Salvation Army of One

He forced her head down and his cock forward, but without success, as this attempt did not go deep at all. "Don't be in such a hurry, boy," she said, taking the cock out of her mouth.

Back on her feet, she turned around and bent down, exposing her back to him. She used two fingers to open her cunt and waited there balancing on her straight legs. He placed his tip and accepted the invitation, stepping forward. In order to avoid falling, she stepped, too. The push moved both forward until she landed on the desk. Big Q reacted suddenly, complaining and watching out for his portable computer. The action was happening towards the farther end of the room, bringing some disappointment to Francisco, as he could not see so clearly what happened there.

Lara moved quickly away from the desk, surrounding it and stopping with her hands on Big Q himself, who remained seated. Blondie's next penetration attempt was more successful, as she was being stopped by Big Q. Francisco saw how Blondie's hips buried towards Lara's and by her moan of satisfaction, it was evident that Blondie's cock advanced its way into her cunt.

She looked Big Q in the eyes and slowly opened his pants. What she took out might have surprised her because she froze. Francisco needed to move the farthest to the side to get the right angle to see, and then he understood. It was as long as Blondie's, probably twice as thick and it was completely flaccid. Francisco might be looking wrong. She raised it and let go. It dropped. It was dead.

"This has never happened to me before." Her voice was undoubtedly the voice of experience. She made the scene lovely by comments or descriptions that they probably did not fully understand. "I love challenges, though. How many times have you fucked this morning? Or is it the stress? You are a sensitive man after all. I will find your kink. Mmmhh..." And turning her head, she added, "Nice, you are doing a good job in the back, keep fucking me like that." Her slutty words were nearly too much for Francisco, who felt as if he was balancing on the edge of a climax that he wanted to avoid. How could his and Big Q's be at so different erection states looking at the same show? Maybe he was paralyzed from the waist down and therefore the wheelchair, or what?

She licked it once. Then kissed the tip. She formed her lips in a circle, sealing them around the cock head. She might have been working with her tongue, it was difficult to tell. Small moans and dirty expressions escaped every time Blondie pushed forward.

Francisco saw how that flaccid black tropical fruit was eclipsed by her whiteness. He recognized her pink tongue sticking out, making space again. She breathed in and inched forward, her face disappearing in that sea of blackness. The contrast between their skin tones was so vivid, that it was evident that this had never been meant for, nor allowed by, the Creator's rules. Still, they broke them like artists.

With her lips disappearing into the leader's pubic hair, she kept making sounds at every one of Blondie's penetrations, as he was getting it all the way out in between thrusts. After several heartbeats, she pulled off, lifting her face with pride. Big Q's dick was about the same size as before, but it could keep pointing upwards by itself.

At this point, Big Q asked the boy to stop. To step back, or something similar. It was a petition that needed to be repeated as a shouted command.

She breathed deeply two times, and started doing to that black dick what anacondas do to whole eggs. Her tongue and throat worked until her nose was buried on his skin. She was being the animalistic one. The men respected the scheme she was imposing.

Blondie, Francisco and the bodyguard looked on in silence.

Some moments passed, and her glassy eyes dropped some new tears. Francisco saw it bulking on her white neck. Her white skin revealed the unmistakable shape of his cock growing perfectly framed on that pale background. Later, but within the same breath, it looked like she was developing an Adam's apple, which grew and moved.

Towards the end, just when apnea brought too many involuntary movements, she turned slightly and eyed Francisco. She was sharing her success with him!

Francisco felt his own cock wanting to burst out of his underwear. She continued by moving out, leaving a slimy, grown-erect cock free, and a triumphant smile on her own face. She did not cough. Francisco saw her smile before she rested her face on the skin, next to that cock. From the side, it looked like its tip reached behind her ear.

Blondie tried to resume the fuck, but was yelled at by Big Q, so he needed to conform with stroking it, standing there. Alone. The line of command had turned into a messy web that only they understood.

Big Q lifted her, using both arms. She placed her tied wrists behind his head and her legs on his chair. Her cunt approached the slimy tip. Once the tip was inside, she stopped there. She held her eyes closed. She raised her legs further and tried to become weightless, but did not sink at all. Big Q held her from the waist, and pulled downwards. She arched her head backwards, squeezing her eyes closed. Most of its head was in when she pulled her body upwards. She started sinking again and managed the same penetration length without his aid, using only her weight. She exhaled a prolonged moan. She pulled up and sank down, then waited. Up, down, wait. She moved more weight to her arms, letting her cunt rub the top third of his cock in a continuous up-and-down shake. The movement got its rhythmic cadence and its sound filled the room.

