I wake up, dying for the loo, creep down the bed between the still-sleeping Clive and Pete, and go to the en-suite. I relieve myself, freshen up with a quick wash, and slip on my black slinky dressing gown, with the intention of going downstairs for a coffee. When I re-enter the bedroom, I see the two lads wide awake and sporting early-morning hard-ons, even though it is nearly afternoon.

"Good morning, you're pleased to see me then," I quip as my gown slips down with a shrug of my shoulders and I step toward the bed. Pete is the nearest, and I climb over his body, straddle him, take hold of his manhood and guide it to my eager entrance. Slowly, and with a nice degree of resistance, I'm not a complete slut, my pussy engulfs his cock.

Pete watches his cock disappear inside of me. After waiting a while, letting my canal lubricate itself a little more, I start riding Pete's cock. Slowly I rise up and down his lovely shaft, enjoying the feel of fresh cock in the morning. Then Pete joins in and starts humping in time with me, up with my down, gripping my hips to add more force as he rapidly nears his climax. After shooting his load inside me, he lies back, with me sitting on top of him, until his cock wilts and plops out of me naturally, followed shortly after by his cum dripping onto his pubes.

Rolling off him, I lie on my back in the middle of the bed and glance over at Clive, as Pete wanders off to the en-suite. Clive needs no further invitation and climbs over me, wiggles his way between my legs, and presents his throbbing cock to my pussy. After a few failed attempts to enter my pussy, I lend him a helping hand. Clive takes his time, gently slipping in and out of my tight little hole, enjoying himself and me. This works for me, too, as he stirs my inner fires. His cock is tormentingly missing my G-spot, but doing enough to bring me to orgasm. Not earth-shattering, but nice all the same. Clive keeps on going, maintaining his steady rhythm and my rolling orgasm. Oh, it's so lovely. Then, with two explosive thrusts, he explodes within me, filling me with his warm juice.

He pulls out immediately, climbs off me and the bed, and goes to the en-suite just as Pete emerges.

OK, I'll clean up later!

Pete gets dressed and chats happily. Like every day, he fucks a woman and then gets dressed in her naked presence after his best friend has also fucked her. I doubt it is!

Clive leaves the en-suite. It's my turn. I shower, wash my hair, and do all the other rituals—makeup, hair, and nails—before entering an empty bedroom to get dressed. No, not dressed; I slip on my black slinky dressing gown. It's knee-length, floaty, soft, and sheer enough to be enticing but not entirely see-through.

"Morning, lads," I call out as I descend the stairs. They're all down, some looking green around the edges, and everyone, including Clive and Pete, strangely, is subdued. I get a few waves and grunts, and that's it. They must have drunk more than I did last night.

While making coffee, I notice the time: It's just past one p.m.! Then, looking out the window, I see it's been raining, and the sky looks dark and grey. Not hot tub or barbecue weather, then. We were lucky with the weather yesterday. How do I keep my boys entertained? Even though that doesn't look like a need or a problem yet?

I curl up on the settee, drink coffee, and look around. The lads are all drinking coffee or water, and in some cases, they're slowly brightening up. It's nearly three p.m. before they look alive, realise how hungry they are, and search the kitchen.

That's better; we're all fed, and the lads have perked up.

"I've enjoyed myself the last few times we've gotten together," I announce happily. "However, you could do better."

"What?" exclaims Pete. "You got fucked, God knows how many times last night."

"Quantity is nice, but quality is too. Combine the two, and you have something else." I grin. "So I will explain what women like, or at least what this woman likes. Don't forget we are all different, and certainly, very few are as cock hungry as I am." They all laugh.

"Firstly, start gently. Caress lightly over any exposed skin. Neck, shoulders, legs, etc., moving on to more intimate areas only by invitation and agreement." I open my gown, exposing my boobs. "Gently stroke around the globe; don't make a beeline to the nipple; work up to it and look and listen for any response. Only increase the pressure, nipping, and tugging if you see signs. If you get past the boobs, lucky man. Now, before exploring lower..." I stand and drop my robe to the floor. "You must have clean and neatly manicured hands and fingernails. Pete, come here."

He does as asked, and I take his hand. He often gets ribbed for his meticulous appearance; in this case, it works in his favour.

"See, clean, neat, and smooth nails," I continue. "You can sit down now," I instruct Pete.

"Down here," I say as I circle my pussy with my fingers, "are three important areas to consider. The entrance, which is smooth and well endowed with sensitive nerve endings; the lips, pliable and fun; and the clitoris, which all of you have trouble finding.

