The black choker felt tight against my throat as I adjusted it in the mirror, wondering if it was too much. I'd thrown on this maroon thing, something easy to push aside, and waited for the knock. When it came, soft and hesitant, I opened it to find both of them there—two shadows filling my doorway, smelling of smoke and street air. My stomach flipped, but I moved back and let them in without speaking.<br><br>They entered quiet, four hands immediately on me, mouths on my throat and collarbone. I gasped when fingers pushed under my maroon outfit, rough and urgent, finding how wet I was. Embarrassingly so. They knew.<br><br>I ended up on my stomach first, face down in the pillow, ass up while one drove into me from behind. The other moved around, offered himself to my mouth, and I took him because I wanted to be full everywhere. They used me like that, passing me back and forth, my black choker still tight around my neck, my outfit shoved up, my body their shared toy.<br><br>The rough fu

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