A few days later, I was barely holding it together.
The shop was on a closing shift—just me, Shane, Dax, and Hank. Ray had left hours ago, and the rest of the crew had clocked out by six. It was just the four of us in the empty bay, the overhead fluorescents casting harsh shadows across the concrete floor, the air thick and stifling with late summer heat.
And the sexual tension was suffocating.
All day, they'd been circling me like wolves. Touching me. Cornering me. Making it impossible to focus on anything except the ache in my cock and the way my massive pecs felt swollen and heavy under my coveralls.
It started that morning when Shane pulled me behind a lifted F-250, his hand immediately going to my ass, squeezing hard through the fabric of my coveralls. He kissed me deep and possessive, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth while his other hand groped my chest roughly.
"Fuck, pretty boy," he breathed against my lips, his fingers finding my nipple through the fabric and pinching hard. "You're killing me today. Look at these tits."
I whimpered into his mouth, already half-hard, and he grinned.
"Tonight," he whispered. "After closing."
Then he walked away like nothing had happened, leaving me trembling and leaking into my jockstrap.
An hour later, Dax cornered me in the parts room. The door was barely cracked, mechanics walking past just feet away, but he didn't care. He pinned me against the metal shelving, his thick body pressing into mine, and his rough hands immediately went to my chest.
"Fuck, look at these," he growled, groping my pecs hard through my coveralls. He squeezed and lifted them, testing their weight, then slapped the underside of one so it bounced heavily. "You been working out extra, boy? These tits are fucking huge."
"Y-yeah," I stammered, my face burning. "Every day—"
"Good." He pinched both my nipples hard through the fabric, making me gasp. "Keep making them bigger. I want these tits so fucking fat they can't fit in your coveralls anymore."
He leaned in close, his beard scratching my cheek, his breath hot against my ear. "You're mine tonight. You understand? Mine to use however I want."
Then he walked out, leaving me panting and dizzy.
By mid-afternoon, even Hank was getting in on it. He was supposed to be helping me replace a transmission on an old Dodge Ram, but he kept finding excuses to touch me. Guiding my hands on the wrench. Adjusting my stance. Praising my work in that deep, rumbling voice that made my knees weak.
"Good job," he said, his massive hand resting on my shoulder. Then it slid down, brushing across my chest, his palm pressing against my pec muscle through the coveralls. "You're getting real strong. Real solid."
His hand lingered, squeezing gently, and I felt my nipple harden under his touch.
"Thank you, sir," I whispered, barely able to breathe.
He smiled—that knowing smile—and patted my chest twice before walking away.
By the time closing came around, I was a fucking mess. My cock had been half-hard all day, leaking constantly into my jockstrap. My pecs felt swollen and sensitive, my nipples rubbing against the rough fabric of my coveralls with every movement. I could barely think straight.
The shop was locked tight. The bay doors were down. The overhead fluorescents buzzed softly in the quiet.
And all three of them were staring at me.
Shane leaned against a workbench, arms crossed, his coveralls unzipped halfway down his chest. Dax stood near the tool rack, his thick arms folded, his jaw tight. Hank was by the parts counter, calm and controlled, but his eyes were dark with hunger.
I stood in the center of the bay, my heart pounding, my whole body trembling with anticipation.
"Strip," Dax said, his voice rough and commanding.
I didn't hesitate. My hands went to the zipper of my coveralls, and I pulled it down slowly—all the way down to my waist. The fabric fell open, revealing my bare chest underneath. No shirt. Just smooth, hairless skin stretched tight over massive, pumped pec muscles.
I shrugged the coveralls off my shoulders, letting them slide down my arms, my hips, my thighs. They pooled at my ankles, and I stepped out of them completely.
I stood there in just my tight white jockstrap, my massive pecs on full display.
They were huge. Bigger than they'd ever been. Heavy and round, perfectly sculpted with thick plush padding on top over dense muscle underneath. My deep cleavage glistened with sweat under the harsh lights, and my puffy pink nipples were already hard and swollen, pointing slightly upward.
