Widow vs. Wolves

Two seasoned wolves sat before me. Handsome, well-groomed, in black suits, dark ties, with stern expressions on their faces. Their entire appearance spoke of their deep sympathy, but also their inflexibility. In short, the epitome of politically correct friends who come to a funeral and then announce that the widow gets nothing according to the will. That is, they are going to throw me out on the street. I was not prepared for such a turn of events; too much had been swirling in my life lately.

Yuri and Evgeny… A year ago, I threw them out on the street. My husband, an even more seasoned old wolf than these two, gave them too much freedom and shared too large

a piece of the pie. I didn't like it, and gradually I convinced my husband that his so-called friends were more of a burden than a help. My body played no small part in the means of persuasion. Well, I had something to be proud of. Even now, playing the inconsolable widow, I looked so good that both males didn't miss a chance to caress my legs, exposed to the knees, with their gaze, or let their eyes slide into my deep cleavage.

I turned to the bar and took out a glass, feverishly thinking over the situation that had arisen. Undoubtedly, both males must have thoroughly appreciated my ass, sheathed like a second skin in a black skirt, my legs in fishnet stockings with slender ankles, elegant calves, tense from the high, thin heels. Their attention to such details would give me a few extra moments.

Back then, I underestimated these wolves; they seemed too young and inexperienced to compete on equal terms with my husband. Alas, I didn't notice for a long time that our corporation's affairs were getting worse and worse, and the reason for this was constant cruel, and often simply vile, raider attacks. Were they driven by revenge? A desire to prove they were written off without justification? Something like that. Otherwise, why would they throw so much money at it? The corporation is now in ruins and, frankly, is worth no more than its own office equipment. This is what drove my husband to suicide. He acted like a real man here too, by shooting himself. He didn't take poison, didn't throw himself off a bridge, didn't hang himself like weaklings do, no, he calmly and serenely put a bullet in his temple.

Unfortunately, he wasn't thinking about me. Well, my own fault. Due to the bad business, my husband apparently paid little attention to me, and my hot body demanded its own. The new fitness trainer… He did such things to my body that I exploded over and over again. Not a single thought about the consequences! Not a glance around when I flew to my lover in the Jaguar, feeling my panties getting wet, and then my skirt.

Retribution did not come. At least, I thought so until today. My husband once called me into his office and turned on the panel, clicked the mouse, and there I was on the huge screen. Sitting on a hard cock, with my legs thrown up, my breasts squeezed by tanned fingers. The quality was magnificent. You could see everything—the squeezed flesh bulging between the curled fingers, the powerful cock so tenderly embraced by my petals, and my face—the face of a female who had lost her mind, with an open mouth and wide-open eyes, in which little that was human remained.

My husband simply said to me: "Now go."

Maybe things could still have been fixed. But the cold truce and the still-continuing luxurious life made me lie low, not push things. I hoped that my husband would eventually not be able to resist the sight of my half-naked body every evening. Sometimes I got cold, but I "accidentally" left my ass uncovered when my husband returned very late… In the morning, the blanket often slipped off my chest… And it seemed my tactics were starting to bear fruit. At least once, my hand "accidentally" slipped under my husband's blanket and found terribly tense flesh. And my husband didn't push my hand away. Back then, I thought I still had plenty of time. I sighed sleepily and turned to the other side. My husband needed to ripen a bit more. He was supposed to take me, whispering apologies and declarations of love in my ear. Only then would I spread my legs for him, even though I was flowing like a bitch in heat that evening. In the morning, I even had to play with my vagina, otherwise it was simply hard to think. And who could have thought that just two days later I would become a widow?

I handed the bulbous glasses to the two wolves, who maintained a feigned sympathetic expression on their faces.

"Gentlemen!" I said, watching as two burning gazes detached from my breasts in the neckline of the black dress and rose to my face. "I want to offer you something."

Yuri dropped his mask for a moment, baring his teeth wolfishly and viciously:

"You have nothing, dear Victoria, that could interest us."

"That's not entirely true." I smiled enchantingly, then unzipped the side zipper and, shrugging my shoulders, let the black dress fall to the carpet. "I offer you my body."

