Latest sex stories about What are friends for | added for who looking to read new experience about narrative What are friends for | story.
Read from here : 👉 #Blackmail #Teen #Threesome3 days ago8.1k words | | 3.50 | 👁️ Pizza_guy
Darren, his best friend Kenny and Amilia have a 3some
Amelia’s Doc Martens left tread marks in the Cheeto dust as she marched down the hallway—neon braid swinging like a pendulum of doom—toward Kenny’s bedroom. The doorframe still bore the dent from last summer’s ill-advised wrestling match involving a stolen traffic cone and two cans of Red Bull.
Kenny hip-checked Darren into the wall, panties dangling from his teeth like a fucked-up pirate flag. “Do you want front door or back door?” he mumbled around black lace, jerking his chin toward Amelia’s Docs stomping down the hallway.
Darren’s brain short-circuited—half-terror, half-horny “What? No—dude—*which* door—”
Kenny spat the panties into his palm like a baseball player ejecting sunflower seeds. “Front door”—he shoved the lace into Darren’s chest—”means you get the pussy.” The jellyfish screensaver pulsed neon over his shit-eating grin. “Back door means you get the ass,” His thumb jabbed toward the hallway where Amelia’s Docs squeaked against linoleum. “Clock’s ticking, Capri Sun.”
Darren’s dick twitched—equal parts terror and traitorous interest—as Kenny hip-checked him toward the hallway. The panties stuck to his sweaty palm like a used Band-Aid. Amelia’s voice drifted from Kenny’s bedroom, sharp as a cafeteria spork: “If either of you *dare* to—oh my *God*, Kenny, why is there a traffic cone in your—”
Kenny’s grin flashed neon under the jellyfish glow. “Dude Front door’s all warm and gooey like a fresh-baked cinnamon roll.” His tongue swiped over chapped lips. “Back door’s like… y’know. Breaking into a bank vault. Exciting*, but kinda illegal.”
Amelia’s voice ricocheted down the hall: “—*why* is there glitter in your sock drawer—oh my god…whos bra is this?!?”
Kenny hip-checked Darren again, sending him stumbling into the hallway wall. The black lace panties clung to his palm like a sweaty confession. The jellyfish glow pulsed pink over Kenny’s shit-eating grin as he mouthed *CHOOSE* and pointed at Amelia’s Docs—now sitting outside his bedroom door.
Amelia’s voice cut through the tension: “—and *why* is there a *single* purple sock taped to your ceiling fan—?”
Kenny hip-checked Darren again, sending him stumbling into the bedroom. The scent of stale laundry and cherry ChapStick hit like a truck—same as always—but now with Amelia perched on the edge of Kenny’s disaster-bed, neon braid swinging over the “Property of Amelia” phone case clutched in her lap.
The traffic cone Kenny had stolen last summer wobbled on the nightstand. A single purple sock taped to the ceiling fan spun lazy circles above Amelia’s left foot tapping Morse code for *hurry the fuck up*. Kenny’s grin stretched wide as he hip-checked Darren again—this time toward Amelia—before flopping onto the bed beside her.
Amelia’s neon braid swung like a pendulum of doom. “You’re *both* disgusting,” she muttered—but didn’t stop Kenny’s fingers from hooking under the waistband of her leggings. Darren’s sweatpants hit the floor with a *fwump*—still inside out.
Kenny’s tongue darted out to lick onion dust off his teeth. “Dude. *Dude*.” His fingers tangled in Amelia’s neon braid as Darren’s backwards sweats pooled around his ankles—crusty with dried cum and Kenny’s spit. The bedroom light flickered like a dying firefly, casting shadows over the three of them—Amelia’s legging wrapped around her ankles, Kenny’s knees digging into the mattress, Darren’s dick twitching in the stale air thick with peach schnapps and teenage desperation. Kenny’s grin flashing under the bedroom light.
They began to strip like molting birds—awkward, urgent, feathers of fabric flying in all directions. Amelia’s leggings peeled off with the sound of Velcro giving up on life, Kenny’s shirt got tangled around his head like a failed magic trick, and Darren’s backwards sweatpants finally surrendered to gravity with a wet *plop* against the floorboards. The ceiling fan’s lone purple sock spun lazy circles above their disarray, casting dick-shaped shadows over Kenny’s disaster-bed.
Amelia’s neon braid snagged on Kenny’s nipple ring—*”Fuck! That’s *not* a pull-tab, Ameebs!”*—as Darren tripped over his own abandoned sweats. The bedroom light flickered like a strobe at a meth-head rave, freezing them mid-disaster: Kenny shirtless with panties dangling from his teeth, Amelia’s leggings tangled around one ankle like a crime scene outline, Darren’s dick bobbing to the rhythm of the ceiling fan’s squeak.
Kenny spat the lace into his palm and pointed at Amelia’s plaid skirt. *”Leave it on,”* he demanded, thumb rubbing circles over the panties’ damp crotch. *”Makes you look like a hot, slutty school.”*
Amelia kicked him square in the kneecap. *”You wish, pervert,”* she hissed, but her fingers stayed tangled in Kenny’s hair—half shove, half tug. The ceiling fan’s lone sock spun faster, casting dick-shaped shadows over Kenny’s grin as he pulled his pants and boxers down.
Darren’s brain short-circuited at the sight of Kenny’s ass—pale as spoiled milk under the flickering bedroom light—as he bent over to pick up Amelia’s discarded panties with his teeth. The panties dangled from his mouth like a fucked-up dog toy, black lace catching the glow of the traffic cone’s reflective stripes. Kenny’s eight inch cock swung between his thighs—half-hard and smug—bouncing to the rhythm of the ceiling fan’s squeak. It was *unfair*, really. Thick as a Red Bull can and just as likely to give you heart palpitations, curving slightly to the left like it couldn’t be bothered to stand at attention for *anyone*.
Amelia shoved Kenny onto the bed, before straddling him with the grace of a pissed-off gymnast. “Suck my tits, bitch,” she commanded, hiking up her shirt to reveal her beautiful tits.
