The bar was warm glass against her palm. Lime. Soda. The bite of vodka. Leah let it sit on her tongue a moment before swallowing, watching the ice settle.
Travis was already looking at her from three stools down. That slow, knowing smile. He'd seen her stop at Megan's lounger. Seen the kiss. Seen Megan's husband snoring through the whole thing.
Leah walked to him, set her drink down, and leaned close enough that her lips brushed his ear. "I want you in the cabana."
"The boys still in there?"
"Yes." She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. "I want to finish with my husband tonight."
Something flickered in his gaze. Curiosity. Approval. He stood, leaving cash on the bar, and she took his hand and led him back past the pool.
Megan was still on her lounger, legs crossed tight, watching them approach. Her husband hadn't moved. The snoring hadn't changed pitch.
Leah stopped in front of her and held out her hand.
Megan looked at it. Looked at Travis. Looked back at the cabana where the curtain had fallen closed again, hiding whatever waited inside.
Her hand was cold when she took it.
Leah pulled her gently to her feet. "You're doing great."
"I haven't done anything yet."
"You stood up. That's the hard part."
Travis walked behind them as Leah led Megan across the concrete, past the last lounger, past the edge of the pool light, to the cabana's curtain. She pushed it aside.
The men had rearranged themselves. Darius sat in the corner chair, legs spread, watching the entrance. Malik and Terrence shared the long bench against the back wall. DeShawn leaned against the post, arms crossed.
All four of them went quiet when Megan stepped through.
Leah felt the woman's hand tighten around hers.
"Gentlemen," Leah said, and her voice came out steadier than she expected, "this is Megan."
Darius's eyes traveled the length of her. Slow. Appreciative. "Megan." He said it like he was tasting the word. "Welcome."
Megan's breath came quick. Her runners body was taut, every muscle holding tension. She looked at Leah with something between terror and hunger.
Leah squeezed her hand once, then let go. She turned to Travis, who had stopped just inside the curtain, arms crossed, watching with that same quiet stillness he always wore.
She walked to the wide chair in the center of the cabana — the one she'd been bent over, spread across, filled on. She turned her back to it, and lowered herself onto Travis's lap, her sundress riding up as she straddled him.
His hands found her hips. Automatic. Familiar.
"What are you doing?" he asked, low enough that only she could hear.
She reached between them, found his belt, unbuckled it. "Riding my husband."
The cabana fell silent. The men watched. Megan watched.
Leah pulled his cock out — hard already, thick in her hand — and lifted her hips, positioning the head at her entrance. She was still wet from the last round, still slick with it, and she sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch, feeling the stretch and the fullness and the way his breath caught when she settled fully onto him.
"Fuck," Travis breathed.
She started to move. Slow. Rolling her hips in a lazy circle, feeling him deep inside her, feeling the weight of every eye in the room on her body.
She was in charge.
The thought sparked through her chest, hot and unfamiliar. She was the one setting the rhythm. She was the one he was following.
"You like this," she said. Not a question.
Travis's hands tightened on her waist. "Yeah."
"You like watching me tell them what to do."
His jaw clenched. "Leah."
She rode him slower. Deliberate. Letting him feel every inch of the drag. "Answer me."
"Yes." The word came out rough. "I like it."
She leaned forward, pressed her mouth to his. Soft. Almost tender. Then she pulled back and looked at Megan.
"Strip for them."
Megan's eyes went wide. Her hands stayed at her sides.
"You heard me." Leah's voice was calm. Firm. The voice of someone who had been exactly where Megan was standing, twelve hours ago. "Take off your clothes. Slowly. Let them see you."
Megan's hand moved to the hem of her cover-up. She pulled it over her head, revealing a modest one-piece, navy blue, the kind a suburban mom wore to the pool. Nothing sexy. Nothing designed to draw attention.
Leah kept riding Travis, slow and deep, as she watched. "Slower," she said. "Make them wait."
