Last Surrender: My All-Holes Gangbang at the Mountain Refuge

The refuge’s tiny salon reeks of pine and our earlier sweat. Post-dinner, we’re crammed on sagging couches, bodies buzzing from the week’s fucks. My phone vibrates in my pocket—Thomas’s text: ‘Miss that tight ass already.’ Heart hammers. No more teasing. I stand, cheeks burning brick-red. ‘Guys… Thomas, Antoine, Julien. Before we split tomorrow, fuck me. All three. Every hole. Now.’ Eyes widen. Silence cracks into grins. No time for bullshit chit-chat. Clothes hit the floor fast. Their cocks spring up, thick, veined, dripping pre-cum. I drop to knees, urgency clawing my gut. This is it—the raw hit after screens and hikes, no pretending.

Thomas grabs my hair first, shoves his fat cock down my throat. Gagging, drooling, I suck hard, tasting salt and musk. ‘That’s it, slut, open wide,’ he growls. Antoine and Julien stroke, watching. I pop off, gasp: ‘Ass and pussy next. Stretch me.’ Thomas sits, pulls me back onto his lap. His slick head nudges my asshole—cool spit, then burn as he sinks in. ‘Fuck, so tight,’ he groans. I grind down, impaled, asshole clenching. Julien kneels, rubs his cock along my dripping slit. ‘Ready for double, baby?’ ‘Ram it in!’ His girth splits my pussy lips, thin wall between them grinding cocks together. Full. Stuffed. Antoine straddles, feeds me his meat. Mouth, cunt, ass—sealed. They thrust wild, no rhythm at first, then sync. Slaps of skin, wet squelches, my muffled moans. Sweat drips, mixes with pussy juice trickling down thighs. ‘Pound my holes harder! Make me your cumdump!’ I scream around Antoine’s shaft. Glands drag insides, prostate-milking vibes hit everywhere. Orgasms build like avalanches—body quakes, no control.

The Approach

Julien pulls back slow, then slams deep with the others. Glands kiss through flesh. My clit throbs untouched, pleasure exploding from core. ‘I’m… cumming!’ Vision whites out, asshole spasms, pussy floods, mouth sucks vacuum. I black out, floating in bliss. They ease out gentle, lay me limp. Fingers wrap cocks—mine jerk Thomas and Antoine together, Julien in other hand. Glands kiss, slick. ‘Cum on me!’ Jets erupt: hot ropes lash face, tits, belly. Thick, bitter spurts I lap up greedy. Others watch, fingering to their own peaks—Mathilde screams first, Cécile and Laura grinding her to gush.

Sunset fades, chill hits. We collapse, panting, sticky. Bodies untangle slow. Whispers, kisses—no regrets. Clothes on, packs zipped for dawn trains. Reality creeps: jobs, stages, lives apart. But phones swap numbers buzz with promises. ‘Next year?’ Nods all around. I slip out last, legs jelly, ass sore, pussy aching full. Back to stranger mode—Anonyme again. Phone vibrates: Thomas. ‘Fucked forever.’ Smile. Until next click.