Amelia’s tits were perfect—soft but firm, the kind of tits that haunted teenage boys’ dreams and left grown men fumbling with their wallets. The right one had a tiny freckle just above the nipple, like a punctuation mark on an already flawless sentence. They bounced slightly as she moved, taunting Kenny with their proximity.
The nipples themselves were pierced with thin silver bars that caught the flickering bedroom light, glinting like tiny hyphens between lust and perfection. Kenny’s tongue darted out instinctively—dry lips suddenly wet with anticipation—as Amelia grabbed his hair and yanked him forward. The metal was cool against his tongue, the taste of antiseptic and peach body spray lingering from when she’d cleaned them last. Darren, still tangled in his own sweatpants, watched Kenny’s mouth envelop one pierced peak with the reverence of a starving man at a buffet.
Then Darren lunged, attaching himself to her other nipple with the desperation of a drowning man clutching driftwood. His teeth scraped metal—*”Ow, fuck, Darren, that’s not a *chew toy*—”*—but he didn’t care, not with Kenny’s smug grin flashing in his peripheral vision. Amelia’s back arched off the bed, neon braid whipping like a live wire as Kenny’s fingers dug into her thigh.
Kenny’s tongue swirled around the silver bar like he was solving a calculus problem with his mouth, humming around the pierced flesh. Darren could *feel* the vibration through Amelia’s body—her thighs clamping around Kenny’s hips. the *slurp-gasp-choke* symphony of their mouths working her tits like twin pumps trying to drain a dairy farm.
Amelia’s fingers twisted in Kenny’s hair hard enough to scalp a lesser man. “*Fuck*—you’re both so *bad* at this,” she gasped, but her hips rolled against Kenny’s lap anyway, plaid skirt riding up to reveal her shaven cunt. Darren’s tongue swirled around her left nipple like a drunk trying to lick the last drop of beer from the bottle, while Kenny’s teeth scraped metal with the precision of a mechanic stripping wires, wet, sucking sounds filling Kenny’s disaster-bedroom.
Darren’s fingers—sticky with Funyun dust and Kenny’s spit—finally found her pussy. His middle finger slid through her folds with all the grace of a kid fumbling with his first padlock. “*Ohhhh fuck,*” Amelia moaned, her thighs clamping around Kenny’s waist like a bear trap. Kenny grinned against her tit, tongue flicking the silver bar in a taunting *see-I-told-you-so* rhythm as Darren’s finger pushed inside her.
Amelia’s cunt was hotter than Kenny’s stolen Red Bull stash, slicker than the time they’d spilled lube on Kenny’s mom’s treadmill. Darren’s finger hooked upward—*”Jesus Christ, Darren, are you trying to *fishhook* me—?”*—before he finally found that spongy spot Kenny had smugly described as *”the clit, dumbass.”* Amelia’s neon braid whipped against Kenny’s cheek as she arched off the bed, her *”Fuuuuuck—”* dissolving into a hiss when Kenny bit her nipple just hard enough to leave marks.
Kenny grinned around her tit, tongue flicking the silver bar like it was a fucking joystick. Amelia’s juices started leaking onto his thighs. “Dude,” he mumbled against her skin, breath hot and onion-dust stale. “She’s *so* wet. Like a *Capri Sun* someone sat on.” Darren’s fingers slid deeper, knuckles pressing against her clit with all the finesse of a kid mashing elevator buttons.
“*Fuck*—both of you—*shut up*—” Her neon braid lashed Kenny’s cheek like a whip. Amelia’s legs locked around Darren’s wrist, trapping his fingers inside her with a wet *squelch* as Kenny’s teeth grazed her nipple..
The bedroom smelled like peach schnapps and stale Funyuns—the scent of teenage depravity. Amelia’s thighs squeezed around Darren’s wrist—her cunt pulsing around his fingers with rhythmic clenches that sounded like rain-soaked grass when you walked on it—wet, squelching, unmistakable. Kenny grinned against her nipple, tongue flicking her piercing—the silver bar clicking against his teeth.
“Dude,” Kenny mumbled, pulling back just enough to smirk—his lips glossy with Amelia’s spit and his own stupidity. “She’s *so* close.” His hand slid down Amelia’s stomach—over the freckle just below her belly button that Darren had always wanted to lick—before slipping between her thighs. His fingers bumped against Darren’s knuckles—already buried inside her—and Amelia *jolted*, her bare feet kicking against the mattress.
Kenny’s fingers curled inside her first—calloused knuckles dragging along her front wall—while Darren’s thumb pressed her clit in frantic circles like he was trying to unlock a phone with a shattered screen. Kenny’s tongue darting out to flick her nipple piercing in time with the *squelch-squelch-squelch* of four fingers pistoning in and out of her cunt.
“F-fuck—*fuck*—” Amelia screamed as her hips bucked off the bed. Darren’s fingers hooked upward—*“Jesus Christ, dude, are you trying to *fishhook* her pancreas—?”*—before Kenny slapped his wrist away and took over, middle and ring finger scissoring inside her like he was digging for the last Pringle at the bottom of the can.
Amelia’s thighs clamping around Kenny’s forearm so tight his fingers turned purple. *“She’s ready,”* Kenny announced, grinning like a jackal with a mouthful of stolen birthday cake. His free hand yanked Darren closer by the waistband of his ruined sweatpants—*“Dude. *Dude*. Front door’s *open*.”*
Darren’s knees hit the mattress—still damp from Kenny’s earlier exploits—as Amelia’s neon braid whipped across his cheek like a lash. Her fingers tangled in his hair, nails scraping his scalp as she *pulled*, dragging his face toward her dripping cunt with the urgency of a woman who’d spent *far* too long waiting for idiots to figure shit out. The scent hit him first—peach body spray and something muskier, something *hungry*—before her thighs bracketed his ears, cutting off all sound except the wet *schlick* of Kenny’s fingers still pistoning inside her.
“*Lick,* dipshit,” Amelia hissed, grinding against Darren’s nose hard enough to bruise. Her thighs trembled, clamping around Darren’s head like a vise as his tongue swiped through the mess Kenny had made, tracing her folds with the finesse of a kid finger-painting.