"Stroking and licking around the entrance will get me wet, enabling easy entry. Pulling gently at my lips is simply fun, but my clitoris will bring me to orgasm if treated right. To find it, you must pull back the hood to expose it. Mine is very small; some are large, and all must be found first."

While talking, I also demonstrate the actions required, apart from the licking bits!

"I like mine being licked or stroked from side to side; everyone is different, so experiment with your future girlfriends; it's fun."

"What about the G-spot? Does it exist?" Winston asks rather enthusiastically.

"Oh yes, it exists. Would you like to know how to find it?" I tease.

What a silly question!

"Pete, come back here," I order. "In my mind, the G-spot is the base of the clitoris, so you can see it is at the top section of the vagina and is reachable with fingers. Pete, give me your hand."

He can see where this is going as I take his index and middle finger into my mouth. Then I slip them into my pussy. I lean back and instruct him to feel along my upper vaginal wall. I will tell him when he hits the spot.

He doesn't need telling, as I jump when he finds it.

"That's it," I stammer. "Keep rubbing your fingers around that area until I tell you to stop."

He's a quick learner, as he strokes my most sensitive spot. I can feel an orgasm building and should tell him to stop, but I can't. It's so lovely. I suddenly buck my hips skyward as he takes me over the edge. Still, he is unfazed and continues stroking my G-spot and moving in unison with my heaving body as he pushes me toward screaming point. Even then, he continues, and I have to grab his wrist, pull him out, and slam my legs together. I'm beyond speaking.

Even as the lads are congratulating him, my legs are being pulled apart, and someone pulls back my hood and sucks my exposed clitoris into his mouth; it's almost painful, but he quickly relents and starts flicking it side to side with his tongue. Oh yes, another orgasm rocks my body.

More fingers enter my body and search out my G-spot, finding it quickly and rubbing it hard. Then a thumb is running over my clit, gently rubbing it back and forth. It's too much, and an exquisite, thunderous orgasm engulfs me.

I have no time to recover; as soon as someone is finished with me, their place is taken by someone licking around my entrance. Poking a tongue in as far as it can reach, tickling all the sensitive nerves. Sending pulses of pleasure through me before starting to suck on my lips, pulling and stretching them, which in turn pulls my hood over my clit. Hiding it once again, only for it to be rediscovered as the tongue moves up to it and starts lapping and nipping at it gently. I'm squirming in pleasure, gripping the cushions on the settee in a vice-like grip as my body responds to the ministrations.

Fingers again find my inner pleasure centre, continuing the rolling orgasm that is threatening to make me pass out. Then I get a respite as I am lifted off the settee, only to be pushed backwards over its back. Stretched like a bow, my pussy is pointing skyward as a cock enters it smoothly. Yes, someone has worked out the angles as his cock runs over my G-spot. Fingers are fun, but this is the ultimate as his cock runs smoothly over my inner walls, in and out, stroking my fires to the point of no return. I scream and thrash about in pure ecstasy, and am being held in position by several pairs of hands to stop me from falling to the floor.

The cock eventually slips out of me, and its replacement wastes no time in prolonging my pleasure. It is thrust into me with gusto, time and time again, until it, too, is replaced. My body is engulfed in wave after wave of climactic pleasure as eight cocks take their turn tormenting my innermost sanctum. My mind keeps saying 'stop,' but the word never reaches my lips. This is like being at the Da Vinci Club, where pleasure can be used as punishment.

Falling over and onto the settee as the last cock leaves me, I curl up into a ball, breathing heavily and shaking in pleasure. Sweat is pouring out of me, as is their cum. I was unsure if they were cumming in me; it appears they were. Were they using me for their pleasure or mine? Perhaps both, I silently muse.

"Hey, I think we've broken her," some wit quips.

I raise my head and grin. "Nah, I'm just getting my breath." Then I push myself into a sitting position. "I could do with a drink, though." A can of lager is duly presented. It's not what I wanted, but I gulp it down greedily anyway.

"I'm going to get cleaned up," I announce, picking up my robe and walking through the kitchen to the shower room. I glance at the clock on my way and realise that only forty-five minutes have passed since I started explaining things to them. Damn, they were quick! But then I do find that multiple men using me never takes that long.

Thirty minutes later, I return to the lounge, refreshed and wearing my gown.

"Do you feel up to going out tonight? This is our treat. We are thinking of going to a nightclub in Nottingham," John asks me.

"That sounds like fun. I haven't been to one for a while." I smile, somewhat disappointed. I was looking forward to more sexy fun!

We arrive at the nightclub at nine o'clock. It took a while for everybody to get cleaned up, dressed, fed, and who gets to a club early anyway!

'Fleshtopia' flashes brightly above its doors. It's a pole-and-lap-dancing club. It seems the lads still need their flesh!