Megan's fingers found the strap of her swimsuit. She pulled it down her shoulder. Then the other. The suit sagged forward, and she crossed her arms to hold it up, suddenly shy.
"No," Leah said. "Let it fall."
Megan's arms dropped. The suit slid down her body, pooling at her feet. She stood naked in front of four men, her small breasts rising and falling with each quick breath, her hands hovering at her sides like she didn't know where to put them.
Married twenty-five years. Never been with a black man. And now she was naked in front of four of them.
"Get on your knees," Leah said.
Megan's knees hit the cushion of the bench. She looked at Leah, eyes pleading.
Leah didn't stop riding. "I know. It's a lot. But you're here now. And I promise you, you don't want to leave."
Megan's breath shook. But she stayed.
Leah nodded at the men. "Stand in front of her. All of you."
They moved. Darius first, then Malik, then Terrence, then DeShawn. They arranged themselves in a loose semicircle in front of Megan's knees, their shorts tented, their cocks hard and pressing against the fabric.
"Take out their cocks," Leah said. "One at a time. Slowly."
Megan's hand trembled as she reached for Darius's shorts. She pulled the waistband down, and his cock sprang free — thick, dark, uncut, already slick at the tip. Megan's breath caught. Her eyes went wide.
"I know," Leah said softly. "I know."
Megan just stared. Her hand hovered, not touching.
"Go on," Leah said. "Touch it."
Megan's fingers wrapped around the shaft. She couldn't close her hand all the way. She looked up at Darius, and there was something new in her expression — shock, yes, but also wonder. Like she'd never realized a man could be built like this.
She stroked him once, tentative. Then again, surer.
"Next one," Leah said.
Megan's hand moved to Malik's shorts. Pulled them down. His cock was longer, leaner, curved slightly upward. She took it in her other hand, holding both now, her eyes moving between them.
"You've never seen anything like this," Leah said. "Have you."
Megan shook her head.
"Terrence," Leah said. "Show her."
Terrence stepped forward, pushed his shorts down. His cock was the thickest of the four — almost intimidatingly so — and when Megan saw it, her mouth dropped open.
"You can use your mouth," Leah said. "When you're ready."
Megan hesitated. Then she leaned forward and took Terrence's cock in her mouth — just the head, her lips stretched wide, her eyes watering almost immediately.
Leah felt Travis throb inside her. She was still riding him, slow and steady, and she could feel how hard he was, how close.
"Let her work," Leah said. To Megan: "Use your hands. A cock in each hand, your mouth on the third. Go between them. Let them feel you."
Megan's hands moved. Darius in her left, Malik in her right. Her mouth stayed on Terrence, bobbing slowly, her jaw straining against the stretch.
Darius's hand found the back of her head. Not forcing. Just resting there. Guiding.
"You're doing good," Leah said. "You're doing so good."
Megan's rhythm steadied. She took Terrence deeper, her nose brushing his skin, her throat working around him. Then she pulled off, panting, and turned her mouth to Malik, then to Darius, then back to Terrence, each time taking a little more, learning the weight and taste and heat of each one.
DeShawn stood to the side, still waiting. His cock was hard, the head dark and swollen.
"Don't forget him," Leah said.
Megan's hand found DeShawn's cock. She stroked him while she worked the others with her mouth, her rhythm becoming something almost practiced, almost hungry.
Leah watched it happen. Watched the timid married woman dissolve into someone who wanted this — who needed it. She remembered the feeling. The surrender. The way her own body had opened to these men like it had been waiting for them her whole life.
Travis's hand found her breast under her sundress. His thumb circled her nipple, and she moaned, her hips picking up speed.
"You're close," she said.
"Yeah."
"Good." She rode him harder. "Come inside me."
He thrust up into her, once, twice, and then his hands clamped down on her hips and she felt him empty into her, hot and pulsing, filling her the way he had a dozen times before but never like this — never with her in control.
She kept moving through it, drawing out every last shudder, until he went still beneath her.
The cabana was quiet except for the wet sound of Megan's mouth working.
