Free Executive Package by Cleo Peitsche

somehow managed to wrest a few body-shaking shudders out of her. When he pulled out, she was coughing and gasping, and her eyes watered.  
    She looked up at him while she caught her breath. Her Nordic god, tall, blond, flawless skin, broad cheekbones, confident and dominant and perfect.
    Cunningham nudged into her pussy, grabbed her thighs and slammed in deep. She gasped as his unrelenting maleness filled every inch of her slick, tight flesh.
    Jonathan turned her face toward Karl, and she tensed.
    “You’re going to make amends for your tardiness, correct?” Karl asked.
    She only had time to partially nod before Karl cupped her neck in his hands and drove into her. She panicked, remembering how it had been before, when she’d been choking and Karl hadn’t noticed. Nolan had saved her that night.
    But she didn’t need saving, she realized with a thrill of triumph. Her joy was short-lived, however, because Cunningham pulled out, and then he was inching his throbbing girth into her rear, not even giving her time to adjust.
    Karl began jackhammering into her mouth, stuffing her whimpers back down her throat, barely giving her enough time to breathe. The head of his cock hit a slightly different point with every jab. He wasn’t taking her past her limits, and she knew she was safe, that her bosses would never allow anyone to push her too far, but she reflexively fought against his body.
    Her struggle only turned him on further. “Oh, damn, yes. Your mouth sucks me so good, Elle. C’mon, baby, like that—”  
    Gustav shouldered him out of the way and took his place. Her nose pressed into his balls as he slowly penetrated her mouth and throat.  
    Cunningham fucked into her ass with long strokes. The way he pulled all the way out, then pumped back in, was sheer torture. Each time he was out, her poor ass clenched, but he continually renewed his onslaught.
    Only his warm, soothing hands, rubbing encouragingly up and down her thighs, kept her from panic.  
    “I want her pussy,” Jonathan said.
    There must have been some wordless signal from Cunningham, because the men slowly moved back. Still, the air was thick with their desire, almost heavy from the pent-up testosterone in the room.
    Cunningham pulled her up with a brawny arm around her back.
    Jonathan sat on the floor, his pants now down to his thighs, and held his cock straight up. Cunningham lifted her off the table and positioned her over Jonathan, reverse-cowgirl style, and Jonathan guided her onto his shaft.  
    It felt all weird, the curve of Jonathan’s cock stroking her in the wrong direction. He grabbed onto her thighs, holding her low on him, while Cunningham urged her forward until she was almost doggie style, her legs going out into a straddle.  
    Then Cunningham came behind her and slowly pushed into her ass.  
    They had never taken her like this before, and Elle was awash with new sensations. Everything seemed a bit funny, a bit different, and it made her feel strange and unsure of herself.
    Nolan, Gustav and Karl knelt in front of her, their three cocks at her lips. “I want you to lick us, Elle,” Gustav said, his accent caressing her ears. “Fast as you can, so that none of us feels left out.”
    She nodded, licked her lips, and got to work, running her tongue around the taut skin of their swollen dicks, getting them nice and wet. And she might have been able to make them come like that, too, if Cunningham hadn’t started driving into her with the force and subtlety of an ox. Suddenly she was being shoved forward, the wet cocks sliding stickily across her cheeks.
    Nolan roughly gripped a handful of her hair. “Just to hold you steady,” he said, his voice rich with teasingly false reassurance.  
    Like that, Jonathan and Cunningham were easily able to fuck her as boisterously as they wanted, and the men at her mouth were able to crowd in, pressing their swollen cocks greedily into her mouth while she lapped at them frantically.
    With each of