It's a vibrant, busy place with four pole-dancing stages and separate areas for lap dancing, a general dance floor, a bar, and blaring disco music. I'm pleased my outfit isn't out of place, either. My grey plaid Ra-Ra mini-skirt, paired with a white, loose crop top, fits right in, especially with the black stockings I'm wearing too. A black thong and no bra complete my ensemble.

Finding a spot for nine of us to sit takes a while, but we are lucky and end up near one of the stages, where a girl has just started her routine. I am impressed; her strength and dexterity are admirable. Her drop-dead gorgeousness passes me by. The boys notice, though, and soon offer tips.

We drink, chat, watch, and dance the night away. It is very relaxing and convivial. I dance with most of the lads at some point; hands wander, but not too much. They are all very respectful in public, somewhat unexpectedly.

We've been here for over two hours when an announcer comes on stage, and I notice that all the stages are empty.

"Ladies and Gents, you've seen how it's done, and now it's time to see if you can do it as well. The stages are available for the next sixty minutes for anybody to use. Impress us, and there is a reward of one hundred pounds," he announces. "Oh, and you only have five minutes for your performance. Good luck, and enjoy yourselves."

Several girls—almost a stampede—make their way to the stages to do their best.

They all do well. Some are drunk, others simply uncoordinated, but most do a pretty fair job. The audience is enjoying it all, especially some of the drunken attempts.

Winston shouts in my ear, "Why don't you give it a go?"

I shake my head.

He speaks to Jake next to him, and he, in turn, talks to his neighbour until he gets back to me in my other ear.

Sam whispers, "Go on, Sharon. You'd do great. It would make our night," he pleads.

Looking at each lad, I see that pleading puppy-dog look on all of them. I grin, roll my eyes in submission, and get up. I think the alcohol is catching up with me!

A staff member guides me from our table to the next stage, and I wait my turn. It must be nearing the end of the session when I finally climb onto the stage and get announced for voting purposes.

Within minutes, I'm down to just my thong; it seems to be the thing to do as everyone else has quickly disrobed and cavorted about as I am now doing, and with my back to the pole, gripping it overhead and sliding it between my bum cheeks as I rise up and down it, smiling suggestively at two guys sitting closest to me. I'm making them the centre of my attention, ignoring the rest of the audience. Still staring at the two guys, I bring my hands down while still leaning against the pole and slowly caress my naked body. Boobs, tummy, hips, and my firm little mound that is the only mystery left, hidden behind a tiny piece of silky cloth. I run a finger along my slit, gently pushing the fabric into it.

The guys wave notes in the air, and I approach them, still smiling seductively and wantonly at them, bob down and wiggle my hips as they slip the notes into the waistband of my thong. I stand back up and turn to the pole; the notes and my thong flutter to the floor. The guys have pulled it down, leaving me naked! I do the first thing that comes to mind and step up to the pole, entwine my legs around it, and grip it with my lips before sliding up and down it in a lewd manner, hiding my most wanted bit.

The lights go out over the stage, and the staff quickly lead me backstage. They hand me my clothes, all except my thong. I quickly dress as the staff explain that I've been disqualified for full nudity and that they could lose their license if they did not react swiftly. They accept that it wasn't my fault, but they're unhappy with how I covered myself up! So they order me to leave the club to avoid any trouble.

The staff takes me back to our table, where I must apologise to the lads for cutting the evening short. However, it seems someone is already informing them, as two men are chatting to John and Jake. The only sober ones amongst us; someone has to drive!

Walking to the car, six drunken fools and one tipsy tart, me, are being shepherded along by John and Jake. The fools are having fun, flipping the tart's skirt up and flashing her bare bum to passing cars. Not that the tart seems to mind much, wiggling her bum at the honking cars as they pass. The number of fools seems to be increasing, too.

When I reach the car park, I slip through the half-closed doors and run to the stairs, leaving the fools comfortably behind as they all try to get past the door together. I bend over and flash my bum at them before running up the stairs. We're on the second floor, and I'm leaning on the car when the fools finally tumble through the swing doors. There are more than eight of them now, or I’ve had more to drink than I thought! Before I have time to process that thought, they are surrounding me and rolling me along the car, pushing me over the front wing. My brain is having trouble keeping up with what is happening, and the next thing I feel is my feet being kicked apart and something hard poking between my legs.

A cock then slips inside my slippery hole once it finds the entrance.

“Oh, yes,” slips from my lips.

The cock slides in and out, along my silken walls, in a surprisingly controlled manner until it unexpectedly and copiously unloads a warm torrent of male fluid inside me. Lovely!

