Underground Bay Confession

The ambulance siren isn’t even on. We’re parked in the underground bay of St. Mercy’s, the concrete walls sweating from the summer humidity, and I’m on the stretcher with my paramedic shirt unbuttoned to my belly, my pants kicked off somewhere near the defibrillator. My silky push-up bra is the only thing still doing its job, hoisting my firm little tits into these perfect pale mounds that I know you’re both staring at.

Bobby, you’re leaning against the supply cabinet, your dark skin gleaming under the fluorescent strip lights, and Peter, you’re crouched by the oxygen tank, both of you already naked. I don’t remember exactly when you stripped, but I do remember the exact moment I decided I didn’t care about hospital protocol anymore.

“You’re leaking again,” I say, pointing at Bobby’s cock.

It’s true. You’re both always leaking. Ten inches of uncircumcised dick apiece, thick as fuck, and the foreskins are long and loose, draping over the heads like silk hoods. Pre-cum is already beading at the tips, clear and slick, and I watch a thick drop slide down Bobby’s shaft and disappear into the dark curls at the base.

“Can’t help it,” Bobby says, and his voice is a low rumble that I feel in my chest. “You know how it gets around you.”

Peter laughs, and his cock bobs with the movement, slapping against his thigh. The sound is wet. It’s always wet. His foreskin is even longer than Bobby’s, and I can see the head peeking out, purple and shiny and huge, the size of a fucking plum. Veins rope around the shaft like cables, and they’re pulsing. I can see them pulsing from across the ambulance.

“Come here,” I whisper.

And you both move toward me, cocks leading the way, swaying heavy and hard, and the ambulance feels smaller suddenly, the air thick with the smell of latex and sweat and something muskier underneath. My pussy is already tingling, my bald little slit getting slick even though I know what’s coming. I’m a virgin. Technically. But my cunt has been dreaming about this since that night on the bus back from Montreal, Peter, when you sat next to me and I pretended to be asleep while you stroked yourself under your jacket.

Now I’m eight months pregnant, my belly round and tight, and my tits are swollen and sensitive, the nipples already darkening from pale pink to a deeper rose. They’re tiny, my nipples, but they get so purple and hard when I’m close to coming. I reach up and pinch one through the silky fabric of my bra, just to feel the jolt of it, and both of your cocks twitch in response.

“She’s playing with herself,” Peter says.

“I see that.”

I open my mouth. I don’t say anything. I just open my mouth and look up at you both, and that’s all the invitation you need.

Bobby gets there first, stepping up beside the stretcher and guiding his cock toward my lips. The foreskin is bunched up near the head, and I reach up and pull it back gently, exposing the shiny dome underneath. A thick glob of pre-cum immediately wells up from the slit and drips onto my tongue, salty and warm, and I moan.

“Fuck, Carole,” Bobby breathes.

I take him in. The head stretches my lips wide, and I feel the ridge of it scrape against my tongue, the smooth skin giving way to the textured shaft behind it. He’s so thick that my jaw aches immediately, a deep satisfying ache that makes my eyes water. I push forward, taking more, and the foreskin rolls back over the head as I go, then forward again as I pull back. It’s like a sleeve, that extra skin, and I love the way it moves, the way it traps the taste of him inside it.

Peter steps up on the other side, and now I’ve got two cocks in my face, both throbbing, both dripping, both aimed at my mouth. I pull off Bobby long enough to gasp, “Put it in,” and Peter doesn’t hesitate. He pushes his cock against my lips, still slick with Bobby’s pre-cum, and I open wider.

Both of them. At the same time.

It shouldn’t be possible. My mouth isn’t that big. But the heads are slick and the shafts are flexible despite their thickness, and I’m so fucking wet that my whole body feels like it’s melting. I stretch my lips around both crowns, and they slide in together, side by side, the foreskins rubbing against each other inside my mouth.

“Holy shit,” Peter grunts.

I can’t speak. I can barely breathe. My tongue is trapped between two throbbing cocks, and I can feel every pulse, every twitch, every vein pressing against the sensitive underside of my tongue. The foreskins are sliding back and forth with each tiny movement, and pre-cum is flooding my mouth, mixing with my spit until it’s dribbling out the corners of my lips and down my chin.

I pull back just enough to suck in air through my nose, and then I push forward again, taking them deeper. The heads hit the back of my throat, and I gag, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. The feeling of them throbbing against my tongue, the taste of them, the constant drip of semen sliding down my throat—it’s everything I’ve been craving since that night in your apartment, Peter, when I watched you jerk off while I pretended to be passed out on your couch.

“She’s drooling cum,” Bobby says, and he sounds awed.

He’s right. My mouth is overflowing. Every time they thrust, more semen spills out, running down my chin and dripping onto my tits. The silky bra is soaked now, transparent, and my nipples are hard little pebbles poking through the fabric. I reach down and pinch one, hard, and the pain shoots straight to my clit.

I pull off both cocks with a wet pop, gasping, strings of cum and spit connecting my lips to their shafts.

“I want you inside me,” I say. “Both of you. Now.”

Bobby looks at Peter. Peter looks at Bobby. Then they both look at my pussy, spread open on the stretcher, my legs hooked over the metal rails, my bald slit already glistening with my own wetness.

“You’re a virgin,” Peter says, and it’s not a question.

“Not for long.”

Bobby moves first, climbing onto the stretcher between my legs. His cock is drooling steadily now, a constant stream of clear fluid that splashes against my thigh. He positions the head at my entrance, and I feel the heat of it, the slickness of his foreskin bunched up behind the crown.

