Wendy stared carefully at the test tube as she poured just a little bit more aspartame in. She added a dab of phosphoric acid, a drop or two of sodium benzoate and shook it a little. She stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth unconsciously, frowning at the tube.
               Wendy was a genius, almost. She had great ideas, wonderful ideas, brilliant ideas. None of them ever came to anything, but that was almost always, or at least usually, or more often than not due to circumstances beyond her control.
               Last month she had developed a new rocket fuel. It would have been ten times more powerful than what NASA used, if she hadn't burned her house down along with all her notes and equipment.
               Before that she cured cancer. Only the cure killed the patient immediately after the cancer. She found a way to run an internal combustion engine on water, except the fumes given off were deadlier than most war gases.
               Because nobody else appreciated - or trusted - her creativity, the only jobs she could get were ones where others told her what to do, what tests to perform and what products to test. She hated that. She wanted to work on her own inventions. Unfortunately, nobody would pay her to do that.
               So she worked on them on her own time when she could, usually at home. Which was how she'd burned the last one down. Now, since she was staying at her sister's house until the insurance paid off (They were being a little snarly), she had to be careful of what she did.
               As such, she was working on something with no productive use at all. It was a diet cola. Surely she couldn't burn down anything developing a diet cola. And if it worked she would be rich, and could then have her own laboratory and develop whatever she wanted, like that interdimensional portal she'd always dreamed about.
               Wendy had not been a popular girl in high school. Boys found her almost beyond comprehension, with her talk of atoms, electrons, neurons, neutrons, biospheric phenomena, chemical decomposition, and other esoteric scientific information that fascinated her.
               She had not been much more popular in college, though by then she hardly ever thought about boys, or rather, men, anyway. She went to classes and studied all day, doing extra work whenever the time permitted. She went to no parties, joined no sororities, made only one friend, her roommate, a bemused blonde who liked almost everyone, and thought Wendy was cute, even if she was weird.
               Wendy's straight A grades had gotten her hired immediately after her doctoral thesis had been published in Scientific American, and she had been working for one of the world's biggest chemical manufacturers ever since.
               Do-Cam chemical had learned to cope with her little accidents, and with strenuous supervision, they no longer happened. Her supervisor, Doctor Lotham, tolerated her, even if she did irritate him. About chemicals she had few equals, but about everything else she was innocent and ignorant almost to the point of being retarded.
               Doctor Lotham suspected (correctly), that she was a virgin, and also (correctly), that she thought little, if at all, about sex or men, or anything much beyond chemicals. He didn't like unpredictable genius half-wits working in his labs but couldn't get rid of her. He did his best to keep her from burning down the building though, and in this he was mostly successful.
               Part of his irritation was due to that innocence of hers. He had tried, shortly after she started working for him, to seduce her. She was, after all, quite attractive, in an innocent, awkward sort of way.
               She had a terrific body, which was something she seemed not to notice at all. Her body was slender, her breasts full, round, and high on her chest. The first time he'd seen her in a tank top (the air-conditioning had broken down), he'd nearly fainted at how well she filled it out.
               She had long, wavy red hair, which flew all about her sweet, oval shaped face, often falling into experiments when she bent over something. She was always meaning to cut it but never remembered about it when she had the time and never had the time when she remembered.
               She had thin, wire framed, aviator style glasses.(Actually she had twenty-six pairs because she was always losing them and buying new ones, then finding the old ones). When she could find them, and remember to wear them, they made her face look exceptionally thoughtful and intelligent.
               She had a chatty, charming innocence that made everyone like her, especially women. As for men, they lusted after her, but, like Doctor Lotham, couldn't seem to get enough hints through whatever occupied her mind at any given time for her to realize what they meant.
               You couldn't hint with Wendy. You had to be straightforward. Many men were, asking outright for a date. She almost always said no, simply because she either didn't want to spare the time, or couldn't imagine what to talk about.
               Wendy was no fool, after all. She was aware of her, um, her lack of conversational skills. She had seen too many eyes glazed over by her talk of dio-crystalline blood segmentation and such, for her not to realize that other people found her, well, boring. She was slightly hurt by this, but could think of no way to change it.
               Some men persisted anyway, lured on by the tantalizing hints of what lay beneath the rather odd clothes she often wore. Wendy sometimes looked like a cross between a Welsh peasant girl, a Hungarian Gypsy, and a waif off the set of Little Orphan Annie.
