My large aqua-blue eyes opened slowly, awakened by the feel of his strong hands splaying my perfect ass cheeks, and the bulbous tip of his cock pressed against my sleepy unsuspecting rosebud. My eyelids were heavy and my vision of the familiar room blurred from hours of heartless sex the night before, with little sleep. I was sore and messy from being used all night by him, without being allowed to cum. My eyes squinted seeing the first rays of sunlight streaming into the bedroom.

My long fingers instinctively reached out and grabbed hold of the plush sheets, preparing myself for what I knew would happen next. With most guys, I wouldn’t need to brace myself. But Mark Maculiff isn’t like most guys, and neither is his cock.

Mark first walked into the bar where I tend six months ago. He was there to meet a Tinder date, who stood him up. He spent the evening boasting about his wealth and talking with strangers about his favorite topic – himself. He was dressed to impress, from his tailored sport coat to his Rolex. He made sure everyone knew about his success as a real estate developer, his three homes, his travels, and Maserati parked out front.

Mark is six-foot, one, athletic and fit, but not jacked like a gym rat. He’s not bad to look at. He’s bald, with brown eyes and a devilish smile. He exudes a natural charm when in public and around people, but struts his strong Alpha-male dominance behind closed doors. His wounded bruised ego that night made him my perfect prey.

I stalked him all evening, using everything I have to lure him in. I’m good at it. No one has ever been able to resist my seduction. I knew what he wanted, especially after being stood up. He boasted all evening about all his money, which I now wanted. Some people see me as a whore, manipulating and using men to get what I want. I see it more as using what I have to get what I deserve. I’m an opportunist. By the end of the night, we had come to an arrangement. I would give him what he wanted, and he would give me what I wanted. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. My fiancé wouldn’t like that.

Mark likes owning the best of whatever he has, whether his house, his car, his tech, his clothes – or a girl. He said he wanted me at his complete disposal, anytime he is in town. I smiled telling him it would cost him. By the end of our negotiations, I had this upscale furnished condo, access to a new Lexus, and seven thousand a month for expenses. For that, he would have me, without any limits. I personally think he got a steal. It was a steal my fiancé couldn’t know about. 

That wasn’t easy. This deal was costly. Mark told me a couple of months into our arrangement that I needed to postpone my wedding if I wanted to continue. I was shocked. My fiancé was angry. He didn’t understand why I would suddenly put our wedding on hold without any good reason. Venue deposits were lost and we had to notify our guests. It created chaos and friction. The wedding was going to be my dream day. But my new arrangement with Mark is also a dream, and too good to walk away from. Why pick one, when I could get both from the two men? I would still get my wedding, while also bilking my new luxuries from Mark. I deserved it.

Mark’s familiar thick, ten-inch morning wood pressed against my ass without saying a word. I moaned in anticipation. He turned me over onto my stomach and pushed an overstuffed pillow under me, elevating my perfect round ass for his use. His hands spread my cheeks again. He spat on my rosebud before plunging his cock into me. My fingers gripped the sheets like a vice. My back arched. He grabbed my long raven hair in his hands and pulled my head back. I gasped out loud, only encouraging his rough action. Fuck, I’m good.

“You like that, Bitch,” he said, more as a statement than a question.

“Fuck, yes!” I lied, knowing what he wanted to hear. That’s why I was in the bed. He knew that talking dirty to me turned me on. The ring of fire burned as he rode me, burying his cock deeper with each thrust.

I was his fuck toy. Nothing more. I wondered again if it was worth it, gasping from the thickness of his cock penetrating me. His hard spank on my pale ass pulled me out of my thoughts. He pulled my hair back, like reins on a horse. He reached around with his hand and took hold of my large tit. He squeezed it hard, before capturing my erect nipple between his thumb and fingers.

I whimpered.

“Such a fucking whore?” he blurted, as he twisted my sensitive, firm thimble. My loins stirred from the nipple attention. He knew they are so sensitive they sometimes make me cum when sucked or stimulated. It has been months since he allowed me to cum.

I whimpered again, helpless to the full force of him fucking my ass. My body was highly aroused having been fucked all night before, only to be repeatedly denied. I was desperate to cum.

He suddenly let out a growl as he flooded my ass with what felt like a pint of thick cum. The force of him filling me, the stimulation of my nipple added to my already despairing need to climax brought me close. “Yes!” I said, raising my ass higher, encouraging him to continue. His strong body slammed against me. My fingers gripped the sheets harder. My climax grew closer. “Fuck me!” I squealed, as my own climax approached the point of no return. “Yes!”

Then suddenly, cruelly, he pulled out.

“Oh no, no, please don’t stop,” I begged. “Fuck me.”

He chuckled coldly, seeing me squirm beneath him. He used my raven hair as reins, pulling my head around to the side until my face was right in front of his cock, still dripping strands of cum. “Clean me up, Bitch.”