Leah looked down at her husband. His eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell in deep, slow breaths.
She leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
"Stay," she said. "Watch."
She lifted off him, his cum dripping down her thighs, and turned back to the scene in front of her.
Megan had all four of them now — her mouth on DeShawn, her hands working Terrence and Malik, her eyes closed, her body swaying with the rhythm of it. She was gone. Transformed. The married woman from the pool deck had been replaced by someone who moved like she'd been doing this her whole life.
Darius caught Leah's eye. He nodded once. Approval.
Leah smiled.
She lowered herself onto the bench beside Megan, close enough to feel the heat coming off her skin, and whispered, "How does it feel?"
Megan pulled her mouth off DeShawn long enough to gasp, "I don't know."
"Yes you do."
Megan's eyes found hers. The shock was still there, but underneath it — underneath everything — was the same hunger Leah had seen in herself that first night.
"Good," Megan breathed.
"Good," Leah echoed.
And she settled in to watch.
Megan's rhythm found its own pace. Her mouth moved from DeShawn to Terrence, her hands never stopping their work on the others, and there was something almost musical in the way she shifted between them — a dance she hadn't known she knew.
Leah watched her husband's cum cool on her thighs. She didn't wipe it away. She let it sit there, evidence of what she'd taken, what she'd commanded. The men had noticed. Malik's eyes kept drifting to the slick shine on her skin, and she saw his cock twitch each time he looked.
Darius shifted in his chair. "She's a natural," he said. Low. For Leah's ears only.
"She just needed permission."
"Don't we all."
Leah felt the words settle in her chest. She looked at Megan — at the way her jaw worked, the way her throat flexed as she took Terrence deeper, the way her fingers curled around Malik's shaft like she was memorizing the feel of it. The timid woman from the pool deck was gone. In her place was someone who had discovered a part of herself she'd buried under twenty-five years of marriage and routine.
Megan pulled off Terrence with a wet gasp. Her mouth was swollen, her chin slick with spit and pre-cum. She looked at Leah, and there was something raw in her eyes. Something unguarded.
"I want to taste one," she said. Her voice was hoarse. "All the way. I want to taste one come."
Leah felt a smile pull at her mouth. "Which one?"
Megan's gaze traveled over the four men. Darius, still seated, watching her with those dark, patient eyes. Malik, lean and hungry, his cock glistening from her mouth. Terrence, thick and straining, his chest heaving. DeShawn, quiet, waiting, his hand wrapped around his own shaft.
Her eyes stopped on Malik.
He stepped forward without being asked, his cock level with her mouth. "Open."
She did. Wide. Her tongue flat, her eyes locked on his.
He pushed in. Not slow. Not gentle. He pushed in until his cock hit the back of her throat, and Megan's body seized — her hands flying to his thighs, her eyes watering — but she didn't pull away. She held. She took it.
"That's it," Malik said. His voice was rough. "Take all of it."
He fucked her mouth in short, hard strokes. Megan's throat worked around him, her gag reflex fighting, her body learning. Saliva spilled down her chin. Her hands gripped his thighs hard enough to leave marks.
Leah felt her own body respond. The heat between her legs, still wet with Travis's cum, pulsed with a hunger she hadn't expected. She watched Megan take it — watched her surrender to the same thing that had broken Leah open the night before — and she understood, finally, why Travis had wanted to share her.
It wasn't about the men. It was about watching someone else become what they were meant to be.
Malik's rhythm stuttered. His hand found the back of Megan's head, fingers tangling in her hair, and he held her there as he came — hot and thick, shooting down her throat, his body going rigid with the force of it. Megan swallowed. Once. Twice. Her eyes never left his.
When he pulled out, she stayed on her knees, mouth open, tongue out, showing him she'd taken every drop.
"Good girl," Malik said. He stepped back, his chest heaving.
Megan looked at Leah. There were tears on her cheeks, but she was smiling. A real smile. The kind that came from somewhere deep.
"I did it," she said.
"You did."