               She had little time for clothes, and wore them only because she had to. What she wore depended on what happened to be nearest when she got out of bed, or what was clean. If that meant wearing a nice bright red shirt with a yellow vest and a pair of green pants, well so what.
               She often forgot to do her laundry, and once had worn the same dress for two straight weeks before an irritated Doctor Lotham had assigned a secretary to go home with her and help her pick up all her scattered clothes and wash them.
               When men persisted with their sometimes exceptionally strong hints about sex and romance, Wendy still didn't get it. If a date talked about how lovely the stars were she would recite star systems and distances. Compliments on how lovely she was would bring a lecture on human genetics.
               Wendy was a ditz, a brilliant, very well educated ditz, but a ditz nonetheless. As for sex, well, the human brain was the most important sexual organ, and hers was always on overdrive with more important work. It was hard for a thought about how gorgeous a man was, for example, to penetrate the layers of high intensity contemplation of the chemical constant of a multi- numeric biochemical decomposition of a high yield alloy.

               In any case, Wendy wasn't likely to notice how handsome a particular man was since her mind was so preoccupied she often ran into doors. Doctor Lotham had actually had rubber fitted at head level(Wendy's head level) on all the sharp corners around the main lab where she worked.
               She got to and from work in cabs. She could manage buses but didn't like them. As for cars, well, she often became preoccupied and missed things like brake lights and stop signs. She'd lost her licence two weeks after getting it.
               An absolutely crude come on, something of the "Want to go and fuck our brains out?" variety, would at least be understood. It was hard to be so crude with so sweet natured and pretty and innocent a woman though, no matter how irritating she was, and would not, in any case be successful.
               Wendy simply didn't do sex. She didn't think about it. She wasn't tempted to it. She hadn't even masturbated in more than ten years. One had to think about sex to masturbate and she didn't, so she didn't.
               She put the mixture in the blender and turned it on, leaning back against the opposite counter as she watched it froth and bubble. Her behind felt cold and she shifted over to a desk. She wasn't wearing any pants, and was wearing only a G-string, which was why the counter felt cold on her bare behind.
               She had run out of clothes that morning because Alexandra, her sister, had finally gotten frustrated at the layers of dirty clothes on her rug and gathered them all up last night to wash. So when Wendy had gotten up that morning she'd found her room barren of clothing, save for the fluffy pink nightgown she was then wearing.
               She had remembered then, Alexandra picking up all her clothes last night, though she'd barely noticed the muttering woman at the time, and had deduced, correctly, that Alexandra had taken all her clothes away to wash. She had gone down to the basement and found a pile of clothes, including underwear, and, not really knowing what was hers and what wasn't, had simply thrown off her nightgown and put on the first things that came to hand.
               The G-string was Alex's. It had been a gag gift and had been gathering dust for months. She'd decided to wear it next week for her anniversary so had washed it. Wendy didn't know it was a G-string when she'd put it on. She'd been too busy thinking about the effects of phennylanine on the left brain spheres of reptiles.
               She'd also put on one of her niece, Kim's bras, which turned out to be too loose, being a thirty eight C instead of the thirty four D she herself needed. She'd pulled on one of her niece Robin's shirts, which was far too tight, and a pair of her brother-in-law Rob's jeans, which were too big.
               The bra had so annoyed her during the day, jerking and bouncing on her breasts, that she'd taken it off. That, however, made her bare  breasts push out firmly against Robin's too tight shirt. She didn't realize this but not a man in the lab hadn't noticed the two stiff points of her nipples and groaned silently to themselves.
               As for the pants, they kept falling down. Fortunately, Kim's shirt was long, even if it was tight, and had (barely) covered her behind and front when the pants had slipped down around her ankles. One of the female lab assistants had tied a cord around her waist that morning, but she'd gone to the bathroom a little while ago and forgot the cord.
               So after the pants had fallen down around her ankles for the fourth or fifth time she'd simply taken them off. It was after hours and she was alone in the lab, working on her soft drink, so what did it matter anyway, she thought. She'd been rather surprised to find the panties she was wearing had no behind, other than a little strip running down between her buttocks. She'd been amazed, in fact, wondering how that could possibly have happened.
               She had since forgotten about it, forgotten that she wasn't wearing pants either. She was intent on her work and nothing else held her attention for long. When Fred, one of the security guards had wandered through and said hello, she'd responded with an absent minded greeting, totally unaware that as she bent over a microscope, staring at a gene pattern, Fred was looking at her nearly bare bottom and getting a tremendous hard-on.
