Chapter 2: First Blowbang & Piss Introduction

Emma’s bare feet padded across the warm rug, the last echoes of the poker game still ringing in her ears. The fireplace crackled softly behind her, but all she felt was the cool night air kissing her newly naked skin. Fourteen pairs of eyes locked on her body, and her chest tightened with a dizzying mix of dread and raw thrill. The living room circle had tightened into a perfect ring of men, every one of them already stripped from the waist down. Fourteen cocks stood hard and waiting, thick and heavy in the firelight.

The contrast hit her like a slap. Nine of the Black cocks—Jamal’s veiny monster leading the way, Tyrone’s girthy length beside it, Leon’s upward curve, Darius’s long smooth shaft, Kendrick’s heavy balls swinging low, Malik’s dark and intimidating girth, Andre’s ridged head, Xavier’s pulsing thickness, Marcus’s broad base—dwarfed the five White ones. Derek’s respectable but slimmer rod, Ryan’s pale and straight, Brad’s shorter but thick, Chris’s neatly trimmed, Scott’s eager and average. They looked so much bigger than anything she’d known. Her mind flashed involuntarily to Mark’s smaller, quicker thing—safe, familiar, never this intimidating—and heat bloomed low in her belly despite the shame.

She dropped to her knees in the center, the rug rough against her skin. The circle closed in. Jamal stepped forward first, his massive Black cock brushing her cheek. “Start with two, Emma. One Black, one White. Show us how you handle the team.”

Derek moved to her other side. She opened her mouth, taking Jamal’s thick head between her lips while her hand wrapped around Derek’s shaft. The taste exploded on her tongue—Jamal’s deep, musky salt from the long hike, skin still warm and slightly sweaty, pre-cum already leaking bitter-sweet. Derek tasted lighter, a faint trace of the beer he’d been drinking mixed with clean skin. She bobbed between them, jaw stretching wide, saliva already dripping down her chin.

The rotation began. Every sixty to ninety seconds they switched. Tyrone next—his cock thicker at the base, veins pulsing against her tongue, a sharper tang of masculine sweat. Leon’s curved upward, hitting the roof of her mouth with every thrust. Darius slid in smooth and long, almost reaching her throat. She sucked harder, cheeks hollowing, while hands from the circle stroked her hair, her shoulders, her breasts.