Kenny’s fingers withdrew with a wet *pop*, he repositioned himself on the bed. The blunt pressure of his cockhead nudging against Amelia’s rear entrance. “Rear door’s open too, Capri Sun,” he taunted, rolling his hips slow—just enough to make Amelia’s breath hitch.
Amelia’s nails clawed at the bedsheets, her neon braid thrashing like a dying eel. “*Fuck*—no—not without—” The protest died halfway up her throat as Kenny’s spit-slicked thumb circled her tight rim, pressing in just enough to make her spine bow. Darren watched, mesmerized, as Kenny’s cockhead glistened under the flickering bedroom light, catching streaks of Amelia’s slick along the way.
Darren’s dick twitched against his stomach, smearing pre-cum in sticky stripes. The head of Kenny’s cock bumped against her puckered entrance, teasing the rim with lazy circles. Amelia’s gasp was half-snarl, half-plea—*”God, just *fucking*—”*
Kenny chuckled, his breath hot against Amelia’s shoulder. “Dude,” he murmured, hips rolling slow, grinding the thick crown of his cock against her asshole. “So tight,” His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her back onto him—just enough for the tip to breach, stretching her tight ring with agonizing slowness. Amelia’s fingers clawed at the sheets, her neon braid thrashing like a dying eel. *”Fuck—fuck—”*
Darren watched, mesmerized, as Kenny’s cock—thick as a Red Bull can and twice as cruel—pushed deeper, inch by inch, Amelia’s body yielding in shuddering increments. Kenny’s fingers traced the stretched rim of her asshole, his thumb circling the stretched skin where his cock disappeared inside her. “Dude,” Kenny groaned, voice ragged. “She’s *so* tight.” His hips jerked forward, burying another inch, and Amelia’s scream dissolved into a broken gasp, her thighs trembling against Darren’s shoulders.
Amelia’s neon braid lashed the mattress like a whipcord as Kenny bottomed out, her breath hitching in sharp, staccato bursts. The smell of sweat and sex and peach body spray thickened the air, mingling with the faint musk of Kenny’s Funyun breath as he leaned over her. “Are you watching this Capri Sun?” Kenny taunted, rolling his hips in slow, deliberate circles—the kind that made Amelia’s toes curl against Darren’s back.
Darren had a ringside seat—his face mere inches from the obscene junction where Kenny’s cock disappeared into her ass, slick with spit and precum and the sheer, dumb audacity of their situation. Every twitch of Kenny’s thighs, every flex of Amelia’s trembling stomach muscles, was magnified in grotesque detail. The stretched rim of her asshole clung to Kenny’s shaft like a too-tight rubber band, the skin flushed an angry pink under the flickering bedroom light.
Amelia’s screams could be heard three doors down the hall of the appartment. Kenny pistoned into her with the rhythm of a washing machine stuck on spin cycle. Darren could *see* the exact moment Kenny bottomed out—the way Amelia’s toes curled against his back, the choked-off gasp that sounded more like a sob than pleasure. Kenny’s smirk was a flash of white in the dimness, his teeth glinting like a predator’s. “Dude,” he panted, hips stuttering, “she’s so warm, so tight.” His fingers dug into Amelia’s hips, pulling her back onto him with a wet *slap* that echoed off the traffic-cone-dented walls.
Darren’s dick ached—a dull, throbbing pulse that matched the *squelch-squelch-squelch* of Kenny’s thrusts. He slid up the bed, his chest dragging through the mess of spit and precum smeared across Amelia’s stomach.
His cock bumped her pussy lips—like a drunk fumbling for a keyhole.
Her pussy was soaked from Kenny’s fingers working their magic. Darren hesitated, the head of his dick catching on her clit, making Amelia jolt like she’d been zapped. Kenny, buried to the hilt in her ass, grinned over her shoulder—his teeth flashing in the strobe-light flicker of the bedroom bulb. “Dude,” he panted, onion breath hot on Amelia’s neck. “Quit *teasing* and *bone* her already.”
The head bumped against her pussy lips, before Darren’s hips jerked forward in a spasm of teenage desperation. Amelia’s cunt swallowed him whole with a wet *schlurp* that drowned out Kenny’s onion-dusted cackle.
“Fuck, dude,” Kenny wheezed, his thrusts into Amelia’s ass kicking the mattress springs into a squeaky protest. “She’s like a *fleshlight* that *yells* at you.” His fingers dug into Amelia’s hips—leaving crescent moon indents in her skin—as Darren bottomed out with a grunt.
Amelia’s neon braid lashed between their bodies like a live wire, her voice splintering into jagged syllables—*”Too—*full*—you *fucking*—”*—before Kenny’s hands reached around and grabbed her tits, his fingers and thumbs pinching both nipples. The sensations punched a gasp from her lungs, her cunt clenching around Darren’s cock in rhythmic pulses that felt like trying to hold a jellyfish in his fist. Kenny’s laughter vibrated against her spine—wet and unhinged—as he pistoned into her ass with the precision of a jackhammer operator who’d snorted his paycheck.
The traffic-cone light cast elongated shadows—three bodies fused into one grotesque hydra of sweat and desperation. Darren’s hips stuttered, his cock buried to the hilt in Amelia’s pussy while Kenny’s thicker shaft stretched her asshole obscenely. Every thrust from Kenny shoved Amelia forward onto Darren’s lap, her inner walls fluttering around him like a dying moth’s wings. *”Fuck—*fuck*—”* Amelia chanted, her voice cracking on the vowels as Kenny’s teeth scraped her shoulder blade.
Kenny’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of Amelia’s tits, his thrusts turning erratic. “Dude,” he panted, onion breath hot against her neck, “she’s *clenching* like a fucking *vice*—” The words dissolved into a grunt as Amelia’s neon braid whipped across his face, her body convulsing between them. Darren could *feel* Kenny’s cock pulsing inside her ass—a grotesque echo of his own dick twitching in her cunt—their rhythms syncing like deranged metronomes.