               She had not noticed the tremendous fight Fred had undergone, as he repressed the urge to run over and stuff his cock into Wendy's tight virginal sheath regardless of her wishes or desires. Fred knew, as did everyone, about how, well, how, uh, eccentric, Doctor Jennings was, and so, pretending to himself that she was underage and that he would be fired and imprisoned if he touched her, he tore his eyes away and ran back down to the front desk.
               Needless to say the building's security guards, and janitors spent a lot of time in her lab that evening. All of them had the same thoughts Fred had had, all of them got big boners staring at Wendy as she moved around the lab. Even if she didn't bend over they still saw her full breasts pushing against the tight, thin fabric, and her lovely thighs peeking out from the shirt, which was barely below crotch level.
               Wendy noticed not a thing. She was aware, in a distant sort of way, when people were there, but didn't pay it any heed, and as for her pants, she had simply forgotten she wasn't wearing any. She was completely unaware of the vision she presented or its effect on the men.
               After a while even the boldest of the men could think of no logical excuse, supposing she had asked, for what they were doing in the lab, and so she was left, except for occasional passers by, pretty much alone.
               There were occasional phone calls, from her brother-in-law to make sure she was all right, from Doctor Lotham, to make sure she was keeping to her promise and only working on a simple soft drink formula and not something more esoteric(and dangerous), and from her sister Alex, wanting to know if she'd taken her G-string.
               "What's a G-string?" she'd asked in confusion.
               "Never mind," Alex replied with a sigh.
               Late that evening she finally finished, what she thought would be a tasty drink, with low calories(no calories actually. Wendy never did things half way). There left the problem of testing it. She normally tested things in machines or on lab animals, but there were no machines for measuring taste, and lab animals could not talk.
               She halted there and pondered how to develop vocal cords in animals for about half an hour. Finally, after reviewing her notes and deciding that in no way could the drink be dangerous to drink, she decided to test it on the only available subject, herself.
               Not that she was an expert. Actually, her nieces would be far better subjects. They drank diet soft drinks all the time. Excited by such excellent solution, she poured the drink into several jars and put them in her shoulder bag.
               Then she halted in disappointment. It was almost eleven. By the time she got home the girls would be in bed. Tomorrow they'd go to work. She'd have to wait until tomorrow night. She hated waiting for results. She glared at one of the jars, then opened it and put it to her mouth.
               She sipped it, swished it around in her mouth, then drank it down. It didn't taste too bad at all. She drank several more mouthfuls. No it didn't taste bad, she thought. She drank down the whole cup and then sat there trying to analyse the taste.
               What she really needed were other diet soft drinks to compare hers with. She started to get up then sat back, feeling a little dizzy. She blinked in surprise, wondering if she'd forgotten to eat dinner again. She remembered Rob calling to remind her, and seemed to recall munching on sandwiches as she worked.
               Anyway, the dizziness was going away, though she did feel flushed. She wondered if the air-conditioning had been turned off for the night. Doctor Lotham seldom let her stay late so she didn't really know. Maybe the security guards would know.
               She sat up again and walked towards the door, but her legs felt rubbery. She paused, sitting back against a table. She put her hands against her cheeks and closed her eyes briefly. With her hands pressed against her cheeks her arms pressed into her breasts, squashing them a little. She noticed how good that felt.
               She pressed a little more, kind of rubbing her arms from side to side. Her breasts felt so excited and so warm and... and (She searched for a word but all she came up with was good). She brought her hands down and felt her breasts, squeezing them a little through the thin shirt. That felt even better.
               She noticed about then how nice her groin felt, as she pressed it back against the edge of the table. In fact she had been rubbing herself unconsciously against the edge for almost a minute. It felt really, really....  good there.
               It struck her finally, that she was aroused, very aroused, in a sexual manner. She found that quite perplexing, but could find no other explanation for how swollen her breasts were and how hard and sensitive her nipples had become. She slid a hand down into her G-string and rubbed between her pussy lips. Yes, definite vaginal secretions. That was a firm indication of sexual arousal.
               Wasn't it?
               It had been a long, long time since she'd felt it herself, other than in the early mornings just after waking, but still, she knew the scientifically observable signs. And she had them.
               In spades.