Megan's hand found Leah's. Squeezed. "Thank you."
Leah squeezed back. "Don't thank me yet. You've still got three more."
Megan laughed — a breathless, surprised sound — and turned back to the men. Her hand found Darius first, pulling him closer. "I want to try you now."
Darius stood. He was the tallest of them, and when he stepped in front of Megan, she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. His cock was hard again, dark and heavy, the head slick with pre-cum.
"On your back," he said. "I want to see you take it."
Megan hesitated. Just a beat. Then she lay back on the cushion, her legs falling open, her body bared to all of them.
Darius knelt between her thighs. He didn't push in immediately. He dragged the head of his cock through her folds, watching her face, watching her lips part, watching her hips tilt up to meet him.
"Please," she whispered.
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me."
He pushed in. Slow. Deliberate. Letting her feel every inch of the stretch. Megan's back arched, her mouth opening in a silent cry, her hands clawing at the cushion beneath her.
"Oh god," she gasped. "Oh god, you're so—"
"Big," Darius finished. "I know."
He started to move. Long, deep strokes that made her body rock with each one. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, and she made a sound — high and desperate — that filled the cabana.
Leah watched her husband's face. Travis had opened his eyes. He was watching her, not Megan, and there was something new in his expression. Something she hadn't seen before.
Respect.
She smiled at him. Slow. Knowing.
Then she turned back to watch Megan get fucked by a man who wasn't her husband, and she felt the rightness of it settle into her bones like a second skin.
This was what she was built for. Not just to be used — but to guide. To show. To give permission.
Megan's cries grew sharper. Her hips bucked against Darius's thrusts, her body chasing something she'd never known she needed. "I'm close," she gasped. "I'm so close."
"Not yet," Darius said. He pulled out, leaving her empty and trembling. "You come when I say."
Megan whimpered. But she didn't argue.
Darius looked at Leah. "She's yours. What do you want?"
Leah considered. The cabana was hot and close, full of the smell of sex and sweat and cum. Four men, waiting. One woman, opened. And her husband, watching.
She stood, walked to Megan, and knelt beside her. Megan's hand found hers again, gripping like a lifeline.
"One more round," Leah said. "Then I'm taking her back to her husband."
Megan's eyes went wide. "Back?"
"He'll never know. But you will." Leah leaned in, close enough to feel the heat of Megan's skin. "Every time he touches you from now on, you'll remember what it felt like to be touched by men who actually know how."
Megan's breath caught. Then she nodded.
Leah stood, turned to the men, and said, "Take turns. One at a time. Fill her up. Each of you fill her pussy, and Travis babe, when they are done with her, I want you to fill her ass.” Megan’s eyes went wide”I’ve…I’ve never done anal with anyone.”she said. “Well the honey I guess my husband is in for a treat then isn’t he? Boys, make her cum until she forgets her name.
They moved.
Darius pulled out of Megan with a wet sound, leaving her empty and trembling on the cushion. Before she could catch her breath, he gripped her hip and rolled her over, onto her hands and knees. The position changed everything — her back arched, her ass lifted, her head dropped between her shoulders. She looked back at him, eyes wide and dark.
"Like this," he said. Not a question.
He lined up and pushed in without warning. All of him, in one long stroke that made Megan's body lurch forward. Her palms slid on the cushion, her arms buckling, and a sound tore out of her throat — something between a gasp and a sob.
"That's it," Darius said, his voice low and steady. He pulled back and drove into her again, harder. "Take it."
Megan's knuckles went white against the cushion. Her mouth hung open, a string of spit connecting her lower lip to the fabric beneath her. Darius set a rhythm — fast, punishing, each thrust rocking her forward until she had to brace against the bench's arm to keep from collapsing.
"Oh god," Megan gasped. "Oh god, oh god—"
"That's not his name." Darius's hand found the back of her neck, pressing her down until her cheek pressed against the cushion. "Say my name."
"Darius." It came out broken. "Darius, please—"
"Please what?"
"Please don't stop."
