Your legs are pinned beneath the dresser.

"Wow, she's really making a lot of noise," Tom observes as you start mouthing off, pushing against Bill, who stands unyielding before you.

"Watch it," he says, pushing back, the end of the tent in his jeans penetrating you lips. "I might lose my grip. You okay on that end?" he calls to Sam.

"I could use something to keep it from sliding down," Sam calls back.

"On it," Tom says, rushing down the stairs, returning moments later. You feel a slight shifting of the desk and wince. "There, that should hold it. You can let go."

Reluctantly Bill lets go and with his hands pressing against his back, resulting in a slight pelvic thrust, he ever-so-slowly straightens with a hearty groan. His cockhead pushes your upper lip to your nose before the rest of the denim-covered dick similarly rasps upward. At last his balls pass your mouth, their fragrant aroma pressing against your nostrils before sliding up the bridge of your nose, your forehead, and then away.

As you gasp for breath Tom teases Bill, pointing at the large wet spot on his jeans.

"Damn dude, you cum in your pants or something?" he laughs, Sam joining in. Bill flushes, pointing at you.

"No, she had her mouth on my dick the entire time."

"No way, she was trying to suck you? Hell, I'll take some of the same!" Tom exclaims, reaching forward to tweak a nipple.

Your yelp seems to restore your vocal cords and you slap his hand away. "My legs," you manage to hoarsely say, pointing.

"Shit, would you look at that?" Sam points as well, and the three boys stare down at you.

Bill sums it up first. "Damn, this end of the dresser's pinning her lower legs to the stairs."