She increased her rhythm more and more and looked possessed, less participative. It was only her and his cock. Her head, resting on his shoulder, seemed to have disconnected senses such as sight and hearing. Her moans revealed that she sensed only physical pleasure coming from that big, black cock and she had lost control. She groaned with fury and her lower body started to shake.

She then raised her hands arching his body backwards, it might have felt differently that way. With all her weight sitting on that cock, it was halfway in already. She turned to the side and hit the desk, close to the laptop computer.

An anti-climax reaction followed, as Big Q got angry like before. She took some distance from the desk and ran the wheelchair to the middle of the room. She faced Francisco and held the belt hanging from the fan. It started to twist by the slow fan rotation.

She sat on his cock again. She controlled her weight by using her legs and stabilizing herself by holding the belt. Big Q was about to say something, but she hushed him. She resumed her enjoyment of that oversized toy. She shared another one of those looks with Francisco.

The twisting of the belt raised her slightly and slowly. When her cunt reached the tip of the cock, she let go, dropping her weight. She buried half his cock and moaned... no, she screamed from her stomach, looking with lust to Francisco. It was, luckily, too big. She held the belt again. Big Q moved his hands from the wheelchair's wheels to her, touched her legs, belly and ass.

Blondie approached and yelled something. But he needed to wait, it was clearly Big Q's turn. The discussion was clearly distracting for her as she both hushed and grimaced at their verbal exchange. The wheelchair started to slowly turn as the belt twist reached a maximum. She fucked the top part of that cock again and recovered her smile. She giggled and moaned, as spasms transmitted through her body.

At this point, the fan overheated and produced a short circuit bringing darkness to the entire room. Francisco could still see them fucking, as the evening lights shone through the window. But it was mostly her luxurious body, as it was easy to see, as the men disappeared more in the darkness of the room.

Blondie protested again, but was cut short by Big Q.

Francisco's eyes were starting to get used to the new darkness because he saw her eyes rolling, when she said, "Okay. Okay. Come here."

She dropped the belt and turned her torso to a side of the chair, using her finger to ask him to come closer. He obeyed, so she placed her hands around his neck first and slid downwards. She was bent to one side of the chair and had locked Blondie in an embrace that moved downwards. She opened her mouth, tongue out and licked, kissed and swallowed his cock.

She gagged, mostly at the beginning, but after a few successful attempts of reaching deep in her throat, she looked like she was recovering control. Nevertheless, every time the cock rubbed and pushed deep in her throat, her legs squeezed, pelvis pulsated and muscles around her anus relaxed and tensed.

Francisco had a very nice view. Her cunt slid along that black shaft, while her throat and tongue fought for the right balance between pleasure and air. But none of the men could actually move much. One was in a wheelchair so had some difficulty with his legs restraining some movement options. And the other was locked in her arms, so could not take distance to complete a slam. It was she who was the one moving, the one leading, despite being a wrist-tied hostage.

She was the one putting rhythm to the scene, and the one in control. It was clear she was the black widow spider of that web of command.

The men were making noises that became louder. It resembled the fury of wild animals. Francisco was aroused by the wrongness and transcendence of his racist association. Genesis was wrong, God created man in a wild predator image!

Francisco was really horny. He danced with his less-conflicting demons and got hypnotized by that ass full of fresh bruises. He could see her squirt-wet ass with anal muscles retracting and pushing as the cock came in and out her cunt. He started to feel less pain at his internal moral disagreement. He thought about the Buddha and of Jesus, and all those that could actually practice really impersonal love. It felt so enlightening to see a loved one enjoying themselves. Why had mortals the mundane need to feel attribution for others' well-being? For Francisco, it was not important that it was not his cock which was the one breaking Lara, but was happy to discover that he was genuinely happy for her being broken the way she wanted.

Francisco turned towards the door. "What are you waiting for?" Francisco added an invitational gesture with his head to his words. The man guarding the door acknowledged the invitation and stepped forward in the room.

He took the tank top off and Francisco could see all his body muscles. His physical form was nearly pornographic in a sturdy, inverted-triangle shape. He took his cock out. It was also thick, erect and fully lubricated with his own juices after more than one hour of watching the show.

He was the tallest and strongest, and when he positioned himself behind her ass, Lara stopped moving. She took the cock out of her mouth and turned her head to see. She did not manage to see the man by the angle, but she crossed eyes with Francisco. They met there in the darkness of that room and situation. Beyond politics, terrorism and his own demons, human lust and ecstasy, they felt pure, serene and stronger.

