Cum. Cum. Cum. Cum. Cum It Out.
"Heave-ho..."
Naked Woman climbed up onto the bed. Then she shoved me aside and claimed the spot where I'd been lying.
"..."
I'd been unceremoniously dumped off the mattress, but I had no idea how I was supposed to react, so I just stood there frozen.
Naked Woman had said she was going to suck on my balls again this round... yet for some reason she was just lying there in the middle of the bed. Shirt Woman had promised to press her breasts into my back from behind while she kneaded my nipples—yet she was simply sitting there, and I couldn't figure out why. Pantyhose Woman had announced she was going to torture my glans with her stocking crotch until my cock tore through the fabric and sank into her pussy... yet she too was just standing still.
I couldn't even imagine how those three things were supposed to happen at the same time. All I could think was, What the hell are they even planning to do?
"Come on. Sit here."
Shirt Woman patted her thighs like she wanted me to climb onto her lap. But she was kneeling with her legs spread wide, and I had no clue what kind of posture that even called for. On top of that... Naked Woman's head was already parked right between Shirt Woman's thighs on the bed. Shirt Woman kept beckoning me over to sit, and I still couldn't tell what the hell she expected me to do with myself.
"Um... I'm not really sure where you want me to sit..."
"On top of this, I said."
It wasn't Shirt Woman who answered. It was Naked Woman. She stared up at me like she couldn't believe how thick I was being.
"You're not... telling me to sit on her face, are you?"
"No? That's exactly what I'm telling you. Stop standing there like an idiot and get over here."
"Uh, umm..."
Fantasizing about a woman's ass settling onto my face was something I did every single day. The reverse—me sitting on a woman's face—was a thought that had never once crossed my mind in my entire life. The idea made me recoil. It wasn't a "I'd rather die" level of refusal, but it carried the same heavy guilt as snatching a pregnant woman's reserved seat on the subway just because your own legs hurt.
"Ugh... ah... uh..."
Making dumb little noises the whole way, I shuffled awkwardly toward the bed. I kept glancing back and forth between the three of them with a face that screamed Is this really okay?, but all I got back was the silent threat that if I didn't hurry they'd force me down themselves.
Gulp.
I leaned my back against Shirt Woman and settled as slowly as humanly possible onto her thighs. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for the sensation of sitting square on Naked Woman's face—but when I opened them, the arrangement that greeted me was nothing like what I'd pictured.
"Ahh..."
I wasn't sitting on her face at all. It felt more like I was perched on a toilet, taking a dump. Shirt Woman's thighs worked as the toilet seat, bracing my ass and upper thighs so I wouldn't sink through and crush Naked Woman's face. And Naked Woman underneath... well, if we keep the metaphor going, she was basically the water in the bowl. A little gross, sure, but the perfect position for catching every drop of cum that dribbled down while she sucked on my balls nonstop whenever the mood struck her.
"Our turn now."
Pantyhose Woman, who'd stepped away from the bed for a moment, grabbed the toe of her stocking and stretched it taut, then snipped the end off with a pair of scissors. She did the same to the other foot, tossed the makeshift stocking gloves over to Shirt Woman, and climbed back onto the bed still wearing the reverse-ankle look.
"Mmm~. Fits my hand perfectly."
The gloves made from the foot of the stockings were crude—no finger holes, more like mittens than anything—but they were more than enough to torment one man. Shirt Woman slipped them on, then covered my face with a gloved hand and forced me to inhale Pantyhose Woman's foot stench like she was doing me a favor.
"How's that? Super rank, right?"
"Shut up. Don't use mine for that shit."
"Wrong. They're on my hands now, so they're mine."
"That's not what I'm talking about."
"...I wasn't talking about that either."
In that same instant Shirt Woman locked her arms around me from behind and crushed her chest fully against my back. For a split second Pantyhose Woman's expression twisted. A pissing contest? A dominance struggle...? Over me?
Gulp.
Even if the two of them started fighting, there was still absolutely nothing I could do. More precisely... the only thing I was allowed to do was keep my cock hard, shut my mouth, and stay still. These three weren't interested in my opinions—they wanted to watch me suffer and react. Flashing any kind of ego was off-limits.
"Just like I said earlier... until your cock tears through the stocking and sinks into my pussy, I'm going to torture your glans by rubbing it with this stocking cunt."
"Man, you're making this so complicated. Right?"
"Shut up. Even if your glans splits open and starts bleeding halfway through, I'm not stopping... so keep that cock standing straight."
"Haa... when it's my turn I won't throw any annoying conditions at you, so don't worry. In exchange, you save up everything you'd give that bitch and dump a huge load on me when it's my turn. Got it?"
"I said shut up."
"Yes, yes~."
Finally Pantyhose Woman climbed onto the bed, completing the four-person formation the three of them had planned. On the bottom, Naked Woman lay on her back, sucking my balls like she was giving a blowjob and gulping down every drop of cum that came out... Behind me, Shirt Woman pressed her breasts into my back while she circled my nipples with her stocking-gloved fingers... And last of all, Pantyhose Woman would start the glans-friction torture with her stocking crotch until my cock tore through and buried itself in her pussy.
