Warning: Explicit sexual content, male/male relationships, group sex, extremely rough sex, marathon session, BDSM elements. 18+ only. All characters are adults.
Damon took Mike's place in the chair, settling back with his thick, veiny fourteen-inch cock standing at attention.
"Different position this time," Damon said with a smile. "Turn around. Back to me. Reverse cowgirl."
Peter positioned himself with shaking legs....back to Damon, facing away from him. Damon guided Peter down onto his cock, and Peter moaned as those distinctive veins dragged against his oversensitive walls.
"All the way down," Damon instructed. "Good. Now lean forward slightly."
Peter did, his hands bracing on his own thighs.
"Give me your hands," Damon commanded. "Behind your back."
Peter complied, bringing his hands behind him, and Damon's large hands wrapped around his wrists....holding them, controlling them.
"This," Damon said, "is going to be intense."
He pulled.
Peter's hands were yanked backward, forcing his body into a deep arch, and suddenly Damon's cock was hitting entirely new angles. Peter cried out at the sensation.
"That's right," Damon growled, using his grip on Peter's wrists as leverage. He pulled Peter back forcefully while simultaneously thrusting up, creating a devastating rhythm that had Peter screaming.
"Oh fuck! Damon! That's.....it's too deep...."
"It's exactly deep enough," Damon corrected, pulling harder on Peter's wrists, forcing him into an even more pronounced arch.
The position was brutal. Peter couldn't control the pace, couldn't adjust the angle, couldn't do anything but take it. Damon was using Peter's own hands....his own body....as leverage to pound deeper than should be physically possible.
"You feel those veins?" Damon asked, never stopping his thrusts. "Feel every ridge of my cock dragging inside you?"
"Yes! Oh God, yes!"
"Good. Because I'm going to fuck you like this until you can't remember your own name."
He did exactly that.
Damon pounded into Peter for an hour....pulling on his wrists, forcing that arch, hitting depths that made Peter's vision white out. Peter came twice during that hour, untouched, just from the brutal stimulation of Damon's veiny cock destroying his prostate.
"Last one," Damon warned, his grip on Peter's wrists tightening almost painfully. "Going to fill that ass one more time."
He pulled Peter back hard, thrust up with all his strength, and came....hot spurts adding to the already obscene amount of cum inside Peter.
When Damon released his wrists, Peter slumped forward, barely conscious, completely wrecked.
"Jackson," Damon called. "Finish him off."
*****
"On the bed," Jackson ordered. "Hands and knees. Ass up."
Peter crawled onto the bed with the last of his strength, positioning himself as instructed. His hole was gaping, leaking cum, stretched beyond recognition after hours of brutal use.
Jackson stood behind him, his thirteen-and-a-half inches looking like a weapon.
"This is going to be the most brutal fucking of your life," Jackson promised, positioning himself at Peter's entrance. "I'm not holding back. I'm not being gentle. I'm going to pound you so hard you'll think you're splitting in two. Understand?"
"Yes," Peter whispered.
"Use your safe word if you need it. Because I'm going to wreck you."
Jackson pushed inside in one brutal thrust, and Peter screamed.....the sound raw and primal.
Then Jackson started to fuck.
It was animalistic. Savage. Inhuman.
Jackson pounded into Peter with such force that Peter's entire body moved forward on the bed with each thrust. The sound was obscene—wet, slapping, the headboard slamming against the wall so hard it left marks in the plaster.
"Oh God! Jackson! I'm going to split! I can't....."
"Yes you can," Jackson snarled, his hands gripping Peter's hips hard enough to leave bruises. "You can take it. You are taking it. Look at you, taking my cock like you were made for it."
Peter was crying, sobbing, screaming...pushed so far past his limits that he didn't know where pain ended and pleasure began. His cock was hard again despite multiple orgasms, swinging between his legs with each brutal impact.
"This is what you wanted," Jackson continued, somehow increasing his already brutal pace. "This is what you applied for. Twenty-four hours of being used. Of being fucked. Of being nothing but holes for our cocks."
"Yes!" Peter sobbed. "Yes! Use me! Fuck me! Wreck me!"
"Oh, we will. We're only six hours in, baby. Eighteen more to go."
The reminder made Peter's hole clench around Jackson's cock, and Jackson groaned.
"You like that? Like knowing we're going to keep using you? Going to fuck you until you can't walk? Until you can't sit? Until the only thing you remember is our cocks inside you?"
"Yes! God, yes!"
Jackson reached around and gripped Peter's cock, stroking it in time with his brutal thrusts. The combination was too much.....Peter came with a scream that probably echoed through the entire building, his ass clenching impossibly tight around Jackson's shaft.
"Fuck!" Jackson shouted, his own control breaking. He slammed deep and came, adding his load to his brothers'.
When he pulled out, Peter collapsed completely.....face down on the bed, unable to move, cum pouring from his wrecked hole, his body covered in sweat and various fluids.
He felt hands.....gentle now.....rolling him onto his back, cleaning him with warm towels, offering water.
"You did so well," Mike said softly, brushing hair from Peter's face. "So fucking well. But we need you to rest now. Sleep for a few hours. Because when you wake up....."
"We're going to fill all your holes at once," Damon finished with a wicked smile. "All three of us. At the same time."
Peter's exhausted cock twitched at the words.
"Sleep, baby," Jackson said, covering him with a soft blanket. "You're going to need your strength."
As Peter drifted off, thoroughly used and completely satisfied, his last conscious thought was that he'd earned every single dollar of that ten thousand.
And the night wasn't even half over.