               Her nipples were so sensitive they were aching just from pressing into the shirt. And she couldn't seem to stop herself from stroking and squeezing her breasts. She rubbed her groin back on the edge of the counter, her breathing becoming heavier, her skin more flushed.
               She mashed her breasts together, sighing in pleasure, then, her mind whirling, she undid the shirt, freeing her hot, swollen mammaries from the tight constraint. She groaned in relief as the shirt fell open and her full round breasts pushed out into her hands.
               She kneaded the soft flesh, her head rolling slowly from side to side as she arched her back and rubbed her pussy on the edge of the table. She spread her legs, trying to get more pressure on her pussy, then, an idea appearing, she shifted over to the corner of the table and gasped in delight as the corner dug up into her sex.
               "Ohhhhhhhh!" she sighed, stroking and squeezing her breasts as she rubbed her pussy against the corner.
               Her eyes closed and she whimpered in passionate heat, her body, her brain throbbing and pulsing with sexual desire. She felt a sudden all encompassing wave of pleasure, and cried out in bliss as her body shuddered through the orgasm.
               An orgasm, also known as a climax, was supposed to release the built up sexual tension, and let the arousal dissipate. She knew this, vaguely, in that part of her mind that was still thinking logically. But in this case... it didn't.
               She felt just as aroused, even more aroused after her orgasm. She continued massaging her breasts, which were growing even hotter, and her nipples, which were becoming harder and more sensitive. She ground her pussy down hard on the corner of the table, forcing the material from the silky black G-string up into her sex.
               She mewled in delight, humping blissfully against the corner. Then her hand slipped down between her legs and she rubbed herself right over her clitty. She screamed,, the top of her head almost blasting off as an enormous blast of ecstatic sexual pleasure ripped through her mind and body.
               It blew her backwards onto the table, where she trembled and shook, her head jerking and bouncing on the table, her legs flopping and bouncing in mid-air as they hung over the edge. She jammed both her hands down into the G-string, rubbing frantically at her pussy, as if it were on fire and only heavy stroking could extinguish the flames.
               Which was what the wide-eyed security guard saw when he came through the door in response to her scream. To say he was surprised would be to say Jesse Helms would disapprove of his daughter marrying a black man, or better yet a black woman.
               His eyes opened so wide his eyeballs almost popped right out of his head. His cock expanded so rapidly it nearly tore his pants. His jaw dropped to his chest as he stared at the gorgeous redhead, her legs spread wide, her breasts hard and round and naked, her back arched, her hands rubbing at her pussy as she grunted and moaned, and he came in his pants.
               His cock remained hard, however, for the sight before him was enough to raise an erection in a dead homosexual. He thought about the possibility of being fired, or arrested, briefly. The sight in front of him drove everything else out of his mind.
               Wendy was writhing from side to side on the table now, knocking books and papers off as she grunted in sexual delirium.
               The security guard rushed forward and fell atop her, his lips mashing down against hers as his hands locked around her hot swollen breasts and squeezed repeatedly. She kissed back, purely on instinct, groaning and whimpering as his tongue shot into her mouth and his hands mashed and fondled her breasts.
               He gripped her G-string and literally tore it off, desperately fumbling with his pants. He jerked them down and his rock hard cock sprang out erect and hungry. He gripped her thighs, jerking her bottom to the end of the table, then pushed his cock against her hot, dripping pussy.
               He had to push her own hands away to get his cock between her pussy lips, but once there, he thrust hard, her pussy a sucking hot slimy vortex that pulled him inwards until he was buried to the balls in her belly.      There was some pain involved since his cock did pop her cherry, but she hardly felt it. She let out a long, surprisingly low pitched groan of relief, her back arching hard and her head rolling slowly. Then she just grunted in happiness as he started to wildly pound his organ down into her for all he was worth.
               "Oh God! Oh Jesus! Oh Fuck! Oh Christ! Oh God! Oh God! Oh! Oh Yes! Oh Jesus!" he gasped, as he thrust into her again and again.
               Her pussy was a roaring furnace, a hot velvet vice that was squeezing and chewing his cock like it meant to tear it off.
               He mashed her breasts together as he crushed her lips with his. His buttocks humped furiously as he skewered the groaning, undulating redhead. She grunted in pleasure each time he thrust into her, then sighed each time he drew back.
