The Heart System

Chapter 954: C??C??H??A??P??T??E??E??E??R? 9??5??4?

Every head in the room turned. Kayla was on the couch, legs open, fingers still slowly working between her thighs as she watched. Jasmine and Tessa were on the floor, still panting and flushed from earlier. Minne and Nala shared the other couch; both of their pussies were shiny and leaking the loads I had left in them earlier.

Tessa let out a low, amused chuckle. "Oh boy. This is going to be fun."

Kim looked at me. "Hold her up for me, Evan."

I hooked my arms under Carrie’s thighs and lifted her off the table. Her soft body pressed against my chest, heavy tits flattening against me, arms looping weakly around my neck for balance. Her legs spread open around my hips. Kim stepped in close behind her, reached down, and guided the thick head of the strap-on to Carrie’s already-used asshole. At the same time I lined my cock back up with her pussy.

We pushed in together.

Carrie let out a long, broken moan as both holes were filled at once; my cock stretching her cunt, the strap-on forcing its way deep into her ass. The dual pressure made her entire body go tight in my arms. Kim didn’t give her time to adjust. She started thrusting hard and mean from the first stroke, hips snapping forward, the harness slapping against Carrie’s soft cheeks.

"You fucking whore," Kim snarled, voice low and venomous. "You never left me alone. Every time I went out with Tom you were right there, watching, judging, talking shit behind my back to anyone who would listen."

She drove the strap-on in harder, the thick toy burying itself to the base with every thrust. I matched her rhythm, fucking up into Carrie’s pussy while I held her open and suspended between us. The wet sounds of both holes being used filled the room.

"You made my life hell," Kim continued, not slowing down. "Spreading rumors. Making me feel like I wasn’t good enough for your precious son. And then you actually tried to fucking kidnap me. Like I was some problem you could just make disappear."

Carrie was moaning continuously now, the dual penetration forcing broken sounds out of her with every hard thrust. Her arms tightened around my neck. I could feel the strap-on moving inside her ass through the thin wall separating it from my cock, every time Kim bottomed out I felt the extra pressure and heat.

"Look at you now," Kim spat. "The great Carrie Beldenwary, getting her holes ruined by the same girl she tried to destroy. You’re nothing but a used-up cumdump bent over and filled like the desperate slut you always were underneath all that money."

She grabbed a handful of Carrie’s hair and yanked her head back so she was forced to look at the other women watching. I kept thrusting up into her, the tight, wet heat of her pussy gripping me while the strap-on pounded her ass without mercy.

"You don’t get to apologize with words," Kim said, voice shaking with leftover anger. "You apologize by taking this cock up your ass until you can’t think straight. By letting everyone in this room see exactly what you are."

Carrie’s moans climbed higher. Her body started trembling in my arms. The dual sensation, my cock stretching her cunt, the thick strap-on relentlessly fucking her already-sensitive asshole, was clearly pushing her past the edge. Kim felt it too and only fucked her harder, the wet slap of the harness against Carrie’s cheeks growing louder and faster.

"That’s it," Kim moaned. "Cum for me, you fucking bitch. Let everyone watch the mighty Carrie Beldenwary fall apart on two cocks like the worthless whore she is."

"NNNGGHH..."

Carrie broke.

A raw, choked cry tore out of her throat as the orgasm slammed through her. Her whole body shook violently in my arms, soft tits pressed tight against my chest, legs kicking weakly as the climax ripped through her.

Kim kept thrusting through every wave, forcing the orgasm to drag out longer, making sure Carrie felt every inch of the hate-fueled fucking while she came apart between us.

Only when the last tremor faded did Kim finally slow down, still buried deep, breathing hard against Carrie’s shoulder.

Something... something was weird.

It was... what?

Huh? My chest felt... strange.

Not a fist, not a body, something that felt like a hand, except there was nothing to see. It went straight through my chest. Through skin, through ribs, through whatever the hell was underneath, and it grabbed something deep inside and squeezed.

Then the whole world tilted sideways and folded in on itself, and the last thing I felt was that invisible grip letting go.

I stopped.

Just stopped. Like someone hit pause on me and forgot to hit play.

Then I blinked.

And opened my eyes.

And I was standing in my apartment. My old apartment. The one with the crooked doorframe and the water stain shaped like Florida on the ceiling and the radiator that clanked all night like it was trying to escape.

"Hmm..."

The smell hit me first. Old wood, cheap coffee, the faint sourness of a fridge that had been opened too many times. The floorboards groaned under my weight like they remembered me.

I didn’t know why, but something about it felt off. Like I’d been gone a long time. Longer than a night... shit, there was only half an hour for the shift. Had to hurry.

I grabbed my coat off the hook by the door, the brown one with the ripped liner, and pulled it on. Then I opened the door.

And there was Jasmine.

Right across the hall, in her doorway, kissing some guy. Her door was open wide and she was pressed up against the frame, one leg bent, hip cocked. Skimpy little shorts that barely counted as shorts and a tank top that left nothing to imagine. Her hands were in the guy’s hair and his hands were doing their own tour of the lower half of her body.

She didn’t even notice me.

I stood there for a second, watching. Then I closed my door behind me and turned the lock, real slow, so it clicked loud.

"God damn whore," I muttered under my breath, looking at Jasmine.

The guy was taller than me. Cleaner than me. Probably had a job that didn’t involve standing behind a counter all night.

I headed for the stairs. The stairwell smelled like cigarettes and damp carpet. My boots thudded on each step, echoing down the hollow shaft.

Then I pushed through the front door and stepped outside.