Choosing anal doesn't prove to be the surefire win you'd hoped for when Sam doesn't co-operate

"You can't... I'm not going to..." you protest, breathing harder than you should as Sam continues to fondle you. Somehow you seem to have gotten all worked up, though your conscious mind vehemently denies that it was enjoying the constant attention and occasional gropes.

"Of course you will. Just feel how wet your cunt is, how hard your nipples are," Sam said, spearing the first with his fingers while tugging on the other. A moan escapes you as your body betrays you, making you squirm under his attentions.

'Maybe this isn't so bad,' a voice says within.

"Damn, I think she's gonna cum on her own," Tom snickers. Bill, too busy gasping for breath as he clears the top of the stairs, doesn't comment.

"Maybe. Then we all get a go," Sam chortles.

"No..." you groan.

"No? You have just one choice here, babe. One, two, or three dicks..."

Gulping down air as your chest heaves more and more you eye the two boys with the dresser. Tom, facing you from the front of the slow-moving duo, looks you in the eye and lewdly humps the piece of furniture while licking his lips.

Your breath hitches a little, your pulse speeding up, and you tell yourself that it's for a bet as you mutter, "Asshole."

"Oh, she thinks you're an asshole, Tom!" Sam reports.

"Aw, I'm hurt princess."

"Fuck my ass," you correct, saying it quietly, feeling shameful and excited as you make the request.

Instantly Tom brightens, pulling his hand from your breast as he unzips. In a moment you feel the head of his dick at your backside.

"Wait, you haven't lubed up!" you remind him.

"Hey Sam," Tom calls, and Sam looks up.

"What?"

"Remember how you owe me twenty bucks?"

"Uh, yeah? So?"

"So don't fuck her and you won't."

Sam looks between you and Tom, and to your astonishment actually seems to be considering it.

"You're not... You can have my ass!" you remind him.

He shrugs, nods to Tom, and calls back, "Deal."

"What?!" you exclaim, stunned. It quickly gives way to anger as you swivel, staring up at him. "You'd trade the chance to fuck me. In the ass. For a measly twenty bucks?"

"Sure," he shrugs. "I don't have twenty on me."

"B-but, you won't get to fuck me."

"Yeah, well, I'll live. I can get another girl somewhere else. A cunt's a cunt, or in this case an ass is an ass," he grins, swipping one hand down hard onto a buttcheek.

"You... you asshole!" you snarl, infuriated and humiliated, and seeing Tom mockingly dancing in front of the dresser as Bill labors on the other end you make up your mind. No way is Tom getting you, no way is Sam getting way with his twenty.

"You ARE going to fuck me," you tell Sam, and although it's awkward you manage to twist your feet around his torso, pushing yourself up until you can get a hand on the lip of the top step. Your grip on him isn't exactly that of a python, but it doesn't have to be.

"Now I'm gonna start pushing back on you, you bastard. You have a choice. Fall down the stairs or try to hang on. Either way I'm fucking YOU."

"What...?" Sam stares down at you, and Tom stops in his tracks until Bill, clueless to what's been going on, stumbles into him.

Reaching back to line him up with your rectum, deciding that it's your best chance at victory, you hold his long slim dick in place and push back.

"Hey, whoah!" Sam cries out, teetering on the edge of the stairs before he manages to grab onto your hips. Gritting your teeth you shove backward, impaling his dick into your ass with only a mostly dried layer of sweat to ease his entry.

"Oh, fuck!" he exclaims, making you smile. Now he sees how good it feels you think, at least until he says, "You nearly knocked me down the stairs, you crazy bitch!"

"Fuck me!" you insist, but he just clamps onto your hips and then the tops of the stairs as you toss yourself back at him in a frenzy, jabbing yourself onto him repeatedly. In and out he goes, dry skin upon dry skin building friction as you desperately try to milk him dry.

"Stop standing around and move, man!" Tom yells at Bill, who's folded over the top of the dresser wheezing for breath. Tom smacks the dresser in front of him and then Bill's shoulder, making the tubby man straighten with a groan.

"Did I mention I have a bad back?" Bill says weakly. Tom snarls and pulls him to the front of the dresser then picks up the back.

"Lift and move or I'll push it over you like a steamroller," he threatens. Bill regains some life as he stumbles backward, trying desperately to stay ahead of Tom.

It's a battle of frenzied warriors, one pushing an empty dresser down a hall, the other pushing an empty asshole down a cock. It seems like such a no-brainer, but as you move faster and faster your eyes go wider and wider as Tom approaches his target.

Sam, gritting his teeth behind you, tries to resist your thrusts backwards, but you wriggle and escape his hands, pushing your reddened rectum onto his slim dick, trying your best to clench your muscles upon him in spite of their protests.

It's a noble, difficult effort, but in the end...

"Yes!" Tom crows, passing the finish line.

A groan escapes you, and your head drops to the top of the stairs.

"I'm gonna fuck the bitch. Fuck the bitch. I'm gonna fuck the bitch. Up." Tom taunts, doing a booty-shaking dance that could easily be mistaken for an epileptic fit.

"Well, I guess I can fuck you now," Sam says, and jams himself full length into your raw ass.

In spite of your curses and the resistance now coming from you he fucks you with abandon, rotating his hips as he pushes and pulls, smacking your ass a few times before grabbing your hips and even pinching your clit.

"Fucker," you growl back at him.

"I sure will," he grins back, a grin that turns into a foolish looking face of orgasmic delight as he unloads the contents of his balls. Just like you wanted him too, but more than thirty seconds too late to help.

"We are gonna get it on!" you hear Tom crowing in the apartment ahead as Sam wipes his cock in your hair before you can think about where its been. He drags you to your feet, stepping quickly away but leading you by the arm toward your destiny.