The man pressed the tip of his cock in her ass, buttocks held apart by Big Q. Nobody or nothing moved, except for that cock creeping into her ass. And her lungs pushing air out through her lips which were brought together and pushed forward, creating a small opening through which the air escaped. The corners of the mouth were slightly pulled back, creating a slight smile or "O" shape; her eyes turning white. She turned back to Blondie and bit on his leather belt, which was the closest she found. She screamed again through her teeth. Blondie's cock was squeezed by her cheek and eye towards one side. She had her own spit mixed with pre-cum all over her face. That cock, then the only one outside of her body, started to pulsate again. Its owner's hands gripped her hair harder.

Francisco saw one strong, black ass starting to move back and forth. His butt muscles revealed how his cock was working its way through her anus.

Lara finally reacted to the cock she was about to face-crash, and put it back in her mouth, changing the pitch of her cries. And then it was as no air could escape from or ingress to her anymore, as all her holes firmly gripped three black plugs.

The orchestra of moans covered something Francisco saw happening on the runway.

Slowly, but surely, that beautiful white marshmallow started to fill and sink into the warm dark chocolate. A shoulder, a part of her vest, or a shaking foot, were only small peaks of an iceberg. Francisco could not imagine what she was feeling. Luckily. He could not, however, avoid smelting in his own desire. His cock has been hard and produced pre-cum that wetted his cassock. He needed to admit that voyeurism was becoming an enjoyable obsession for him.

She was being used by the three men, like an old piece of washing cloth -- torn apart, twisted and squeezed, dried and wetted -- fucking her dirt out of her. Her gagging sound announced Blondie to be the first to come. His ejaculation was nowhere to be seen. The butt guard followed, as his anal-fuck intensity increased and was prolonged, reaching a maximum. And her pleasure moan announced the coming of the everlasting cock in her cunt last.

The used piece of cloth was left to fall to the ground, slowly crawling and dripping cum from all places; until reaching Francisco, who felt like taking his cock out and fucking her next. But he couldn't. He would wait. Mostly because his hands were tied, but also because it was not what he desired the most. So, he calmed down and tried to give all the physical closeness she was looking for. And all of them rested for several minutes, and Francisco said nothing about what he saw outside.

Blondie rested on the sofa, eyes closed, while the guard went back to standing next to the door. And eventually he spoke, pointing to the runway. Big Q moved quickly back to his desk and checked the laptop that had been off since the room's fuse went off. Blondie jumped out the window and went on his way.

It took some time for Francisco to understand what had happened.

A smuggling flight had landed and taking the airport was part of something more criminal, not only a political riot. The announcement of its arrival was missing as the messages never arrived on the laptop. At the same time, military forces from the capital had also arrived and were taking back most of the airport. Surrendered rebels were to be seen around the building. But nobody had come looking in their dark room. Lara persuaded Big Q to give up himself as there were no severe consequences. And those involved in the rape attempt of the teacher and injuring the pilot would face the law.

"And remember, I was never here," she added, at last.

Then they remained silent. In the confusion, Lara took a knife from the table and cut all the strips. She needed only to smile at the door guard, who let her and Francisco out the room.

"It was a brilliant plan, and an even magnificent execution," Francisco praised.

She looked at him and limited her reply, "What plan?"

She held Francisco's hand, but led him towards the runway, not the airport entrance. She only said, "Let's assume I also want to avoid the conservative government."

She stood there, looking for something. Francisco pointed towards the bike that came in their flight. They mounted it, with one on the seat and pedals, and the other seated on the frame and steering. They crossed the entire length of the dark runway and left the bike as the sand got deeper. They ran into a canyon in the middle of the not-so-cold night. The sky was clear, and the full moon led their way. She washed herself in a creek, and rested a few hours, locked in an embrace. He was not there to question, only to follow and to smell her scent. He knew their way out would be climbing out an easy scramble further deep in the canyon. He knew he would fuck her on the summit, and he also knew he would never let her go again.

After reaching the top, and after much reflection, Francisco finally said, "Lara, I cannot give you what they did," and before concluding, he waited to find the right words, to read her expression, and also to give her the chance to interrupt. "But, if you accept me by your side, I promise I wouldn't take it away from you... from us, I mean."

With those final words, an embrace full of affection and understanding quickly turned into his shirt being unbuttoned, her hands being bound, and the result of their lustful night developed as he had dreamed.