The words came off my tongue quite naturally; I didn't even have to make an effort. Just as it was natural to appear before the men in lingerie—a black transparent bustier, matching shorts, black stockings, and black lace gloves. Everything was transparent—blood-red nails showed through the gloves, brown nipples showed through the thin lace fabric of the bustier, and the panties didn't quite hide the folds on my lower belly. No wonder I had examined myself in this form before the funeral, wondering if I had time to masturbate or not. The desire was violent and bubbling—after all, I hadn't had a man for a month. Then the phone rang inconveniently—the funeral Cadillac was waiting on the driveway.

Undoubtedly, my appearance, as well as the fact that I was unconditionally offering them my body, hooked the two men. They greedily devoured my body with their eyes. They were practically in my hands. Now, just don't ruin everything!

"Why do you need this? The corporation doesn't exist anymore anyway." Yuri looked at me suspiciously.

"My husband appointed me an annuity. It's quite enough for me. Both for myself and for maintaining this villa. You can take away the annuity, leaving me destitute, but you yourselves won't be able to use that money either; all the securities will go to a charitable foundation."

"By the way, we were planning to sell the villa," Evgeny remained colder, at least he wanted to show it, taking a deliberately casual sip of cognac.

"And why do you need that?" I raised an eyebrow to make my face look slightly mocking and dismissive. "You'll get mere pennies for it compared to your income. But you'll always have a place where you can relax peacefully. And with free female hot body."

"We can buy such female bodies in batches," Yuri smirked. "Besides, whores are probably more skilled."

"Firstly, whores will cost you something; my submissive body will be absolutely free." I licked my lips, trying to hide the tremor of temptation. It was so unusual to stand before two former friends in such a depraved state and persuade them to use me for free. Undoubtedly, both of them had always lusted after me, and only notions of friendship stopped them from making ambiguous offers. Notions and my coldness towards both. And now this Snow Queen stands before them half-naked and offers herself, calling things by their names, for money. "Secondly, visits to whores you'll have to carefully hide from your wives and paparazzi, but here you can come to console the grieving widow. How noble that looks in the eyes of the public! And no one will care exactly how you console the widow. Thirdly, how many men do whores go through? And I've only had one man in the last five years."

"Two!" Yuri corrected me and smiled smugly.

"The fitness trainer—your doing too?" I flared up.

"Yes," Evgeny nodded, looking calmly into my eyes. "Does that change anything in the current arrangements?"

"No," I obediently lowered my gaze. These wolves had me surrounded from all sides. "It doesn't change; it's even for the better, it means you know what I'm capable of. That's precisely fourthly: your women bought for money just do their job, but I will give myself to you with passion."

"Here!" I approached the men and, pulling the lace panties down to my crotch, took Evgeny's hand and shoved it between my legs. A sensual wave passed through my body when the male fingers touched my thoroughly moistened and swollen petals. How quickly the veneer of the high-society lioness fell off me, how I enjoyed the hand of a man who had practically destroyed my life! Despite all my excitement, I clearly noticed confusion in the man's eyes.

Smirking inwardly at the small victory, I did the same with Yuri's hand. Unlike Evgeny, he squeezed my lips without embarrassment. I almost howled in pain but didn't dare even pull away. I endured until he looked at me triumphantly and released my painfully throbbing petals. A smirk bloomed inside me again: darling, you're ready too!

"I still don't understand," this was Evgeny. He held his hand, soiled with my juices, slightly away so as not to stain his trousers. This wolf cub had already agreed too, at any rate, his second head was thinking for him now—look how his pants are bulging—"why do we need one half-whore when we can have two, three, four whores each?"

"Look at it from another angle," I purred insinuatingly, pleased with my almost victory.

Kneeling before the men so that my breasts rested on their knees, I felt with satisfaction how these males vibrated.

Without haste, I licked Evgeny's and Yuri's hands alternately.

"You are the victors. You have just brought down a serious opponent, conquering and destroying his fortresses. And now, over his still-warm corpse, you will take another prize—his woman. I am your trophy, a symbol of your final victory."

The men exchanged glances, and Yuri took me by the hair, forcing my head back. I obediently arched, pointing the tips of my breasts toward the ceiling.

"I like it!" Yuri smirked, and Evgeny added with the same smirk:

"Hasn't anyone told you you should write stories?"

"I don't know, I don't know… It seems you require completely different talents from me right now." I cast a meaningful glance at the bulge in his trousers.

"Well then, suck!" Evgeny ordered calmly.

For a moment, I was visited by fear that the wolves would simply fuck me in all holes and then take everything away anyway. However, a lot now depended on me.

