Sarah had just finished loading the dishwasher when Raymond walked into the kitchen still in his work boots. Samuel followed right behind, tossing his keys on the counter with a loud clatter. It was Friday evening, the TV in the living room droned with some sports recap nobody was really watching, and the smell of leftover tacos lingered in the air.
“Long week, huh?” Raymond said, stepping up behind her and pressing his hips against her ass while she wiped the counter.
Sarah laughed under her breath. “You two are animals.”
Samuel smirked, already pulling his shirt over his head. “We’ve been talking about this all day.”
She didn’t protest when Raymond’s hands slid under her loose tank top, rough palms grazing her sides. Samuel moved in from the front, fingers hooking into the waistband of her leggings and tugging them down just enough to expose the tops of her thighs. No slow buildup tonight. They’d all been texting dirty shit since lunch.
Raymond yanked her leggings and panties to her knees in one rough pull. Sarah braced her hands on the counter edge, ass pushed out. Samuel dropped to one knee, spreading her open with both thumbs. “Fuck, already wet,” he muttered, then buried two fingers inside her without warning.
Sarah gasped, knees buckling slightly. Raymond chuckled against her ear, reaching around to pinch her nipple hard through the thin fabric. “That’s it. Let him open you up.”
Samuel pumped fast, curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made her thighs tremble almost instantly. Wet sounds filled the kitchen—obscene, unmistakable. Sarah bit her lip, trying not to moan too loud. The neighbor’s dog was outside barking again; last thing they needed was complaints.
“More,” she whispered.
Raymond didn’t wait. He shoved his jeans down, cock springing free—thick, heavy, already leaking. He rubbed the head along her slit while Samuel kept fingering her, stretching her wider. Then Raymond pushed in slow at first, letting her feel every inch, before slamming home.
“Fuck!” Sarah’s voice cracked.
Samuel stood up, unzipping, stroking himself while he watched. “Turn her around. I want her mouth.”
They manhandled her easily. Raymond pulled out, spun her, and bent her over the kitchen table. Dishes rattled. Sarah opened her mouth just as Samuel fed his cock past her lips. She gagged once, eyes watering, but took him deeper. Raymond lined up from behind again and thrust back in, hard enough that her whole body jolted forward onto Samuel’s dick.
They found a rhythm fast—Raymond pounding her pussy, Samuel fucking her throat. Sarah’s hands gripped the table edge, knuckles white. Her moans were muffled, sloppy, drool running down her chin.
“Goddamn, she’s tight tonight,” Raymond grunted, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a red handprint.
Samuel pulled out of her mouth, strings of spit connecting them. “On the floor. I wanna see her squirt.”
They dragged her to the living room carpet—still half-dressed, leggings tangled around one ankle. Sarah landed on her back, legs spread wide. Samuel knelt between them, three fingers now, pumping furiously while his thumb mashed her clit in tight circles. Raymond straddled her chest, cock slapping against her lips until she sucked him again.
The pressure built stupidly fast. Sarah’s hips bucked, thighs shaking. “Gonna—fuck—gonna—”
“Do it,” Samuel growled. “Come on, soak us.”
Her back arched off the carpet. A sharp cry tore out of her as the first gush sprayed across Samuel’s wrist and forearm. He didn’t stop—kept finger-fucking her through it, making her squirt again, harder. Clear fluid arced, splashing his chest, dripping onto the carpet. Her whole body convulsed, eyes rolling back, mouth open in a silent scream.
Raymond groaned watching it. “Jesus Christ.”
They flipped her onto all fours. Samuel moved behind, sliding his cock in while she was still quivering. Raymond knelt in front, feeding her his dick again. Double-teamed like that, Sarah could barely breathe. Samuel gripped her hips, slamming deep, balls slapping her clit. Every thrust pushed another little squirt out of her—smaller now, but constant, dripping down her thighs.
“Such a good little toy,” Samuel muttered, voice rough.
Raymond pulled out of her mouth, jerked himself fast, and came across her face—thick ropes landing on her cheek, lips, chin. Sarah gasped, tongue darting out to taste it while Samuel kept pounding.
He didn’t last much longer. A few more brutal thrusts and he buried himself deep, groaning as he unloaded inside her. Sarah shuddered again, another weak squirt leaking around his cock as he pulled out.
They collapsed in a sweaty heap on the carpet. Sarah lay there panting, legs trembling, face and thighs sticky. The TV was still going—some car commercial now. The oven timer beeped faintly from the kitchen; she’d forgotten about the garlic bread.
Raymond laughed breathlessly. “We’re gonna have to clean that carpet.”
Samuel wiped his arm on his discarded shirt. “Worth it.”
Sarah just smiled, dazed, wiping cum off her cheek with the back of her hand. “Next time… maybe warn a girl so I put a towel down first.”
They all cracked up—raw, tired, satisfied laughter—while the game highlights played on in the background and the smell of burnt bread started drifting in. Just another Friday night.

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