               After a long minute, she began to hump back against him, as if she'd never thought of it before. Her arms, which had lain limp on the table, went up around him and pulled him against her, and her legs slid around him as well as she tried to grind her pussy onto the hard male organ driving into it.
               She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes as the powerful jolts of sexual pleasure rippled up and down her spine. She whimpered in amazed pleasure, and moaned in bewildered delight. Then she came again, the orgasm massive, totally devastating to the helpless, hapless woman.
               She clutched him too tightly for him to move, gurgling in insane pleasure as she ground herself against his tool. He wiggled and humped his hips, throwing short but rapid-fire strokes into her sucking hot belly, and she jerked and shuddered and whimpered as she clutched him to her.
               He came, his jism gushing into her newly opened tunnel, spewing down into her womb as she writhed in his arms. He groaned, throwing a final series of thrust into the woman's crotch, then halting. She continued to grind herself against him, even as her orgasm spent itself.
               He gaped for breath, trying to disentangle himself against her resistance.
               "Noooo!" she moaned. "Noooo!"
               "Jesus, Lady. You still want to fuck?" he gasped.
               "Yesssss! Fuuuuuck!" she whimpered, saying the word for the first time in her life. "Fuck meeee!"
               He pulled himself away and staggered back, staring at her as she began to desperately rub at her pussy.
               Another security guard came in then, checking on the disappearance of the first. His eyes bugged out just as the first had.
               "Holy fucking Jaysus!" he gasped.
               "Fuuuuck meeeee!" Wendy moaned as she thrust a finger into her sex hole, then a second, then a third.
               "You... You... " the new guard gasped.
               "I already did," the first sighed, looking down at his limp prick with regret.
               The second guard moved forward as if in a trance. Wendy grabbed his crotch as he stood before the table staring at her. He quickly undid them and took out his bulging prong. Wendy gave a glad gasp and grabbed it, jamming it against her pussy.
               He thrust forward and she cried out in glee, arching her back again, bouncing from side to side as her legs hugged him against her. He bent forward, sucking on her right nipple, sucking in a chunk of hot breast with it and chewing as he sucked.
               "Oohhhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhhh!" Wendy cried.
               Her arms jerked around him and pulling him in tight, mashing his face against her breasts as she ground herself against his cock.
               He licked and sucked at her breasts, then pried himself loose and stood straight.
               He forced her legs back, holding them back to either side of her body, then began to pump his thick pole of flesh into her with long hard strokes. Wendy grunted joyously, her body shaking and twitching and trembling as the cock pumped inside her belly.
               She came again, crying out in pleasure.
               "Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Uuuuaaaaahh!!" she screamed. "AAAhhhhhh!!!"
               "Jesus Christ!" the guard gasped, thrusting furiously, his cock a blinding piston as it drove into her hot, tight, wet sex.
               "Wonder what she's on," the janitor said.
               "I don't know but I wish I could get some for my wife," the third security guard said.
               "Me too," the fourth gasped.
               They all stared as the second man skewered the writhing, thrashing redhead. Then as one, they stepped forward.
               The three men came up behind the man pumping into her and stared down in hunger.
               "Pull her off the table man, where we can get at her better," the janitor growled.
               He gripped her under her arms, lifting the slender woman over the side of the table. The second guard held her hips as his cock slipped out of her and they easily lowered her to the floor, positioning her on her hands and knees. Wendy stared through glassy eyes, her head falling down, her body sagging.
               The second guard knelt behind her, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her bottom up and back. He pushed his cock in between her slick, swollen sex lips and then thrust hard, skewering the redhead. Her head jerked up and she arched her back as she gargled in wondrous pleasure. Her hands came off the floor as she reared up like a startled mare.
               "Awww, give it to her, man," one of the guards gasped.
               The janitor cursed and dropped to his knees in front of her, grabbing a fist full of thick wavy red hair, forcing her face forward. He held a bunched up mass of hair in his left hand as he quickly undid his right and took out his hard black prick. He pushed it against her lips and slapped it against them several times.
               She stared glassily and did nothing.
               "Suck it, baby," he gasped, forcing his cock through her lips.
               She grunted in surprise and her eyes seemed to focus on the long black cock sticking into her mouth. Her cheeks automatically contracted inward to halt its forward thrust.
               "Suck baby, suck," the janitor cried. "Suck my cock!"
               The words penetrated Wendy's bleary, befuddled mind, and triggered some hidden, long dormant memory of a junior high school date. She sucked tentatively.