All three men groaned.
"Fuck," Shane breathed. "Look at you, baby."
They moved toward me slowly, forming a circle around me. They didn't touch yet—just looked. Admiring. Hungry.
I felt like prey.
Hank reached over to the work counter and grabbed a bottle of thick massage oil—the kind we used for loosening rusted bolts. He held it up, his eyes locked on mine, and squeezed.
The oil cascaded over my chest in thick, glossy rivulets. Cold against my warm skin. I gasped as it dripped down my cleavage, pooling in the valley between my pecs, running down my abs.
"Fuck," I whimpered. "That's cold—"
"Shh," Hank said softly. "Just relax. Let us take care of you."
Shane stepped forward first. His massive hands spread the oil across my entire chest, his calloused palms gliding over the slick, shiny surface. He worked slowly, deliberately, coating every inch of my pecs until they were glistening and slippery.
"God, you're so fucking beautiful, baby," Shane murmured, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. I whimpered, my knees going weak. "Look at these perfect tits."
He cupped both of my pecs, lifting them, testing their weight. His fingers sank into the soft plush padding, molding it around his hands while the firm muscle underneath resisted. He squeezed and kneaded, his eyes locked on mine, and I could see the hunger in them.
"So soft," he breathed. "So fucking perfect."
Dax stepped in next, rougher. His thick hands gripped my pecs hard, squeezing so the soft padding bulged between his fingers. He lifted them and dropped them, watching them slap together wetly, jiggle, ripple like water.
"Fuck yeah," he grunted. "Look at that bounce."
He did it again, lifting and dropping, mesmerized by the way my tits moved. Then he leaned down and spat—a thick rope of saliva that landed right in my cleavage with a wet splat.
"Dax—" I gasped.
He spat again, and again, coating my chest in his spit until it mixed with the oil, creating a frothy, obscene mess. Then he pinched both my nipples hard, twisting them, and I squealed.
"That's it," he growled. "Let me hear you."
Hank stepped in last, his massive hands taking both my pecs at once. He lifted them gently, testing their weight, his expression almost reverent.
"Such a perfect boy," he said, his deep voice low and controlled. "Made for worship, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir," I whimpered.
His hands massaged slowly, deliberately, kneading the soft padding while maintaining eye contact with me. His thumbs traced circles around my puffy nipples, and I felt my cock throb hard in my jockstrap.
Then he leaned down and sucked one of my nipples into his mouth.
I nearly collapsed.
"Oh fuck!" I cried out, my hands flying to his shoulders to steady myself. "Oh god, Hank—"
He sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, and I was trembling all over. Shane and Dax moved in, their mouths finding my other nipple, my neck, my chest. All three of them worshipping me at once—kissing, sucking, licking, groping, squeezing, bouncing my oiled pecs.
I was moaning constantly, my hands hanging limp at my sides, completely overwhelmed. My eight-inch cock was rock hard and leaking into my jockstrap, soaking the white fabric until it was nearly transparent.
"Please," I whimpered. "Please, I need—"
"On your knees," Dax ordered.
I dropped immediately, my knees hitting the cold concrete floor. My massive oiled pec tits jiggled as I settled, and all three men groaned at the sight.
Dax stepped up first, unzipping his coveralls and shoving them down to his thighs. His massive cock sprang free—ten inches, thick and heavy, dripping pre-cum.
"Fuck, look at you," he muttered, stroking himself slowly. "On your knees with those big slutty tits all oiled up. You know what's about to happen, don't you?"
"Yes," I breathed. "Please—"
He positioned himself right at my chest, grabbed both my oiled pecs, and forced them together around his shaft.
"Fuck!" he groaned, his head falling back. "So fucking soft."
He started thrusting slow and deep, his thick cock sliding between my slick pecs. The fat mushroom head popped out the top of my cleavage on every upward stroke, dripping pre-cum onto my collarbone and chin.