I dutifully opened my mouth and took him in. I could taste myself, mixed with the tang of his familiar cum. He fucked my face. My lips and tongue cleaned his cock. My pussy throbbed desperately, on the edge of my needed climax.

“Good, Whore,” he said, moving away from the bed.

“Please finish me,” I begged, leaning up to kiss him. “Let me cum for you,” lying that my desire to climax was for him.

“No,” he answered, turning his head as if disgusted at the thought of intimacy or a kiss. “You’re here for me, not the other way around, Slut. You cum only when I tell you.” He knew I was a better fuck denied and desperate. “Get up and make me some breakfast,” he said, walking out the bedroom door without even a look back. 

I sat at the table naked, watching him eating his bacon and eggs. He was wearing only Nike shorts. “You need to clear your calendar next week,” he blurted, without looking at me.

“I can’t,” I said, surprised at his surprise demand. “I have to work, and I have a wedding shower some friends are throwing me.”

“That’s too bad,” he said. “Call in sick, take vacation. I don’t care.”

“What about the shower? Lots of people are coming. It’s been planned for weeks. I gave them a date that would work for me because you weren’t going to be in town.”

“I’m not, and neither are you. You’re coming with me. It’s my annual reunion with my college frat buddies and you’re my plus one.”

“No, no, please,” I begged. “I can’t cancel the shower.”

“Then don’t cancel it. You just won’t be there.”

“That makes no sense. It’s for me!” 

“Then decide what you want more. Either cancel that or cancel all this,” he said waving his arm around at the room in a nonchalant way. “I’m not forcing you to be here, Slut. You can walk any time you want. It’s your life. It’s your choice. I just need to know now what you’re doing next week. You’re either coming with me or you’re moving out of this place. I don’t give a shit which.”

I couldn’t help wondering again if all this was worth it. How did I get myself into this? The questions were fleeting. I couldn’t help it.

I made my choice and found myself at five-star restaurant on the ground floor of our hotel. We had already been there a couple of days, socializing with Mark’s fraternity brothers and their wives and girlfriends. The five guys were all very comfortable with each other, which made meeting everyone easier. Their plus-ones were all gorgeous and pleasant enough, but silently competing with each other, and in front of the other guys, for who was the sexiest. Every day, the competition grew more intense by what we wore, or didn’t wear, when all together. The guys loved us showing off, especially when we acted slutty or exposed a little more than expected. Mark relished the silent competition.

The three days flew quickly with them playing golf, catching up and reminiscing over drinks. It was all pretty ordinary. On the last night together, they all decided to splurge and go out for this fancy dinner. Mark bought me a dress to wear for our final dinner. He left little to the imagination by me wearing the tiny, blue cocktail dress and matching four-inch heels. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to show me off. Knowing it was their last night together, the drinks, dinner, reminiscing and more drinks went for hours.

“You’re so lucky to be with Mark,” Stephanie leaned over and whispered. Her husband Doug was the former president of the fraternity. The gorgeous blonde looked at me, then Mark, then back at me as she said it. “He’s amazing. I’ve never had a better fuck.” Her words were almost bragging, as if she wanted me to know that she had him before I did. Mark smiled at his notice of Stephanie whispering into my ear.

My mind spun, in surprise, although I shouldn’t have been. “He is,” I answered, without elaborating. I wondered if she was reminiscing about their college days, or sometimes more recent – or both. “Maybe you had him before, but he has me now,” I wanted to say, but bit my tongue. It explained why the two of them had been eying one another the last few days, flirting and making comments like they had history. The truth was, for all I knew, he was still fucking her. Mark gets or takes what he wants.

“Always makes me wet thinking about it,” she said, as she leaned back into her chair. Her fingers secretly touched the inside of my thigh under the table. She smiled back at Mark, before offering a warm glance to Doug.

One by one, the wives and girlfriends retired to their rooms while the men continued to tell their stories. Stephanie was the last to go. We closed down the restaurant and Mark invited the men to his suite to continue the conversation.

Mark asked me to fix them all drinks, which I was glad to do. It came naturally, like being their personal bartender. I was enjoying myself, listening to them tell their stories. They were like long-lost brothers. I admit, I also enjoyed the glances the men gave, as the only female in the room.

With the passage of a little more time and alcohol, in the asylum of Mark’s suite, the men’s conversation became more vulgar. Doug blurted, “I imagine Alyssa’s a pretty mean cocksucker.”

I blushed, expecting him to say I was the best he’d ever had, which was saying something. Instead, he said, “Why don’t you tell me?”

My jaw dropped.

Mark motioned me over and told me to get down on my knees and suck his frat brother’s dick.

“But?” I said, stunned at his order.

