I kept checking my phone, then the window, then my reflection in the mirror—nervous energy I couldn t shake. The white stockings I d chosen felt too revealing now, my skin already flushed before they even arrived. When I finally heard the soft knock, I didn t move at first. Just let them wait, my heart hammering against my ribs, until I unlocked the door and walked back to the bed without looking at them.
They entered quiet, two shadows, smelling of smoke and street air. No words, just the immediate press of bodies, four hands on me, mouths on my throat and inner thigh. I gasped when fingers pushed under my white top, rough and urgent, finding how wet I was. Embarrassingly so. They knew.
I ended up on my stomach first, face pressed into the pillow, ass up while one slammed into me from behind. The other moved around, presented himself to my mouth, and I took him because I wanted to be full everywhere. They used me like that, passing me back and forth, my white stockings still on,