The moment crystallized in the strobe-light flicker: Kenny’s teeth bared, Darren’s hips stuttering, Amelia’s scream shredding into a wet gasp. Kenny came first—his orgasm punching through him with a sound like a garbage disposal choking on a sock—his cum flooding her ass in hot, sticky spurts. The sensation rippled through Amelia’s body, her pussy clamping down on Darren’s cock *hard*, milking his orgasm out with a force that left his vision whiting out. He spilled his boy cream into her with a choked groan, his hips jerking like a marionette with its strings cut.
Kenny’s laughter was a wheezing, breathless thing—half-hysterical, half-reverent—as he collapsed onto Amelia’s back, his softening cock still wedged inside her. “*Dude*,” he gasped, nuzzling her sweat-slicked neck. “We *double-stuffed* you like a fucking *Oreo*.” Amelia’s response was to elbow him in the ribs, her neon braid whipping across his face like a pissed-off cat’s tail.
Kenny rolled off her with all the grace of a drunk starfish, landing face-first in the Funyun-strewn bedsheets. Her stretched asshole gave a wet *pop* as his cock slipped free, leaving Amelia gasping like a fish tossed onto a dock. “Holy *shit*,” Kenny mumbled into the mattress, his voice muffled by crushed onion dust. “Dude. My *dick* feels like it just ran a marathon backwards.”
Amelia groaned, Kenny’s cum dribbled out of her ass in slow, lazy rivulets sticky and warm—some of it pooling on the mattress, some smearing across Darren’s thigh as he lay underneath her. The smell hit them all at once: peach body spray, Funyuns, and sex.
“You’re *leaking*,” Kenny wheezed, flipping onto his back and grinning at the ceiling. His hand flopped lazily toward Amelia’s ass, fingers swiping through the mess before holding them up to the flickering traffic-cone light. “Like a fucking *glazed donut*.”
Amelia’s thighs trembled as she peeled herself off Darren’s lap, his cum already painting slick trails down her inner thighs. She hissed—half from the sting of overstretched muscles, half from the humiliation of Kenny’s snickering—as a thick dollop plopped onto Darren’s stomach. “Gross,” she muttered, but her fingers lingered where she’d wiped, pressing back inside herself with a shuddering breath.
Kenny rolled onto his side, grinning at the mess with the pride of a dog who’d chewed through the couch. “Dude,” he wheezed, flicking a Funyun crumb off Amelia’s ass cheek. “You’re like a *squishmallow* full of jizz.”
She punched him in the gut. Not hard—just enough to make Kenny wheeze like a deflating whoopee cushion. His laughter dissolved into a wet cough as Amelia’s neon braid slapped his cheek. “Shut the *fuck* up, Kenny.” But her thighs were still trembling, her fingers still pressed between them where Darren’s cum dribbled down her inner thigh in slow, sticky trails.
The traffic-cone lamp buzzed overhead, casting their sweat-slicked bodies in radioactive orange. Kenny flopped onto his back, limbs splayed like a starfish on a meth binge. “Dude,” he gasped, wiping his forehead with a discarded Funyun bag. “I think my soul just left my body through my dick.”
Amelia kicked his thigh— “You *wish* you had a soul,” she muttered, but her fingers were still tracing lazy circles where Darren’s cum pooled in her belly button. The traffic-cone light flickered, casting Kenny’s cum-streaked smirk in hellish orange as he rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin on her hipbone.
“Whos ready for round two?” Kenny’s grin was all teeth, his breath reeking of Funyuns and scnaps. His fingers dipped into the mess on her stomach, then used it to carve his initials down her thigh. “C’mon, Ame. Bet I can make you squirt like a *drink box* this time.”
Amelia’s legs trembled—still spread, still wet—but she managed to flip Kenny off with her middle finger. “Like hell,” she gasped, her neon braid tangled in Darren’s fingers. But Kenny was already shoving his half-hard cock toward her mouth, the swollen head bumping her lips with the urgency of a guy who’d never heard “no.”
“Come on baby, gimme some lickins,” Kenny muttered, his fingers digging into her scalp. She opened her mouth. His dick tasted like sweat and Funyuns, the salt of his desperation thick on her tongue. Amelia gagged—but Kenny didn’t give a fuck, thrusting deep enough to make her throat bulge. Her muffled *”Fuck you—”* turned into a wet gurgle as Darren lined up behind her, his fingers slick with leftover cum and spit, spreading her asscheeks wide.
The head of Darren’s cock pressed against her tight rim—still loose from Kenny’s brutal fucking—but still tight enough that the stretch still burned. Amelia’s scream was swallowed whole by Kenny’s thrusts, her fingers clawing at his thighs as Darren bottomed out with a groan. *”Jesus—she’s still so fucking tight—”* Darren gasped, his hips stuttering against her ass. Kenny just grinned, his fingers twisting in her neon braid like reins. “Less talkin’, more *fuckin’,* dumbass,” he wheezed, pulling her head forward onto his cock with a wet *schlorp.*
Amelia’s throat convulsed around Kenny’s shaft, her gag reflex long since beaten into submission by his relentless pace. Her pussy dripped onto the sheets beneath her, a messy puddle of pussy juice and cum that smelled like peach body spray and teenage hormones. Kenny’s balls slapped her chin with every thrust, his breath reeking of stale Funyuns as he leaned over her. “Dude,” he panted, his free hand raise In a high five.
Darren gave him a quick high five. His hands returning to her ass, his fingers dug into Amelia’s flesh, the soft meat yielding under his grip as he pushed deeper into her asshole. The stretch was brutal—her rim still loose from their earlier fucking, but tight enough to make her whimper around Kenny’s dick. Her thighs trembled, her toes curling against the sheets as he bottomed out with a groan. *”Fuck—she’s still so tight—”* Darren gasped, his hips stuttering against her ass.
She’s *made* for this. Like a *fuckin’*—” His words dissolved into a grunt as Amelia bit down, her teeth scraping his shaft hard enough to make him yelp.
“Ooow-fuck bitch,” Kenny hissed through clenched teeth, jerking his hips back just enough that Amelia’s teeth scraped his cockhead—leaving tiny crescents in the swollen flesh. His hand fisted in her neon braid, yanking hard enough to make her spine arch. “You *bite*, I *fist* your hair, sweetheart. Fair fuckin’ trade?”