And then, at last, Pantyhose Woman settled into position on top of me, and every preparation was complete.
"You're a little heavy once you get up here too, you know?"
"Shut up."
The two of them kept trading barbs after that, but I couldn't get a single word out. No special reason—Naked Woman underneath me had started sucking my balls before the stocking gloves were even finished, and I was already having trouble keeping my head straight.
"Uhaaah..."
In the middle of their bickering I finally let out a pathetic moan and crashed their conversation. But the two of them treated the sound like a starting gun. They dropped the argument on the spot and focused on their own jobs.
"Heheh."
From behind me came the rustle of a shirt being peeled off. This time it wasn't fabric between us—two bare breasts, nipples sharp and clear against my skin, began sliding up and down my back. At the same time Shirt Woman launched into her main event: the stocking-glove nipple torture. On the left she traced slow circles around my areola with her middle finger; on the right she flicked my nipple up and down with her index finger in rapid little taps. Every time she switched fingers she hit me with a brand-new kind of stimulation I'd never felt before.
"Brace yourself."
In front, Pantyhose Woman started rubbing the entrance of her pussy against my glans, letting only the very tip slip inside. But her posture was way more awkward than I'd expected. Head bowed, half-crouched, just dipping the head in and out—even from the receiving end I wondered if this was actually workable. Looking back, she'd wavered for a long time between planting both feet on the mattress or straddling my legs, and had finally settled into a position that looked uncomfortable as hell. Even that got her shoved because Shirt Woman complained it was too cramped, and she almost tumbled off the edge of the bed. She'd climbed down herself, rubbing the back of her neck like the stress was getting to her.
"...Fuck."
Rip—
Apparently deciding to change the plan, Pantyhose Woman tore open the crotch of her own stockings. Instead of trying to hold that half-assed angle while facing me, she spun around completely, planted herself in reverse-cowgirl, lined up, and dropped her hips—burying me to the root in one go.
"Whoa... it barely fit."
Shirt Woman played it off like it was nothing, but the impact was enough to snap my head back. When Naked Woman had first jumped me I'd been too terrified to do anything but tremble... but right now the sight of that huge ass wrapped in pantyhose clamping down around my cock was burned crystal-clear into my eyes.
"Pfft. Your moans sound so dumb."
That one landed on both me and Pantyhose Woman at once. I was taking reverse-cowgirl, ball-sucking, and nipple torture all at the same time, so of course idiot noises were leaking out of me... but apparently every little moan Pantyhose Woman made while she rolled her hips was comedy gold to Shirt Woman.
"You're one to talk. Feeling this much over something so small, and you still took two girls' virginities in a single day... aren't you being a little rough?"
She called me rough, but the real rough one was Shirt Woman behind me, grinding her breasts into my back and tormenting my nipples. Out of the three she was the only one who hadn't kicked me in the balls, yet somehow her words always cut the deepest.
"So... hurry up and cum in that slutty pussy. Then we can move on to the next round. Hmm? You want to do me soon too, right?"
Cum. Cum. Cum. Cum. Cum it out.
Shirt Woman never stopped pinching my nipples with the stocking gloves while she ordered me to finish already.
"Alright, I'll start the countdown. You're going to cum in ten seconds."
The word countdown made the tension in the room spike for all four of us. Naked Woman, who'd been diligently licking my balls, secretly reached up and started squeezing my swollen, stamina-potion-inflated balls for all she was worth. Even though she was crushing them out of shape, the sensation that piled up inside me was closer to pleasure than pain, and my lower belly grew heavy.
"Ten... nine... eight..."
Shirt Woman brought every one of her five fingers into play, pinching my nipples with focused precision. Thumb, index, middle, ring, pinky—each in turn, applying pressure in time with the countdown as she delivered the order to cum.
"Seven... six... five..."
Pantyhose Woman rolled her hips off-beat from the countdown, the distinctive slap-slap of reverse-cowgirl ringing out every time her ass smacked into my lower belly. With every grind and every impact the hole in the stockings stretched wider, runs spiderwebbing out in every direction.
"Four... three... two..."
The rising urge to cum pitched my body forward, but Shirt Woman hauled me straight back into place. Right before the final count she leaned in and whispered softly against my ear, "Cum right now."
Spurt—
"One."
Spurt— spuuuurt—
Because of Shirt Woman's last little whisper, I blew my load a full second before the countdown hit one. I'd been trying to time a big, satisfying shot... and instead it just slipped out, leaving me with a faint, hollow disappointment.
"If you're done, pull out already."
Shirt Woman gave Pantyhose Woman's ass a couple of light pats with her palm. But Pantyhose Woman seemed to feel the same unfinished regret I did; she didn't move her hips for a long moment.
"Well then... my turn now?"
Shirt Woman stretched with a bright, cheerful tone. But I still couldn't shake the disappointment of that failed, unsatisfying climax.
"..."
Ruined orgasm...
Shirt Woman had completely wrecked my timing.