               "Yeah. Yeah! Suck that cock, baby! Work your tongue on it!" he groaned.
               Wendy started sucking on his prick with more force, working her tongue against the front. The janitor began pumping it slowly in and out of her mouth, but he had no real need to. The second guard was pounding his cock into her from behind  with such force her body was jerking back and forth furiously.
               Her breasts hung below her, swinging back and forth as the two men worked their cocks into her soft body. One of the other security guards crouched and gripped her left breast in both hands, kneading and twisting and squeezing it with wide eyes.
               Wendy whimpered and groaned, sucking the black cock that slid back and forth in her mouth as her body vibrated with sexual tremors and crackling explosions of lust and desire. She humped back against the fat cock stuffing her pussy, whining with pleasure as it drove her higher and higher into a blissful sexual storm.
               Cum flooded down into her belly and she sought to arch her back in gladness, but the janitor held tight to her hair as he picked up the pace of his face fucking. The security guard fell back with a moan and another took his place, his pants already off. He pressed his own bulging prong against the red furred sex and drove into her to the hilt.
               Wendy screamed around the cock filing her mouth, then started shaking and writhing and thrashing maniacally. The two men had to hold her tightly to keep her from flying and rolling off under the table. The security guard kept his balls pressed against her thighs as he ground his hips against the soft, round buttocks and held tight to her waist.
               As for the janitor, as Wendy threw her head up and back and screamed, the janitor thrust forward and his soft nosed cock punched right into her throat and slid down her gullet like a big chunk of syrupy meat. Within seconds his balls were laying against her jaw and her throat tube was squishing his cock in a wondrous massage.
               "Ohhhhh maaaan!" he groaned.
               "Jesus! He shoved it right down her throat!"
               "Holy fuck!"
               "Wow!"
               "Lookit that!"
               The janitor's hands clutched the back of Wendy's head as he ground his loins into her face. His face clenched tightly and he groaned in excitement. Wendy's body continued to hump back and forward as a result of the hard, rutting stroke of the security guard behind her. Her nose mashed against the janitor's abdomen and she made odd strangled sounds.
               The janitor drew back, gasping in pleasure at the feel of his cockshaft as it slid up her gullet. He pumped back in again, sliding his big cock back and forth in the delirious woman's throat as she whimpered and moaned against him.
               "Can she breath like that?" one of the guards asked.
               "I don't give a shit," the janitor said through clenched teeth. "Uhhhhhhh... HUuuhhhhhhhh!" he cried as his slimy white juice poured out the tip of his cock and sluiced down into her belly.
               He pumped furiously, then thrust deep and held her against him until the last of his juice was drained.
               Then he fell back with an exhausted groan, his thick cock popping out of her throat. Wendy panted for breath, her chest heaving, her face red. She sagged down to the floor but the guard behind her gripped her wrists and pulled them back straight down along her body.
               He jerked her back against him, using her arms like the handles of a wheelbarrow as he humped into the moaning girl's sex tunnel. The fourth guard stepped forward and pulled her head up by the hair, pushing his own black cock into her mouth.
               She sucked on and gnawed on it as the man slid it slowly in her oral cavity. Then the guard behind her gave a cry of release and flooded her pussy with semen. The black guard pulled out of her mouth and quickly moved around behind her, then buried his own hot staff in her belly.
               She whimpered, her head shaking from side to side then nodding up and down with hard little jerks. The guard's cock thrust into her with savage fury, his hips slapping loud against her jiggling buttocks.
               The first guard, despite having cum twice, was again hard and dropped to his knees in front of her. He gripped her hair and pulled her lolling head up, then pushed his prick into her mouth. She gagged on it as he screwed it around in her oral cavity.
               "Come on, honey, suck it, suck my prick," he gasped.
               He twisted her hair, and she gasped in pain.       "Suck it. Suck it," he demanded.
               She sucked weakly on his throbbing red pole as he began to fuck into her with deliberate force. He pressed his hands tightly against the sides of her head, forcing it up, then rammed his cock right down her throat. Her eyes widened and she struggled against him but the guard behind her grabbed her wrists and pulled back on them like the one before him had, using them as levers to jerk her buttocks back against him.
               The two rutted into her from either side, gasping and moaning in pleasure as her holes sucked on their cocks. Then the guard in back spewed his load down into her sucking womb, and shortly after the first guard poured his down her throat.

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