Amelia’s response was muffled around the thick intrusion, but the middle finger she jammed into Kenny’s thigh spoke volumes. Darren watched, mesmerized, as Kenny’s smirk returned—wider, wilder—before he shoved Amelia’s face back down onto his cock with a wet *thok* that sounded like a plunger unclogging a drain. Her throat bulged obscenely, tears welling at the corners of her eyes as Kenny’s balls pressed against her chin.
Without mercy, Kenny’s hips pistoned forward with the rhythm of a meth-fueled jackhammer, his grip on her braid turning her head into nothing but a fleshlight with a built-in neon handle. Amelia’s gagging sounds—wet, choked, rhythmic—were drowned out by the *thok-thok-thok* of his balls slapping her chin. Tears streaked her cheeks, mixing with spit and Kenny’s precum dripping from her swollen lips.
Darren watched from behind, mesmerized by the obscene way Amelia’s asshole stretched around his cock, her body jerked with every thrust. Her pussy dripped onto the bedsheets beneath her, a messy puddle of cum and peach-scented slick that smelled like teenage sex and Funyun dust. Kenny’s laughter was a wheezing, unhinged thing—half-groan, half-giggle—as he yanked her head back by the braid, exposing her throat bulging around his shaft.
“Fuckin’—*gah*—suck it*,” Kenny gasped, his hips stuttering as Amelia’s teeth scraped his cockhead again. His fingers twisted tighter in her neon braid, pulling until her spine arched like a bowstring, her asshole clenching around Darren’s dick in rhythmic pulses.
Darren watched, hypnotized, as Kenny’s balls slapped Amelia’s chin—*thok-thok-thok*—a grotesque metronome keeping time with his own thrusts into her ass. Her throat bulged obscenely around Kenny’s shaft, tears and spit painting her cheeks in sticky stripes. The traffic-cone light flickered, casting their tangled bodies in hellish orange, shadows elongating like something from a fucked-up puppet show.
Kenny’s voice was raw, shredded—”Take it, *take it*—” as he yanked Amelia’s neon braid like a leash, her skull bouncing off his pelvis with wet smacks. Her asshole pulsed around Darren’s cock, hot and tight even after being stretched by Kenny’s brutal fucking. The air reeked of peach body spray, teenage sweat, and cum, thick enough to taste.
Darren’s fingers dug into Amelia’s plump ass, the soft flesh yielding under his grip as he bottomed out again—her ass swallowing him whole with a wet *schlup* that echoed off the traffic-cone-lit walls. Kenny’s laughter was a wheezing, unhinged thing—half-groan, half-giggle—as he pulled in that fucking stupid braid, shoving Amelia’s face down onto his cock, her throat taking it all. Tears streaked her cheeks, mixing with spit and Kenny’s precum dripping from her swollen lips.
Amelia’s body convulsed between them, caught between Darren’s relentless thrusts and Kenny’s skull-fucking rhythm. Kenny’s hips pistoned forward with the urgency of a guy who’d snorted too much Funyun dust—each slap of his balls against her chin punctuated by a choked *”Gah—fuckin’*—*”* from Amelia.
Darren’s orgasm hit like a sucker punch—no warning, no grace—just a white-hot detonation behind his eyelids as Amelia’s asshole milked him dry. His hips jerked like a faulty piston, cum spilling into her with ragged grunts. Kenny’s laughter—wet and wheezing—echoed around Amelia’s stuffed throat. “*Dude*, you *painted* her insides like a *fuckin’* graffiti artist!”
Kenny’s fingers twisted tighter in Amelia’s neon braid, using it as a handle to skull-fuck her past the point of coherence. Her gagged screams vibrated around his cock, spit-slick and ruined. Darren slumped forward, his softening dick slipping free of her ass with a lewd *pop*, leaving Amelia’s gaping asshole glazed and twitching. Kenny’s grin was feral. “Damn, Capri Sun. You *cream filled* her like a fucking Twinkie.”
Amelia’s lips were swollen, her throat bulging obscenely as Kenny shoved deeper—his hips jerking with the erratic rhythm of a malfunctioning jackhammer. Tears pooled in her lashes, dripping onto Kenny’s Funyun-crumb-dusted thighs. She was a mess— cum leaking from her ass and from her cunt, her neon braid tangled in Kenny’s fist like a leash.
Kenny’s fingers twisting tighter in her hair. “Fuckin’ *take it*, you dirty bitch—” he wheezed, his balls slapping her chin with a wet *thok-thok-thok*. Amelia gagged, her nails digging half-moons into Kenny’s thighs, but Kenny didn’t give a fuck—he skull-fucked her past the point of coherence, her gurgles dissolving into wet, rhythmic chokes.
Her throat bulged obscenely, stretched around Kenny’s cock like a too-small condom. Tears streaked her cheeks, mixing with spit and precum dripping from her swollen lips. Kenny grinned—wild, unhinged—as he leaned over her, and whispered to Darren. “Dude,” he gasped, his hips stuttering, “her *face* is my new favorite *fleshlight*.”
The traffic-cone light flickered, casting Kenny’s shadow monstrous against the wall—a grotesque puppet master jerking Amelia’s neon braid like a leash. Her choked gags dissolved into wet, rhythmic *thok-thok-thoks* as Kenny’s balls slapped her chin with the precision of a metronome set to “teenage desperation.”
Then—*no warning*—Kenny’s hips stuttered. A broken gasp ripped from his throat as his cock pulsed violently down Amelia’s esophagus. Hot ropes of cum shot straight into her stomach, his fingers twisting her braid tight enough to yank a whimper from her spit-slicked lips. “*Fuckin’—take it—swallow it,*” he wheezed, onion breath fanning across her forehead as his orgasm punched through him like a stolen car through a convenience store window.
Amelia gagged—her throat fluttering around his shaft—but Kenny didn’t let up. He held her there, nose mashed into his pubes, as the last spurts dribbled past her uvula. Tears blurred her vision; but it wasn’t all bad, his cum tasted sweet like nerds and Funyun dust. When he finally yanked free, a wet *pop* echoed through the room, followed by Amelia’s cough—a ragged, shuddering thing that splattered Kenny’s thighs with spit-strung jizz.
