The grass was damp. Her knees sunk into the earth like it welcomed her, the hem of her skirt flipping up with the motion, baring the curve of her ass and the place between her thighs—already glistening, already needing this. Ally didn't hesitate. She never did. Not for them.
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Not for him either.
The first cock in her mouth belonged to Tyler—the same Tyler who used to stuff Jim into lockers junior year, who once snapped a towel so hard across Jim’s ass in the locker room that he bled. That Tyler. Now his fingers were tangled in Ally’s hair, hips rocking lazily, while she gagged herself open with practiced grace, spit and precum glistening on her chin.
Jim couldn’t move.
His dick pressed hard against his jeans, useless and aching. He hadn't even unzipped. Couldn't. He wouldn't let himself—not out here. Not with them watching him the same way they watched her, all those jeering eyes flicking between the submissive little freak in the corner and the gorgeous blonde slut on her knees, moaning around a thick cock like she was grateful for it.
Tyler looked at him.
Grinned.
“Damn, Jimmy,” he drawled, pulling Ally’s head off his cock with a loud pop. “She’s got a fuckin' gift, huh? Don’t know how you ended up with a slut like this.”
Ally wiped her chin with the back of her hand, then looked over her shoulder, eyes gleaming. “Because he needs me.”
Another guy stepped in before Jim could speak—Ben, maybe? The one with the stretched earlobes and the pierced tongue. Ally giggled when he slapped his cock against her cheek, smearing precum down her skin before feeding it between her lips. She moaned loud this time, putting her hands behind her back like she was being arrested, knees spread wide.
“Open your fly,” Tyler said, walking toward Jim. “Show her that little shrimp. Let her see what she gave up.”
Jim shook his head, trembling.
Tyler smirked, leaned in, and said it quieter: “You want her to stop?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
Because no. No, he didn’t want her to stop.
Ben had grabbed her head now, fucking her mouth properly, thrusting deep enough that tears streamed down Ally’s cheeks. She loved it. Her pussy glistened between her legs, juices trickling down her thighs, catching the string-light gleam. She wanted more. Needed it.
A third guy knelt behind her, lifting her skirt higher, spreading her with his thumbs. She arched her back like a cat in heat, moaning around the cock in her throat. Her voice vibrated, wet and needy.
“She’s ready,” he said. “Shit, man, she’s soaked.”
Tyler turned back to Jim.
“She beg for it like this when you're alone?” he asked. “Or does she just lie there and let you rub that tiny thing against her clit ‘til she pretends it counts?”
Jim's nails dug into the cup. He couldn’t speak.
Ben pulled out of her mouth with a wet slurp, and Ally gasped, drooling down her chest.
“She’s ready,” he echoed. “Let’s break her in.”
And then someone pushed into her.
The sound that came from Ally’s throat was obscene—half-scream, half-moan, the kind of sound that left every guy in earshot adjusting their pants. Her back arched deeper, hair a wild mess, and she threw a look over her shoulder that hit Jim like a punch to the gut.
"Watch me, baby," she panted, "watch me take a real one."
And he did.
While cock after cock disappeared into the girl he loved.
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