He didn't. His hips slapped against her ass, the sound sharp and wet in the close air of the cabana. Megan's moans climbed, her body tensing, her fingers curling into the cushion like she was holding on for dear life.
"Come," Darius said. "Now."
She did. Her body seized around him, a sharp cry ripping from her throat as her orgasm crashed through her. Darius kept fucking her through it, his pace never slowing, drawing out every pulse and shudder until she went limp beneath him.
"Again," he said.
Megan sobbed. "I can't—"
"Yes you can." He drove into her deeper, angling his hips, finding something that made her whole body jerk. "Again."
Her second orgasm hit before she could argue. It was harder than the first, tearing through her like a wave, and she screamed into the cushion, her legs trembling so hard she could barely stay upright. Darius rode her through it, relentless, his breath coming in rough pulls.
"Third one," he said. "You wanted to be filled. You don't get it until you give me three."
Megan's hand reached back, clawing at his thigh, her mouth open and wet. "I can't—please—I've never—"
"I know." He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back onto him with each thrust, taking her deeper. "You're doing it anyway."
The third one built slower. Megan's moans turned into a continuous sound — high and desperate — and her body started to shake before the peak hit. When it came, it was quiet. Her whole frame went rigid, her mouth open in a silent scream, and Darius fucked her through it until she collapsed, her cheek pressed flat against the cushion, her breath coming in ragged heaves.
"Good girl." He drove into her three more times, hard and deep, and then he stilled. His body went tight, his hand clamping down on her hip, and Leah watched his cock pulse as he filled her — hot and thick, leaking into her pussy, marking her from the inside.
He stayed there a moment, breathing hard. Then he pulled out, his cum spilling down Megan's thighs, dripping onto the cushion beneath her.
DeShawn was already moving in before Darius had cleared the bench. He didn't flip Megan over. He knelt behind her, positioned himself at her entrance, and pushed in with a single, hard thrust that made Megan's whole body jolt.
"Oh, fuck," Megan gasped. Her voice was hoarse, wrecked. "Oh, fuck—"
DeShawn was quieter than Darius. His rhythm was steady, measured, each stroke deliberate. But he was big — thick in a way that stretched Megan's body to its limit, and she made a sound every time he bottomed out, a breathless little cry that cut through the cabana's silence.
Megan's sounds grew louder. She wasn't holding back anymore. The third man inside her, the third cock filling her, and she was losing whatever grip she'd had on her own voice. Her moans turned into gasps, her gasps into sharp cries, and then she was just making sound — raw and animal and unashamed.
Leah stood. Her thighs were still slick with Travis's cum, cooling against her skin, but she didn't wipe it away. She walked to the bench, lowered herself onto her back in front of Megan, and pulled the woman's head down between her legs.
Megan's mouth met Leah's cunt with a surprised gasp. Then she understood. Her tongue found Leah's clit, her lips closed around it, and she started to work — hungry, desperate, muffling her own cries against the wet heat of Leah's body.
Leah's head fell back. Megan's tongue was clumsy at first, untrained, but there was urgency in it — a need to please, to earn what she was receiving. Her mouth moved faster as DeShawn fucked her harder, and Leah felt the vibration of Megan's moans against her clit, felt them through her own body like a second pulse.
"That's it," Leah breathed. "Use your mouth. Good girl."
Megan's tongue found a rhythm. Her hands gripped Leah's thighs, holding herself in place, and she worked Leah's clit while DeShawn worked her from behind, her cries swallowed by the slick heat between Leah's legs.
Leah watched the cabana ceiling. Watched the shadows move. Felt the wet drag of Megan's tongue and the heat of her breath and the trembling of her body as she was fucked from behind.
DeShawn's rhythm stuttered. He drove into Megan once, twice, three more times, and then he came — a low grunt the only sound he made, his body going rigid as he emptied into her, adding his cum to the mess already leaking down her thighs.
He pulled out. Megan's mouth stayed locked on Leah's clit, her tongue still moving, her breath coming in ragged bursts against Leah's skin.