“*Hack—*fuck*—*” She gasped, her neon braid sticking to her cheek like a drowned worm. Kenny just grinned, wiping her chin with his thumb before shoving it between her lips. “Swallow the evidence, baby,” he chuckled, watching her tongue dart around his finger. Her glare could’ve melted steel, but the way her tongue licked his finger told another story.
Darren flopped onto the bed, sweat pooling in his belly button. His dick twitched—spent but still stupidly interested—as Amelia crawled over, her knees sinking into the cushion beside him. The mattress smelled like Funyuns sweat, cum and pussy juice.
Kenny wiped his dick on the neon braid draped over Amelia’s shoulder. “Dude,” he wheezed, flopping onto the bed beside Darren. “We should start a band, or make a porno.”
Darren blinked. “What?”
Kenny grinned, spreading his arms wide—an impromptu director framing his masterpiece. “Think about it. You—” he poked Darren’s chest, “—on bass. Me—” thumb to his own collarbone, “—vocals, obviously. And *her*—” He jerked his chin toward Amelia, now slumped against the cum-stained couch, neon braid half-unraveled like a frayed guitar string. “*She* plays the skin flute.” He laughed at his own joke, a wet, wheezing sound that dissolved into a cough mid-chortle.
Amelia punched him—weakly—her fist bouncing off Kenny’s shoulder like a deflated balloon. “Fuck you,” she croaked, her voice wrecked. The neon pink of her braid was half-unraveled, sticking to her cheek where Kenny’s cum had dried in crusty streaks.
Kenny grinned, rolling onto his side to face her, his dick still glistening and half-hard against his thigh. “Nah, baby,” he drawled, tapping her nose with a sticky finger. “*You* just got fucked. Twice. By two dudes.” His smirk widened. “*Back-to-back, end to end, bumper to bumper*.”
Amelia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand—still tasting Funyuns and salt—before flipping him off again. “Congrats,” she rasped, voice shredded. “You both lasted like, *what*, three minutes?” She flicked a glob of Darren’s cum off her thigh. It landed with a wet *plop* on Kenny’s bare stomach. “Special Olympic *fuckin’* athletes over here.”
Kenny gasped—mock-offended—and clutched his chest like she’d shot him. “Three minutes? *Three*?” His grin was pure chaos as he flopped onto his back, dick slapping against his belly with a wet *smack*. “Dude, you *wound* me. That was at *least* four and a half, five tops.”
Darren snorted, rubbing his face with a sock he *hoped* was clean. “Four minutes? That’s generous.” He tossed the sock at Kenny’s head—missing by a mile—and watched it land in the puddle of schnapps and cum soaking Amelia’s discarded yoga pants. “More like three fumbling minutes and thirty seconds of effort.”
“But hey, Round Three’s about redemption, baby.”
Kenny’s grin was neon-bright under the flickering traffic-cone light, his dick already perking back up against his thigh like a half-deflated balloon with *ambition*. Darren groaned—part exhaustion, part morbid curiosity—as Kenny grabbed Amelia’s limp wrist and slapped it against his own erection with a wet *smack*. “Special K’s *never* tapped out before midnight,” he crowed, thumbing a smear of Darren’s cum across her clit.
Amelia’s groan vibrated through the mattress. “*God*, you’re like a horny Roomba—just bumping into shit until something *sticks*.” Her neon braid flopped over her shoulder like a dead jellyfish as Kenny rolled on top of her, his knees slotting between her thighs with the precision of a guy who’d done this exact maneuver to an inflatable doll every night.
“Round *fuckin’* Three,” Kenny announced, spreading her legs with his elbows—like he was unfolding a lawn chair. His dick left a snail-trail of precum across her hipbone. “Special K’s *never* tapped out before—*oof*—” Amelia kneed him in the ribs.
Darren watched from the floor, back against the Xbox—controller imprinting *X* and *A* buttons into his shoulder blades. The bedroom light was a dying traffic-cone orange now, flickering in time with Kenny’s thrusts between Amelia’s thighs. Her neon braid had unraveled completely, splayed across the cum-stained comforter like melted highlighters.
Kenny repositioned her so her head hung off the edge of the bed—upside-down, dangling like a fucked-up marionette. Gravity pulled her face scarlet, her inverted lips parted around ragged breaths. Her bare feet kicked weakly at air, flopping like exhausted fish. Kenny grinned—all teeth—and grabbed her ankles, spreading her wider like a frog dissected in biology class.
The bed groaned under their shifting weight. Darren watched—one hand still gripping the Xbox controller—as Kenny’s silhouette eclipsed Amelia’s inverted form. The traffic-cone light flickered, casting Kenny’s shadow monstrous across the ceiling—a two-headed beast with Amelia’s neon braid dangling like a loose umbilical cord.
Kenny pounded her with the rhythm of an epeleptic on an energy drink rush—no finesse, just frenzied piston-fire. Amelia’s upside-down lips parted around a gasp that dissolved into wet, rhythmic *uh-uh-uhs* as Kenny’s hips slapped against her thighs. Her knees wobbled mid-air, toes curling like overcooked shrimp. He glanced at Darren. “Dude,” Kenny wheezed, gripping her ankles tighter, “your turn to get your dick sucked.”
Darren got up—slow, like his bones were made of wet spaghetti—and stood over her. From this angle, Amelia looked like roadkill mid-flip—neon braid dangling toward the floor, inverted face flushed tomato-red, spit stringing from her lips to the carpet. Her pupils were blown wide, the kind of fucked-up that comes from being skull-fucked into another dimension.
Kenny grinned up at him, licking onion dust off his teeth. “Dude. *Dude*. Stick it in her mouth—she’s already *pre-heated*.” Amelia’s inverted lips parted around a groan, her neon braid dangling like a frayed extension cord. Darren hesitated, his dick bobbing stupidly—half-curious, half-traumatized—before Kenny snapped him out of it. “Bro. *Bro*. It’s like a fucking *glory hole* with *braces*.”