“Do it,” I whisper.

He pushes.

The pain is immediate and blinding. My pussy is so tight, so unused, and his cock is so fucking thick. I feel like I’m being split open, my inner walls stretching around an impossible intrusion. I scream, but it’s a scream that turns into a moan halfway through because the pre-cum is acting like lube, gallons of it, and the pain is already mixing with something else. Something deeper.

“More,” I gasp.

He pushes deeper, and I feel the foreskin roll back as he enters me, the extra skin catching on my rim before sliding inside. The veins on his shaft are throbbing against my inner walls, and I can feel every single one of them, every pulse, every twitch. My pussy is so full that I can’t imagine taking more, but then Peter is there, climbing onto the stretcher behind Bobby, and I realize what’s about to happen.

“Both of you,” I say again. “At the same time.”

It takes maneuvering. Bobby has to shift his weight, and Peter has to position himself carefully, but then the head of Peter’s cock is pressing against my already-stuffed entrance, and I’m screaming again as he pushes in alongside Bobby.

Two cocks. Inside my virgin pussy. At the same time.

The stretch is beyond anything I’ve ever felt. I’m being torn apart, remade, filled to bursting. My belly, already round with pregnancy, seems even fuller now, and I can feel the heads of their cocks pressing against my cervix, the foreskins rubbing against each other inside me, the constant flood of semen pooling in my womb.

“There’s so much cum,” I moan. “I can feel it. Filling me up.”

And I can. Every thrust pumps more out of them, and their cocks never stop leaking. Never. It’s a constant flow, a river of warm fluid flooding my insides, and my pussy is making obscene wet sounds as they move, squelching and slurping with every stroke.

Bobby leans down and captures my mouth in a kiss, and I taste my own spit mixed with their pre-cum on his lips. His tongue pushes inside, and I suck on it greedily, imagining it’s another cock, another thick shaft filling another hole.

“Tell us how it feels,” Peter grunts, his hips slamming against my thighs.

“It feels,” I gasp, “like being fucked by two fire hoses. Your foreskins are rubbing together inside me. I can feel them. Sliding. Stretching. The heads are so big. They’re hitting my cervix. Every time you thrust, more cum squirts out. My womb is overflowing. I’m going to be leaking for days.”

“Fuck,” Bobby groans.

“Your veins,” I continue, because I can’t stop now, the words spilling out of me like the semen spilling out of my pussy. “I can feel every vein. They’re throbbing. Pulsing. It’s like having two heartbeats inside my cunt. And the foreskins. God, I love the foreskins. The way they move. The way they trap the cum inside them. When you pull back, the skin rolls forward and catches all the semen, and then when you push in again, it all floods out at once.”

Peter’s rhythm is getting erratic. Bobby’s breathing is ragged. I can feel them both swelling even thicker inside me, the heads flaring, the veins bulging, and I know they’re close.

“Pull out,” I say suddenly.

They hesitate.

“Pull out and put your foreskins together.”

They do. They pull out of my aching, gaping pussy, and a flood of semen gushes out of me, splashing onto the stretcher. My hole is stretched wide, gaping open, and I can feel the cool air on my inner walls.

Bobby and Peter stand side by side, their cocks pointing at each other, and I reach up and grab both shafts. I pull Bobby’s foreskin forward, stretching it out, and then I pull Peter’s foreskin forward too, and I press the openings together.

“Now cum,” I say. “Cum into each other’s foreskins.”

They do. I feel the hot surge of semen flooding into the pocket of skin I’ve created, Bobby’s cum mixing with Peter’s, the foreskins ballooning outward with the volume of it. I hold them together, trapping the jizz inside, feeling the heat of it through the thin skin.

“That’s so much cum,” I whisper.

I lean forward and seal my mouth around the joined foreskins, sucking gently. The skin pulls back, and a torrent of hot semen floods my mouth, thick and salty and so much that I can’t swallow fast enough. It runs down my chin, down my neck, over my tits. I pinch my nipples through my soaked bra, rubbing the cum into my skin, smearing it everywhere.

I pull back, gasping, and look up at both of you with cum dripping from my lips.

“Now put them back in my mouth.”

You do. Both cocks slide back between my lips, still throbbing, still leaking, and I suck them clean, licking the last traces of semen from the foreskins, running my tongue around the ridges of the heads, dipping into the slits to taste the fresh pre-cum already welling up again.

My pussy is still gaping, still leaking, and I reach down and push two fingers inside myself, feeling the slick walls, the pool of semen still sloshing in my womb. I’m so full. So completely, utterly full.

“I love cum,” I say, pulling off your cocks long enough to speak. “I love the taste of it. The feel of it. The way it never stops. Your dicks are like fountains. I want to live under them. I want to drown in them.”

Bobby laughs, a low exhausted sound, and Peter pulls me up into a sitting position, his cum-slick hands cupping my face.

“You’re insatiable,” he says.

“You love it.”

“We do,” Bobby agrees.

The ambulance is a mess. The stretcher is soaked. My uniform is ruined. We’re going to have to do a lot of explaining to the shift supervisor.

But right now, with both of your cocks still throbbing against my cheeks, still dripping onto my tongue, I can’t bring myself to care. My pussy is full of cum, my mouth is full of cum, my tits are glazed with it, and I’ve never been happier.

“Same time tomorrow?” I ask.

Peter grins. Bobby nods.

“Same time tomorrow,” they say in unison.

And I lean back on the stretcher, spread my legs, and let the rest of the semen drip out of me onto the already-ruined sheets, already counting down the hours until I get to feel those foreskins sliding against my tongue again.