Terrence stepped up. He didn't wait for Megan to lift her head. He knelt behind her, lined up with her pussy — already slick with two men's cum — and pushed in with a single, hard thrust that made Megan's body jolt so hard her teeth scraped against Leah's clit.
"Fuck," Leah gasped. Her hand found the back of Megan's head, pressing her down harder. "Don't stop."
Megan didn't. Her tongue kept working, her mouth sealed around Leah's clit, and the vibration of her moans — high and desperate — traveled through Leah's body like electricity. Terrence fucked her hard, fast, his hips slapping against her ass with a rhythm that filled the cabana with wet sound, and Megan took all of it, her throat working as she swallowed her own cries against Leah's cunt.
Leah felt her own orgasm building. The heat of Megan's mouth, the weight of the scene, the knowledge that she was the one who had made this happen — it pushed her toward the edge like a tide.
"I'm close," she said. Her voice was breathless. "Don't stop. Don't—"
Megan's tongue pressed harder. Her mouth moved faster. And when Terrence drove into her with a final, desperate thrust and came — his hand gripping her hip, his body shaking — Megan's answering scream vibrated right through Leah's clit, and Leah came.
It hit her like a wave, hot and sharp, and she heard herself moan as her hips bucked against Megan's face. Her hand tightened in Megan's hair, holding her there, riding her tongue through every pulse until the last shudder faded.
She lay there, breathing hard, the cabana ceiling swimming above her. Megan's mouth was still pressed against her, lips soft, breath warm.
Malik stepped forward.
Terrence pulled out, his cum leaking down Megan's thigh, mixing with the other two. He stepped aside, and Malik took his place.
He didn't push in slowly. He grabbed Megan's hips, positioned himself, and drove into her with a single, brutal thrust that made Megan's whole body lurch forward. Her mouth tore away from Leah's cunt, a sharp cry escaping her — but Leah caught her head, guided her back down.
"You're not done," Leah said. Her voice was steady now, even as her chest heaved. "Finish what you started."
Megan's mouth found her again. Her tongue was tired, sloppy, but she kept working, and her muffled screams vibrated against Leah's skin as Malik fucked her like he meant to break her.
He was the hardest of them. The most brutal. Each thrust drove Megan forward, her body rocking, her hands scrambling for purchase on the cushion. Her muffled cries turned into something almost animal — high and desperate and without shame.
Malik's hand found her hair. He pulled her head back, her mouth tearing away from Leah's cunt with a wet sound, and she screamed — a raw, desperate sound that filled the cabana.
"Harder," she begged. "Please, harder—"
Malik gave it to her. His hips slammed against her, the sound of skin on skin sharp and wet, and Megan's screams turned into something broken, something that didn't sound like words anymore.
Leah sat up. She watched Malik fuck Megan into submission — watched the married woman's body give itself over to something primal, something she'd never known she had in her. Megan's eyes were glassy, her mouth open, her hands gripping the cushion like she was drowning.
"You're beautiful like this," Leah said. Soft. Almost a whisper. "Do you know that?"
Megan's eyes found hers. There were tears on her cheeks. But she was smiling.
Malik drove into her one last time and held. His body went rigid, his jaw clenched, and he came — a long, shuddering release that filled her with the fourth man's cum, leaking out around his cock as he pulled out.
Megan collapsed. Her face hit the cushion, her body limp, her thighs slick with cum from four different men. Her chest rose and fell in deep, ragged breaths.
The cabana was quiet. The only sound was Megan's breathing and the distant splash of the pool beyond the curtain.
Leah stood. She walked to her husband, who was still seated in the chair, his cock soft but his eyes hungry. She looked down at him, and something passed between them — something that didn't need words.
She turned back to the bench. To Megan, lying there, filled and trembling, her body open and used and beautiful.
"Travis," Leah said. "Come claim your trophy."
Travis stood. His eyes never left Megan's body — the curve of her ass, the mess dripping down her thighs, the way she lay there waiting, knowing what was coming.
