he came, he buried it to the end. I felt the dick pulsing inside, hot, firm. I felt the jets mixing with everything that was already leaking, and at that moment, even without coming, I groaned loudly — as if his enjoyment were mine. My body went out there. Her eyes are blurry. The sound has become noise. Head fell to the side. I fainted lightly, still with his dick in it. When I came back, the smell was stronger. Fucking dry in the belly, in the chest. Cold sweat running down the back of the head. Involuntary tremors in the body. The breath came in short waves, as if the air was running out. I don't know how long I was out. When I opened my eyes, everything looked dirty, stuffy, hot. The smell of piss, fucking old rag brought me back. I tried to stay on my knees, but my legs failed. That's when I felt his weight again. The first one, the one who had me kneeled as soon as I came in, positioned himself in the back. You didn't even ask. He just spat between my buttocks, spread his dick and shoved it. He came in at once, hard, angry. The open ass didn't resist. Just one wet slap, and he sank to the base, making me scream with my mouth still full. The second, who had just mocked me, positioned himself in the front again. Pulled my head again, making me open my mouth. His dick was still hard, running fun. - He's gonna clean up the service, bitch - he said, sticking his stick up his throat. The taste was bitter, deep. It was fucking mixed with my ass, with saliva, with everything. The first one started pushing harder. The sound was wet, raw. Every punch made the mattress sink and the fucking drip down my thighs again. I could feel his hip hit hard, his fingers stuck in my waist. Meanwhile, the one in the front would punch my throat. I was getting impulses holding my hair. - Look at that, taking both sides again. That's what you're made for, right? My eyes were watering. I drooled, breathed, but opened more. I didn't fight. I just got paid. The one in the back was deep, with rhythmic force, shaking me whole. The front one started shaking again. - Fuck... that throat is sucking me... And he came again. With warmer jets, shorter. I felt straight down, I couldn't even swallow it all. Some of it slipped through the corner of his mouth. He just laughed and left, letting his dick rub in his tongue as he walked away. The back one came right away. Buried to the bottom, gave one last dry pump and held on tight. I felt the dick pound inside. I felt the hot jouissance go out in thick spasms, once again filling my already flooded ass. I stood there, on all fours, soft, puffing. Fucking running from the mouth, the ass, the skin. And I knew it wasn't over yet. They pulled me by the arm. They dragged me to the front of the house, where the floor was rough and cold cement. I was told to kneel. I knelt. No power. No speech. Her legs were shaking, her skin was burning. The first one came with his dick swinging, soft, still fucking running. He looked at me like he'd throw away a rest. Without a word, he started pissing in my face. The jet came hot, right on the forehead. Slipped through his nose, burned his eyes. I hit my eyelids, but I didn't. I opened my mouth. I swallowed what I got. The taste was bitter, acid, sweaty. The second came behind, laughing. He turned me around a little bit, pissed on his hair, on his shoulders, on his chest, on the clothes I was still holding in my hands. Heavy piss, strong piss, splashing on everything. I was kneeling there, naked, covered with dry, fresh joy, pissing by the hair, sticking to the skin, dripping from the eyelashes. — Put that on and go away - said the first, with a dry voice. - I don't want to look at you anymore. I wore it right there. Wet underwear from before, now completely soaked. The shirt glued to the nipples, cold, stained. The shorts attached to the thigh, the elastic cutting the already sensitive skin. Every move hurt. He unlocked it and then opened the gate with the tip of his foot, like he kicks a dog out. I walked alone down the dirt road. The stones hurt the feet. His ass burned, wide open, leaking. The underwear scraped every step, spreading what was still running. I felt the fucking way down my leg. The shorts cloth was already glued. The taste of piss and the fucking tongue. The smell was dense, animal, impregnated. Each breeze brought more of it back to my nose. And yet, I didn't want a bath. I wanted to feel it a little more. And inside, deep in the chest, where you live what's true, I smiled. Because that's exactly what I wanted.