Amelia’s inverted lips parted—not in protest, but with the resigned, wet *pop* of a pudding cup being peeled open. Gravity pooled her neon braid toward the carpet in frayed pink rivulets, her upside-down face flushed tomato-red from Kenny’s relentless piston-work beneath her. Darren’s dick bobbed at the sight, twitching like a faulty divining rod over her spit-slicked mouth.
Amelia’s tongue touched the tip of his cock, Darren’s knees nearly gave out. Kenny’s hips jackhammered beneath her, lifting Amelia’s inverted torso with each thrust so her slack mouth bounced against Darren’s dick in wet, sloppy kisses.
“Jesus *fuck*—” Darren choked, fingers tangling in her neon braid—half tugging her closer, half trying not to collapse. Amelia gagged around him, her upside-down throat working around Darren’s cock. The whole scene looked like a porno flick—Kenny’s balls slapping her ass, her torso lifting, Darren’s cock plunging deeper down her throat in a grotesque rhythm.
Kenny wheezed—half-laugh, half-groan—his thrusts kicking Amelia forward into Darren’s cock. Her inverted lips stretched wider, spit dripping onto her own forehead. “Dude,” Kenny gasped, squeezing her ankles like handlebars, “*she’s* like a fuckin’ *human Slurpee machine*—just *keep slurpin’!*”
Darren’s hips stuttered, his cockhead bumping the back of her throat with wet *thok*s. Amelia’s gag reflex kicked in—her inverted body convulsing between them—but Kenny just grinned, twisting her neon braid around his fist. “*Choke* on it, honey” he taunted, dragging her head back onto Darren’s dick by her hair. Her throat bulged obscenely, tears running the wrong way on her upside-down face.
“*Dude*—her pussy feels like its fur lined” Kenny wheezed, pistoning up into her pussy while Darren’s cock slid deeper down her windpipe. Amelia’s inverted lips stretched wider—spit stringing from her chin to her own forehead—as Kenny’s balls slapped her ass in sync with Darren’s thrusts. The traffic-cone light flickered, casting their grotesque shadow-puppet show across the ceiling: three bodies fused into one writhing mass of teenage limbs.
Amelia’s neon braid lashed against Darren’s thighs like a wet whip, the cartilage in her throat clicking around his cock with wet *tok* sounds. Kenny grinned—wild, unhinged—as he used her braid as a leash to yank her head back onto Darren’s dick. “*Fuckin’*—take it—*swallow that cock*—” he gasped, his thrusts lifting her torso so Darren’s cock plunged deeper with every upward jerk.
Darren watched, hypnotized, as Amelia’s inverted lips stretched obscenely wide—her spit dripping *upward* onto her own forehead in gravity-defying strings. Kenny’s balls slapped her ass in sync with Darren’s thrusts, creating a grotesque rhythm that vibrated through her inverted body. Kenny began to say something stipid again but his words dissolved into grunts. Her neon braid hung limp like a drowned worm, swaying with every jerk of Darren’s hips.
Amelia’s gag reflex kicked in, her throat convulsing around Darren’s cock like a broken vacuum cleaner sucking up spaghetti. Her inverted lips stretched wider—spit stringing *upward* in defiance of gravity—as Darren’s hips jerked forward with the finesse of a drunk rodeo clown. The wet *schlup* of her slack mouth taking him deeper mixed with Kenny grunt ing like a fucking animal, the bedsprings squeaking like a dying seagull.
“Fuh—*fuck*—” Darren gasped, fingers twisting in her neon braid like he was reeling in a fish. Amelia’s eyes rolled back—half-gag, half-glazed surrender—as his cock hit the back of her throat with a wet *clunk* that echoed like a vending machine dispensing a soda. Her spit pooled in her own upside-down nostrils, bubbling grotesquely with each nasal exhale. Kenny wheezed laughter as he pounded her, his thrusts jostling her body so Darren’s dick pistoned her throat in sync with the bedsprings’ dying seagull shrieks.
Kenny’s fingers dug bruises into her thighs. “Dude—*dude*—she’s *huffing* your dick like a *fuckin’* asthma inhaler—” His voice cracked mid-taunt as Amelia’s cunt suddenly clenched around him, her inverted body convulsing between them like a electrocuted octopus. Darren barely registered the pressure before his balls tightened—*no warning*—and his orgasm slammed through him like a drunk driver through a guardrail. Hot ropes of cum shot straight down Amelia’s windpipe, her throat pulsing around him in reflexive swallows that made Kenny howl with laughter.
“*Guh—fuh—ck—*” Amelia’s garbled moan vibrated around Darren’s softening dick, her inverted lips dribbling pearly streaks *upward* onto her own forehead in defiance of gravity. Kenny wheezed, his thrusts stuttering as he watched the cum dribble out of the corners of her mouth.
His hips jerked erratically, slapping Amelia’s ass redder than a baboon’s.
Darren pulled out with a wet *shlorp*, his cock glistening under the flickering traffic-cone light. Amelia’s neon braid hung limp like a drowned jellyfish, swaying as she coughed—a ragged, shuddering hack that sprayed Darren’s cum across Kenny’s Funyun-dusted thigh. Kenny grinned, rubbing it into his skin like lotion. “Dude,” he wheezed, tapping Amelia’s nose with his sticky finger, “you just *deep-throated* a protein shake.”
Amelia wiped her mouth—still tasting salt and Darren’s cum—before flipping Kenny off. “Congrats,” she rasped, voice shredded. “You both came in under five minutes. *Again*.” She flicked a glob of Darren’s jizz off her collarbone. It landed with a wet *plop* on Kenny’s bare stomach. “Special Olympics *fuckin’* champions.”
“I’m not done yet sugar tits,” Kenny slurred, his voice hoarse from laughing and cumming and laughing some more. His dick was still hard inside her, if it had a dial it would have been set to “teenage stamina.” He gripped her neon braid—now more unraveled than a Walmart sweater—and yanked her head back. Amelia groaned, her lips swollen and spit-slick, but didn’t resist. Her body moved with the sluggish obedience of a marionette whose strings were made of used bubblegum.