Without another word, Mark just raised his eyebrow, communicating what was at stake if I didn’t obey. The men watched as I conceded, walked across the room, knelt down in front of his friend, looked up into the man’s eyes and lowered the zipper to his pants. The man’s eyes dropped to take in a full view of my exposed tits. His cock immediately started to harden in my hands. I lowered my head and took his cock in my mouth. Doug sat back with a smile on his face while the others gathered around and cheered with envy. I wondered what Stephanie would think about me on my knees, sucking her husband’s cock while the other men watched.

“So, how is she?” Mark spoke up, asking his friend.

“So far, so fucking good,” he answered, as I swallowed the entire length down my throat.

“Let’s see if we can improve the experience,” Mark answered, with a cocky tone. He pointed to another of the men and said, “Why don’t you take her from behind while she’s sucking his cock. She’s a horny little cunt, and that will make a difference.”

I gagged at his order.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

Mark smiled. “You’ve known me too long to ask that,” he said. “Fuck her. Use her anyway you want but be careful not to let the little whore cum.”

My whole body quivered, knowing I was about to be fucked from behind. I couldn’t believe what I heard Mark just say. It was one thing to the bartender for the room. It was another to be the room’s whore. And I couldn’t believe he told him not to let me cum. 

The zipper on the back of my dress lowered and my dress fall from my body, leaving me only in my thong and heels. The man moved in behind me and ripped my thong off. He raised the head of his cock to my helpless pussy.

“Fuck, the little slut is already wet,” he announced.

“She’s such a cunt,” Mark answered. The men all laughed.

“Damn,” one of the other men said. “I love that you can just order her to fuck. I wish my wife would do that.”

“Tonight’s your night, then,” Mark said. “Order anything you want from her. She’ll do anything you tell her. The only condition is don’t let the little bitch cum.”

I gagged, not only from the first load of cum from the man in front of me, but from Mark’s words. My mind raced. It was one thing to service Mark. It was another to be handed around by him to his frat brothers like a whore. My mind raced again. Was it all worth it? Was he serious? He just answered that question. I gagged again as another load of cum shot down my throat just as the long, thick, new cock plunged deep into my pussy from behind.

The five men spent the rest of the night and early morning hours using me to renew their bond with each other. They fucked me every way they wanted, making new memories they would reminisce about for years. They used me like there were ten whores in the room, chartered for the occasion. It was just me, and I did not disappoint. Mark made me tell them when I was close to cumming, so the men would stop and prevent me from the pleasure. He warned also warned me that if I climaxed, I’d have to find my own way back home and move out when I got there.  It was one thing for Mark to deny me, but for a room full of men, it was devastating. The more they deprived me, the more my body became desperate, and the sluttier I became.

When the sun came up, the men ended their party and returned to their rooms. They left me in the middle of the bed, filled with and covered in cum, completely used and denied. My pussy throbbed, overstimulated and destroyed. My ass burned. My stomach ached from all the cum I swallowed. My body, especially my face, tits and hair were covered with a thick layer of dried cum. I lay there sore and exhausted. I dozed off to sleep.

When I woke up, Mark was eating breakfast brought up by room service. I realized whoever delivered it saw me naked, lying covered in cum like a whore. Mark sat at the table eating his breakfast, disinterested. He looked smug like he had all night and morning, watching his best friends enjoy his wealth. He loved being king. He was the one they all wanted to be like. Last night they lived off his generosity in ways they would never forget.

I moaned as I rolled over and sat up, trying to read him. I did my best to walk toward him seductively, but my legs were weak. I was coated in cum and completely disheveled. My makeup was smeared and hair went in every direction. “Want to fuck?” I asked, hoping he’d maybe let me finally climax.

As I approached, he put his hand up, keeping me from getting closer. “I’m not going to think about touching you until you clean up, Whore. Even then, we’ll see if I let you fuck me. Don't you dare cum in the shower.”

I stopped, humiliated, like a discarded dirty rag. I slowly stumbled toward the bathroom. I turned the hot water on in the shower. Steam filled the spacious lavish bathroom. I stepped in the shower and closed the glass door, wondering if he would come in. The water beat down on my glazed, crusted skin. My body and mind were wrecked. How did I get myself into this situation? Was it all worth it? Could I continue just being used by him? The slutty, selfish opportunist in me knew the answer.

My phone suddenly buzzed, waking me from my daze, as the water continued to knead my used, naked body. I wiped the steam from the glass to read the name on the caller id as the phone vibrated on the counter. It was my fiancé. Part of me reeled in shame of my deceit and secret betrayal. The other was strangely self-impressed of what I am capable of.

I looked up at the handheld shower head, pulsating down on me. It was so tempting. After being fucked and denied all night, there was no doubt it would take only seconds to bring me to what my body craved most. I reached for it, and slowly closed my large aqua-blue eyes.