As it slips from my greedy maw, I hear myself say, “More.”

The next cock is more vigorous and quickly adds to the sticky contents of my wanton sex.

Then I am slid to the front of the bonnet and turned over, tits up, skirt and top removed, arms outstretched and legs spread. A fleshy weight bears down on my stomach as another cock enters my body. I open my eyes and see a stranger leering down at me. One of the extra fools, then! Not to worry, his cock is in me now!

I close my eyes and let my body enjoy itself as cock after cock invades it. Hot, sticky cum flows from my overfilled hole or gets shot over my stomach and tits as my lovers prefer. I’m in heaven!

Someone grips hold of my hips and lifts me from the bonnet, causing my body to flop downward. My head is only inches off the ground as I get slid over a giant cock, stretching my already loose hole. It feels so good as I get pumped over this weapon.

Holding me firmly, my lover pumps my body back and forth over his cock. The squelching and splashing of compressed cum being mashed between our bodies is glorious. My body is flopping about like a rag doll as this giant of a man makes full use of me. His sudden, explosive ejaculation threatens to force cum out of my mouth! I have never felt cum hitting the back of my vagina like it before.

Flipping me up, he catches me under my arms and carries me a few steps before spinning me around and kneeling me into the back of a vehicle. My head is pushed down, and a cock enters me from behind, continuing the assault on my senses. Every cock that enters my body teases, torments, and ultimately pleasures me; every ounce of pleasure that runs through my body, and of course, every ounce of warm, sticky man juice that enters or covers me, I want. The men get their five minutes of glory, but I get so much more!

Two more cocks use me before I get led back to our car and we make for home. Minutes later, we arrive back at the cottage. It felt like minutes as I fell asleep before we left the car park.

Blearily, I realise where we are and shuffle my way indoors, stark naked, with some assistance from John and Jake—shaking myself awake and making my way to the patio.

“I’m going to soak in the tub for a while,” I say to no one in particular, but first I need to go to the loo.

I wake with a start, realising I wasn't dreaming; I do need to use the bathroom! I slide off the bed and nearly fall because my legs won't cooperate. Eventually, I stagger into the en-suite and relieve myself. I look down at my smelly and cum-encrusted body, recalling what happened last night, some of it anyway, before stepping into the shower.

After I finish in the en-suite, I slip on my black satin dressing gown, walk downstairs, and find several lads draped over various bits of furniture, still asleep. Noise in the kitchen suggests some life is about.

John and Jake, the non-drinkers from last night, are sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee.

"Afternoon, Sharon. I'll make you some coffee," John says.

I sit with them and drink my coffee. Sipping it eagerly, I need the caffeine injection!

"You've tidied up, I see," I eventually say.

"We thought we'd better do. Nobody else is in any fit state," Jake laughs.

"Me included," I half-groan. "I feel rough. What exactly happened last night? I remember walking back to the car park from the club, and other men were there. But not what went on. And the last thing I remember was getting into the hot tub. How did I end up in bed?" I finish.

John knows that I like to know everything and tells me what happened.

"It all started in the club. One girl and eight men drew attention even in a place like that, and we had several inquiries about what you were up to even before your performance on stage. After that, it was difficult to say no. We would have been followed anyway, so it was better to have things arranged. I didn't think you would object," he grinned before continuing. "And I was right if your language was to be believed. I didn't think you knew so many swear words!"

"Really!?" I look at him incredulously.

"Really," confirms Jake. "You encouraged everyone to, ummm, fuck you, and in several different ways, too."

"How many men were there?" I ask nervously.

"Initially, just six from the club and us, of course. But as time went on, probably another five or six chaps turned up. Including that big chap who lifted you onto his cock," John affirms. "Once we got back here, you did indeed get into the hot tub after going to the loo, where you promptly fell asleep again," he continues. "We couldn't wake you, so we had to carry you to bed; Jake carried you while I opened the doors," John explains.

"Thank you. That doesn't explain why my pussy was caked in cum when I woke up, though. I know I washed before getting in the tub."

They look nervously at each other and grin.

"You did. It's just that I was pretty knackered when I got you into your room and dropped you onto the bed," Jake explains.

John continues. "You landed on your back with your legs apart, with your pussy smiling nicely at us. The fall woke you up, and you smiled at us and told us to fuck you again, quite colourfully. So we did. Then you fell asleep again. We covered you up and left."

I drink my coffee and mull over last night's antics, do a little mental maths and come up with 24 for Friday and 32 for Saturday. Umm, lovely, I've been fucked 56 times over two days; a very satisfied grin comes over my face! How many more times can I arrange to meet the lads before Rob and John graduate and I am left high and dry again!?