The sounds were obscene—wet, sloppy, schlick-schlick-schlick—oil and pre-cum mixing, making everything frothy and shiny. My tits bounced and rippled with each thrust, the soft padding jiggling while the firm muscle underneath flexed.
"Oh fuck," Dax panted. "Your tits feel so fucking good. So soft and tight at the same time."
Behind him, Hank stepped forward. He unzipped his coveralls and pulled out his massive 12-inch cock—thick, veiny, already dripping. He slapped it against my face—once, twice, three times—the heavy shaft smacking my cheeks, my forehead, my lips.
I moaned, my eyes crossing with pleasure.
"Open your mouth, boy," Hank commanded.
I obeyed, my tongue lolling out, and he fed me the fat head of his cock. I sucked eagerly, tasting his pre-cum, and he groaned.
"Good boy," he rumbled. "Such a good fucking boy."
Shane stood to the side, stroking his huge cock slowly, watching. Occasionally he'd lean down to kiss me deeply, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth around Hank's cock, or he'd pinch my nipples hard, making me squeal.
"You're so fucking beautiful, baby," Shane murmured against my lips. "Look at you. Taking Dax's cock between your tits and Hank's cock in your mouth. Such a perfect slut."
I whimpered around Hank's cock, completely gooned out. My brain was melting. All I could think about was pleasure—serving these men, making them feel good, being used.
Dax's thrusts got faster, harder. My tits were bouncing wildly now, slapping together wetly, and he was groaning with every stroke.
"Fuck, I could do this all night," he panted. "Fuck these perfect tits forever."
Then he pulled back, his cock slipping out from between my pecs with a wet pop.
"Shane's turn," he said, stepping aside.
Shane moved in immediately, his massive cock already dripping. He positioned himself at my chest, and I pushed my oiled pecs together for him, creating a tight, slick channel.
"Fuck, baby," Shane groaned as he slid between them. "You feel so good."
He fucked my tits slow and sensual, making eye contact with me the whole time. His strokes were deliberate, controlled, savoring every sensation.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered. "So perfect. I could look at you like this forever."
He leaned down and kissed me deeply, passionately, his tongue exploring my mouth while his cock slid between my tits. I moaned into the kiss, my whole body trembling.
Behind me, Dax moved around and slapped my oiled chest roughly—wet sounds echoing through the empty bay. Red handprints appeared briefly on my smooth skin before the oil smoothed them out.
"Such a good slut," Dax growled. "Taking Shane's cock so well."
Hank fed his massive cock back into my mouth, face-fucking me gently but firmly. His eyes never left my bouncing tits, watching them jiggle and ripple with Shane's thrusts.
"Look at those tits bounce," Hank rumbled. "Fucking beautiful."
Shane's thrusts got faster, and I could feel his cock throbbing between my pecs. But before he could cum, he pulled back, breathing hard.
"Hank's turn," he panted.
Hank stepped forward, his absolutely massive 12-inch cock in hand. He positioned himself at my chest, and when he slid between my oiled pecs, I gasped at the sheer size of him.
"Oh fuck," I whimpered. "You're so big—"
"I know," Hank said softly, his deep voice almost soothing. "But you can take it. You were made for this."
He fucked my tits slow and deliberately, savoring every stroke. His eyes were locked on my chest, watching his massive cock disappear between my pecs and emerge again, glistening with oil and pre-cum.
"Such a perfect boy," he murmured. "These tits were made for this. Made for worship. Made for cum."
While Hank fucked my tits, Shane took my mouth, his cock sliding past my lips.
Dax groped my sides, my waist, occasionally pinching my nipples or slapping my chest. All three of them using me at once, and I was completely broken—eyes unfocused, mouth hanging open, moaning and whimpering constantly.
My brain had shut off completely. There was nothing left except pure pleasure, pure sensation, pure submission.
