Della had finally had enough. She no longer lived but merely existed. In her late forties she was far from past her sell by date but she couldn't help suppress the panic and despair she felt at the thought that this was it, this is as good as life got. She’d married young, to a then handsome man called Peter and for a while they’d been happy together, the epitome of Love Young’s Dream. Years passed, they had children; the children grew up and moved away and with their departure went the love and desire from their relationship. It seemed as if over night her husband had lost all virility, turning into an old man before her eyes. She was no spring chicken herself but she had always made the effort, tried to look good. But for what? Peter certainly wasn't interested anymore. They didn't even sleep in the same room these days let alone make love.
Sadly Della felt like she was withering away, she may as well have turned celibate… Yet there was another underlying fear and that was at the overwhelming urges that threatened to boil over and spill out from her. Dark urges, utterly debauched and dirty, ones that she could never share with Peter. So she went about her day to day drab existence, trying to block it all out until one day she caught sight of herself in the mirror and she knew it had to change.
The club was a seedy dive on the outskirts of the city, a place she hoped she would never bump into anyone she knew. Nerves churned her stomach making her want to heave but, taking a deep breath she walked purposefully from where her taxi had dropped her and towards the club’s entrance; a dark dank doorway. The stench of sweat and stale cigarette smoke hit her as she braved a dark corridor, hearing loud music up ahead. “Now or never.” She told herself. She was here to find men. Not just one man but a group if she was lucky. Standing rather conspicuously by the crumby bar, it wasn't long before a tall, heavy-set man approached her, moving to her like a predator, sniffing at her as he did so. Della flinched, not sure if out of fear or excitement, as his beer saturated breath slapped her in the face. Despite her disgust, she could not disguise the familiar pulse emanating from between her thighs. He wasted no time asking what it was she was looking for in such a club.
She told him in hushed tones and he looked at her for the briefest of moments before giving a nod and instructing her to go and wait outside at the back of the club. As he sloped off back into the shadows she turned swiftly on her heel, doing as she was told.
She found her way outside and gratefully stepped into the night air only to be met with another unpleasant odor of piss. Still she edged past upturned beer crates and debris and found a dark wet corner to wait in. The whole time she was battling with her urges and her conscience but before she had chance to back out she heard footsteps approaching her. Out of the shadows came dark figure after dark figure, at least eight men in all. They circled her, fencing her in like a caged animal. Without a word each man unzipped his flies and pulled out a cock, until she was confronted with a wall of dicks all of varying lengths and fatness. A few of them were slapped against her face, pushed into her hair and she could smell their unmistakable musky odours all around her.
“Don’t just look at them, suck them bitch.” Came the brusque order followed by another stinging slap across her cheek. Hesitantly she ventured forward, craning her neck but before she knew it a heavy hand grabbed her hair savagely, jerking her mouth onto one of the many cocks. The man began to fuck her face hard, forcing his member right into the back of her throat making her gag and heave on it. Strings of saliva oozed down his cock and he laughed mirthlessly as he fucked her some more. She was aware of the other men all around her, sensing their hands pumping on their cocks as they watched on. Again her head was pulled and another prick slammed into her face, thicker than the last. It felt like her lips were going to tear as the man crammed his entirety inside. The men were grunting and groaning as they watched and waited their turn to face- fuck her mercilessly.
Some of the cocks tasted vile, unwashed and unkempt making her want to throw up but the need to have them violate her was too strong and she went through them all, each time feeling her mouth and throat pounded roughly until she thought she would pass out.
“Yeah that’s it you whore, take it all.” groaned one man, “Deep throat me cunt.” Spat another. Della had no choice. The whole time she felt her pussy spilling endless amounts of creamy juice out and over her thighs. Her clit was beyond hard and pleaded for her to touch it. Her hair was wet with sweat and spit and pre-cum, makeup smeared all over her face.
Then the men eased off and stood in their circle Della on her knees in front of them on the hard stone floor. She couldn't clearly see their faces in the dark but she could see them wanking their cocks faster now, hear their breathing becoming thick and fast. She could hold back no longer and sank all her fingers deep inside her sopping wet cunt, crying out with pain and pleasure as she did so, fucking herself hard watching the men intently and waiting for their cum.
It wasn't long before one by one the men began to shoot great streams of hot cum all over her. Grunting above her they wanked and shook their spunk so it rained down soaking her hair, dribbling down her face and front, over her clothes. Feeling the copious jets of milky cum all over her was too much for Della and the force at which she orgasm-ed caused her to lose her balance and fall back. The men laughed at the stupid whore lying on the floor rolling around in filth and jizz before zipping themselves back up and without any further conversation they left her there returning to their beers.
Although totally defiled, Della was utterly sated. Picking herself shakily up from the dirty concrete she did what she could to compose herself and hurriedly left the sleazy hole.
She was grateful to catch a cab without having to wait at the curb, now self conscious at her bedraggled appearance. Finally she was home and letting herself in quietly she crept upstairs to shower before bed, leaving a snoring Peter sprawled out on the sofa...None the wiser.