Ellie’s Filthy Truck Threesome Under the Moon

“Fucking do it,” I growled, pushing back.

He thrust, deep and steady, each stroke building a fire that licked up my spine. The night air kissed my bare skin, a sharp contrast to the heat of him, and I came again — harder, louder — clenching around him as he gripped my hips, bruising and perfect. Nate lounged against the hood, watching with that smug grin, loving how I unraveled.

“Your shot,” Ryan panted, pulling out. “Tear that ass up.”

I climbed out, sprawling across the hood, breasts pressed to the cold steel, legs spread just enough. “Now, Nate,” I demanded, voice raw.

“Don’t make her wait,” Ryan laughed, wiping sweat from his face. “She’s a goddamn animal — hungrier than I figured.”

“Clocked her at the bar,” Nate said, palming my ass before sliding in, slow and thick. “Made for this.”

I rocked back, taking him deeper, moans spilling out — sharp, wild, echoing through the trees. Ryan watched, eyes locked on where Nate buried himself, the sight fueling me as I moved, chasing every sensation, every shudder.

Then it clicked — they hadn’t used my mouth yet. I pushed up, tapped Ryan to the hood, and sank my lips around him, sucking hard as Nate kept going. The rhythm synced — Nate’s thrusts pushing me onto Ryan, his cock hitting the back of my throat. I gagged, drooled, loved every second of it, lost in the filthy perfection.

“Fuck, I’m done,” Nate groaned, hips jerking. “She’s sucking me dry.”

“Drown her,” Ryan urged, voice tight. “Let’s see it.”

They switched — Nate at my mouth, Ryan back in my ass. I licked Nate clean as he came, thick and hot, swallowing every drop while Ryan pounded me, chest flush to my back, lips brushing my ear. His hands gripped my ass, spreading me wider, and I whined, caught in the storm of them, every nerve alight.

“This what you wanted?” Nate rasped, spilling down my throat, eyes boring into mine.

“You tell me,” I gasped, licking him clean. “Your fantasy too?”

He just groaned, spent. Ryan spun me around, wild-eyed, shoving me to my knees. He yanked off the condom and thrust into my mouth, hands fisting my hair. “Suck it, you filthy bitch,” he snarled, fucking my face with a fury that left me reeling.

The woods closed in — us, the heat, the chaos. His words were fuel, stoking me higher, and I took it all. When he came, it was a flood — hot, bitter, choking me as I swallowed, his growls blending with the wind. The air smelled of pine and sweat, grounding me as my pulse thundered.

He stepped back, chest heaving, watching me lick my lips. “You’re a fucking menace,” he said, half-laughing, half-serious.

“Me?” I grinned, wiping my chin. “You hunted me down. I just wanted a drink — now I’m wrecked, dripping, and loving it.”

Nate laughed, rough and warm, kissing my neck. “You begged for this.”

He was right. I pulled him in, kissing him hard, tasting the night on his tongue. He matched me, hands roaming, the woods fading to a hum around us. The stars burned bright, the air cool against our slick skin, and we lingered — quiet, sated, wrapped in the aftermath.

Later, sprawled in bed, I thought of Cole. No shame — our deal’s wide open. I called him, voice soft, spilling every detail — the truck, the woods, the way I broke apart. He listened, grateful I shared, thrilled I’d burned so bright. That’s us — raw, honest, and always chasing the next high.

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