Kenny’s thrusts were less rhythm now and more spastic, like a dying fish flopping on a dock. The bedsprings screamed under them, a high-pitched *skree* that sounded like a seagull being stepped on. Amelia’s head lolled, her neon braid sticking to her cheek in a wet pink snake. Kenny grinned down at her, his teeth glinting in the flickering traffic-cone light. “You look like a fucked-up Pez dispenser,” he wheezed, thumbing a glob of Darren’s cum from her chin and flicking it onto the Xbox.
Amelia groaned, her voice a raspy ruin. “*Fuck* you.”
Kenny’s grin widened. “Already *am*, babydoll.” His hips stuttered—no finesse, just frenzied piston-fire—as he dragged her limp wrist to her own clit. “Play with yourself while I wreck this pussy.”
The room smelled like sweat, salt, and the ghost of microwave popcorn. Kenny’s thrusts were erratic now—less rhythm, more *spazz*—his balls slapping her ass in wet *thok-thok-thoks* that drowned out the Xbox’s idle hum. Amelia’s neon braid had fused to her cheek like a melted gummy worm, her legs splayed wide like roadkill mid-flip.
“Dude,” Kenny wheezed, gripping her hips like handlebars, “your pussy’s got *memory foam*—*molds to my dick*—” His voice cracked mid-brag as Amelia’s cunt clenched around him—*hard*—like a fist around a stolen Slim Jim. His laugh dissolved into a groan, forehead slick against her shoulder.
Amelia’s neon braid hung limp, fused to her cheek with sweat and spit. “*Jesus*—just *hurry up*—” she rasped, fingers scrabbling at the cum-stained sheets. Kenny grinned—*all teeth*—and yanked her braid, arching her back like a bowstring. “*Nah*, babydoll,” he panted, hips stuttering, “*I* paid for the full ride—*gonna milk every*—*fuckin’*—*quarter*—” His thrusts lost rhythm, sloppy now—*wet slaps*—like a busted washing machine on spin cycle. The traffic-cone light flickered, casting his shadow monstrous across the ceiling—*one hand fisted in her hair, the other pinning her wrist to the mattress*—as his balls slapped her ass in erratic *thok-thok-thoks*.
Darren watched from the floor—*back against the Xbox, cum drying on his thighs*—as Kenny’s face twisted. “*Guh—fuh—ck—*” Kenny’s groan dissolved into laughter mid-thrust, his hips jerking like a marionette with its strings cut. Amelia’s cunt clenched around him—*instinct or spite?*—and Kenny’s laugh cracked into a *wheeze* as he came, his cock pulsing inside her as he came. “*Fuh—ck*—*yes*” he gasped, thumb rubbing rough circles on her clit—*not gentle, not kind*—until Amelia’s back arched off the bed, her scream more *scrape* than sound.
Kenny’s cum pulsed inside her like a busted hydrant, hot and thick, flooding her insides with the kind of reckless abandon usually reserved for frat house keg stands. Amelia’s thighs trembled—*unwilling*, but her body betrayed her with a shuddering clench that milked him dry. Kenny wheezed laughter against her shoulder, his onion breath fogging up her sweat-slicked skin. “*Fuck* yeah,” he slurred, hips stuttering like a dying lawnmower.
Kenny collapsed onto her—*sweat and cum and onion dust*—his grin lazy as he nuzzled her neon braid. “*Dude*,” he wheezed, “*your pussy just*—*fuckin’*—*milked me like a*—*goddamn*—*cow*.” Amelia’s groan vibrated through his chest, her fingers twitching in the cum-soaked sheets. Kenny rolled off her—*wet* *schluck*—and flopped onto his back, dick slapping his thigh with a *smack*.
Kenny’s dick still twitching inside her as he grinned at Darren. “*Dude*,” he wheezed, “*her pussy’s like a fuckin’* *Ziploc bag*—*just* *keeps* *sealing* *around* *my* *dick*.” Amelia groaned—*half-protest, half-exhaustion*—as Kenny rolled off her, his cum dripping
onto the sheets beneath them.
Kenny’s jizz spilled out of her—*thick and lazy*—dripping onto the sheets in gloopy strands. He grinned down at her, panting, his fingers sticky as he traced a wet line from her clit to her asshole.
Amelia groaned, her voice *raw*, her neon braid stuck to her cheek like a melted candy cane. “Fuck you,” she croaked, but there was no heat in it—just exhaustion, wooziness.
Darren lay sprawled on the floor—*one arm flung over his eyes, the other limp across his spent cock*—listening to Kenny wheeze like a busted accordion. His ribs ached. His thighs were sticky. His brain hummed, static-y and soft—like a TV left on all night, and his dick hurt.
Amelia slumped against Kenny’s chest—neon braid crusted with cum, legs sprawled wide—her breaths coming in ragged, wet pulls. She blinked at the ceiling—*slow*—like a drunk moth contemplating a lightbulb. Kenny’s arm draped over her stomach—*limp, possessive*—his fingers twitching occasionally—like a dying spider.
Darren lay on the floor—*half-slumped against the Xbox, mouth slack*—staring at the ceiling—*orange light flickering*—his brain too fried to form thoughts—just blank, like the stupid look on his face. His limbs felt like overcooked spaghetti—*limp, useless*—his dick barely twitching—*exhausted*—. The room smelled like *sweat, cum, and Funyuns the *trifecta of teenage depravity*—his stomach twisting—*half-nausea, half-hunger*—but moving was *not* an option.
Kenny, still half-hard, rolled onto his side, sweat-drenched hair sticking to his forehead, grinning like a hyena who just robbed a KFC. teeth yellow in the traffic-cone light. He tapped Amelia’s limp wrist, her neon braid fused to her cheek like melted bubblegum, his grin widening all teeth as he wheezed onion breath. “Dude, next time we gotta get you a fuckin megaphone for all that screamin’.”
Amelia’s eyes slitted open, still pinned under Kenny’s sticky forearm, throat raw from swallowing the boy’s loads. Her voice scraped out like sandpaper on rusted metal. “Ball gag.”
🔞 Candy.AI 🔥 AI Sex Chat – Roleplay, Erotic Stories, Try for Free 🕹️
🤩 Rate this story 🥺
12345
(3.50 out 4 votes)
Pizza_guy #Blackmail #Teen #Threesome