He walked to the bench. He didn't ask. He didn't check. He knelt behind Megan, positioned himself at her ass, and pushed.
Megan's body seized. Her hands clawed the cushion, a sharp cry escaping her — the only virgin territory left on her body, the one thing she'd never given anyone. Travis pushed again, slow, his cock stretching her, opening her, and Megan's cry turned into a moan.
"Oh," she breathed. "Oh, that's—"
Travis pushed deeper. His hand found her hip, steadying her, and he sank into her inch by inch until he was fully seated, buried in her ass, his cum dripping out of her pussy onto his thighs.
He started to move. Slow at first. Letting her adjust. Letting the stretch become something she could take.
Megan's hand reached out, blindly, and found Leah's. Squeezed.
Leah squeezed back.
"You're mine," Travis said. His voice was low. Rough. "This ass is mine. Every time you think about tonight, you'll feel me there."
Megan's breath hitched. "Yes."
Travis fucked her ass with a steady rhythm, each thrust pushing a little deeper, and Megan's body opened to him like it had been waiting for this her whole life. Her moans were different now — softer, fuller, like she was being filled in a way she'd never known she needed.
Leah watched her husband take another woman's ass. Watched him claim the final virgin territory on the body she'd handed to him. And she felt nothing but rightness.
This was hers. The gift. The act of giving. The transformation of a woman who had been sleeping for twenty-five years, finally woken by a man who wasn't her husband, in an ass that had never been touched, claimed by a husband who wasn't hers.
Travis's rhythm quickened. His breath came harder. He drove into Megan's ass one last time and held there, his body going rigid, a low groan escaping his throat as he came inside her — filling her final hole with his cum, sealing the gift.
Megan's whole body trembled. Her hand, still gripping Leah's, tightened until it almost hurt.
Travis pulled out slowly. His cum leaked from Megan's ass, mixing with the rivers of it already running down her thighs. He stood, stepped back, and looked at his wife.
Leah looked back at him. Then at Megan — beautiful Megan, wrecked Megan, transformed Megan, lying there with cum from five men covering her skin like a baptism.
Leah knelt beside her. Brushed the hair from her face. Pressed a kiss to her temple.
"You're going to go back to your husband now," Leah said softly. "You're going to put your swimsuit back on, and you're going to lie down beside him, and you're going to feel every drop of this for the rest of the night."
Megan's eyes fluttered open. She was crying, but she was smiling. "Thank you," she whispered. I lost count of how many times I came. A man hasn’t made me cum since college. Thank you. I needed, wanted that more than I realized.”
"Don't thank me." Leah stood and looked at the four men, still watching from their places around the cabana. "Remember her."
Darius nodded once. Malik's eyes held hers. Terrence and DeShawn just watched, their chests still heaving.
Megan speaks between broken pants,”How, how long are all of you here?”
“We have a few more days baby.” Leah answers. Darius responds “We are here for two more, and we have the cabana tomorrow as well.” Megan smiles “I’m here with another couple. My best friend and old sorority sister Maria. She a thick Colombian girl just a touch older than me. Beautiful though, she wears her years well. She’s married to a boring asshole i’ve never liked, and she’s bored out of her skull with him. Hasn’t made her cum in years.”
“Our husbands have a tee time tomorrow at noon and then are going to dinner and a show together. Said not to expect them until late. And us girls could find something to entertain ourselves.”
She looked around every person present was smiling at her. “Yes,” Leah answered for all of them. “Bring her here tomorrow. We can make good use of the cabana and then the room after. Boys, you all up for some more debauchery?”
“Always” they all respond at once.
“Get dressed and go back to your husband, he’s still passed out, I peaked out to make sure.”
“Then come find us tomorrow, I can’t wait.”
Megan stands and pulls on her swimsuit, cum seeping into the fabric at her crotch. Wipes her legs off with her cover up and fixes her hair. “See you all tomorrow, and thanks again.” she says as she disappears through the curtain.