Evgeny didn't even attempt to unzip his fly, so I, suppressing my pride, unzipped it myself and pulled out a hard, thick cock. My heart beat like crazy, my consciousness began to fog, flowing as hot moisture between my thighs. The trembling cock before my face beckoned with its naked power and magnificence. Almost groaning, I leaned forward and took the crimson head into my mouth. My eyes closed in pleasure, and my lips, formed into a tight ring, slid to the base. My fingers began to fondle his balls, feeling the delightful fuzziness even through the lace gloves.

A heavy hand descended on the back of my head, impaling my head on the cock all the way to my throat. I dared not resist, obediently swallowing the head deep, deep, as the man wanted.

"Good," I heard Evgeny's voice with a distinct hoarseness; the suckings, the loving touches of his cock with my tongue were not in vain. "I think we'll do as you wish. But, as soon as we don't like something…"

"For example, if we decide you're not wet enough to receive us…" Yuri chimed in. His voice was trembling too.

"… then you immediately lose everything."

I pulled out the cock and, bending down, ran my tongue from the base to the tip, while looking devotedly into Evgeny's eyes.

"Only you have the right to possess your prey!" I whispered languidly, feeling a fire growing from sparks between my thighs.

Then my mouth was impaled again on the hard, ribbed cock, and my head got to work. I grabbed the cock with my hand, jerking it off, sometimes running over the shaft wet with saliva and lubricant, feeling the bulging veins, knowing that the man liked how the slightly rough fabric of the glove slid over his flesh.

Only one thing was bad—no one was attending to my pussy. I desperately wanted to slip my free hand into my panties. But then they started to be torn off.

"Spread your legs wider!" I heard Yuri's voice from somewhere behind and obediently spread my knees. The panties, having turned from shorts into a narrow twisted rope, dug painfully into my thighs, but I no longer paid attention to it: firstly, the male positioning himself behind shouldn't have to wait; secondly, I myself couldn't wait anymore to get something into my burning, flowing depths.

And Yuri, with one thrust, overcame the timid resistance of my tight entrance and invaded me to the full depth at once. I growled, unable to restrain myself. I arched until my back cracked, Evgeny's cock slipped out of my lips with a wet smack, and a silvery thread stretched from it to my lips. For some time, Yuri delivered strong thrusts, and I couldn't think at all, concentrating on the sensations from the cock that was disposing of me like a master. I wasn't allowed to shirk my duties for long. A male hand lay on the back of my head, and I had to urgently open my mouth before Evgeny's vibrating cock.

Yuri slapped my ass hard.

"Now do it yourself!"

From the slap, my entire ass vibrated, responding with indescribable sensations in my vagina, stretched by the steel cock.

Then Evgeny hastily undressed, and the males turned me around. Evgeny made me sit on his cock, which pierced me to the very throat, and Yuri immediately moved closer, presenting his weapon. I leaned on Evgeny's knees with my hands in black patterned gloves, leaned forward a little, and obligingly opened my lips so Yuri could take me in his mouth whenever he wanted. But he didn't want a blowjob; he simply took my head and started fucking my mouth. All I could do was diligently form a ring with my lips and press my tongue against the cock moving in my mouth.

Evgeny, while I was being fucked in the mouth, at first only moved inside my vagina. Even then, I lost the last shreds of reason. My being could only exist like this—torn apart by two males from both ends. But when Evgeny started lifting me with his hips, each time driving his cock to some unattainable depth, I simply screamed. The first time, perhaps even plaintively. And when he started catching my body as it fell after his thrust, I thought—that's it, I'm fucked, now his cock will pierce all my insides. I really felt like the cocks were about to bump heads inside me…

I think I came two or three times. Moreover, the last one just kept going and going,

making me writhe and squirm between the two cocks. All civilization had fallen away from me; I was a machine for two males, bringing me such bliss that my consciousness simply began to fade.

Fortunately, Yuri brought me back to life. Through the semi-madness, I heard his shout:

"Don't spill! Swallow it all!"

It turned out he had started to cum, and now his semen was flowing from my mouth, still formed into a ring, onto the carpet, onto his feet. I hastily began to swallow the thick semen, then stuck out my tongue and licked up the semen, which was flowing down the shaft with dying spurts. For a couple of moments, I waited for new juicy drops to appear from the hole, then licked them up too.

Before I could finish, Evgeny abruptly pulled me off his cock. I understandingly threw myself to my knees before him and obediently opened my lips, into which a new portion of semen immediately shot. And there was a lot of it. The