Her Squirt Destroyed The Camera

The pink shirt was thin, almost see-through, as I waited on the white sheets in the dark room. I wore it with nothing underneath, my red hair falling around my face, sitting on the edge of the mattress when I heard the knock. When I opened the door to find them there—multiple shadows filling my doorway, all in dark shirts—I moved back and let them in without speaking.<br><br>They entered quiet, hands everywhere immediately, mouths on my throat and collarbone. I gasped when fingers pushed under my pink shirt, rough and urgent, finding how wet I was. Embarrassingly so. They knew. The pink fabric was pulled aside, my body exposed to their hungry eyes as they surrounded me on the white sheets.<br><br>I ended up on my stomach, face down in the pillow, ass up while one drove into me from behind. Another offered himself to my mouth, and I took him because I wanted to be full everywhere. They used me like that, passing me around, my pink shirt torn and twisted around my ribs, my body their sha

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