I wasn't even touching my own cock, but it was leaking constantly, soaking through my jockstrap, dripping onto the concrete floor.
Finally, the men pulled back, breathing heavy. I was glistening with oil, pre-cum, sweat, and spit. My chest was red and swollen, my nipples puffy and sensitive.
Shane lifted me up by my arms, his hands gentle but firm. "Come on, pretty boy. Time for the real thing."
He sat on a nearby workbench, his massive cock standing straight up, dripping. He guided me onto his lap, positioning me to ride him reverse cowgirl style.
I sank down onto his thick shaft with a moan—so fucking full, so fucking stretched.
"Oh god," I whimpered. "Shane—"
"I got you, baby," he murmured, his hands gripping my hips. "Just relax. Let me take care of you."
Immediately, Dax stepped in front of me. He grabbed my oiled pecs and forced them together around his cock, fucking them hard and deep while I rode Shane.
"Fuck yeah," Dax grunted. "Ride that cock while I fuck these tits."
Hank moved to my side, feeding his massive cock into my mouth. I sucked eagerly, my tongue swirling around the fat head, and he groaned.
"Good boy," Hank rumbled. "Such a good fucking boy."
Shane grabbed my hips and guided me to ride, thrusting upward to meet each downward motion. My massive pec tits bounced wildly with the movement—slapping together, rippling, jiggling like water.
The sounds were obscene—wet, sloppy, the slap of flesh on flesh, our harsh breathing and moaning filling the empty bay.
"Unnngh!" I moaned around Hank's cock. "Fuck! Oh god!"
Oil dripped down my chest, mixing with pre-cum and sweat. Everything was shiny and slick and glistening under the fluorescent lights.
Shane's thick cock stretched me so wide, hitting that spot inside me over and over. Dax's cock slid between my bouncing tits, the friction making my nipples raw and sensitive. Hank's massive shaft filled my mouth, his pre-cum coating my tongue.
I was completely overwhelmed, completely wrecked, and I'd never felt so fucking good in my entire life.
Shane leaned forward, pulling Hank's cock out of my mouth momentarily. He kissed me deeply, passionately, his tongue exploring my mouth while his cock pounded into me.
"You're so fucking beautiful, baby," he whispered against my lips. "So perfect. I love watching you take all of us."
"I love it," I whimpered. "I love being yours. All of yours."
They established a rhythm—as Shane thrust up, Dax thrust into my tits. Hank face-fucked me in counter-rhythm. All three completely obsessed with me, completely focused on my pleasure.
Then Dax pulled me off Shane, spinning me around. He bent me over the workbench, my oiled chest pressing against the cold metal, and entered me hard and deep in one brutal thrust.
I screamed, my whole body convulsing at the sudden stretch.
"Fuck!" I cried out. "Dax, oh god—"
"Take it," he growled, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. "Take my cock like the slut you are."
He fucked me hard and fast, his hips snapping against my ass with wet slaps. My massive tits bounced and slapped against the workbench with each thrust, the metal cold against my sensitive nipples.
Shane got under me, lying on his back on the bench, and sucked my bouncing tits into his mouth. He alternated between them, sucking hard, his teeth grazing my puffy nipples, and I was sobbing with pleasure.
"Please!" I begged. "Please, don't stop—"
Hank fed his cock into my mouth again, face-fucking me while Dax pounded me from behind. I was completely filled, completely used, and it was perfect.
Dax leaned down, his chest pressing against my back, and grabbed my face roughly. He turned my head and kissed me—rough, sloppy, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth.
"You're mine," he growled against my lips. "All fucking mine. Say it."
"I'm yours," I whimpered. "All yours—"
"Good boy."
Then Hank pulled me off Dax, flipping me onto my back on the workbench. He spread my thighs wide and entered me deeply, his massive 12-inch cock stretching me impossibly wide.
"Oh fuck!" I screamed. "Hank, you're so big—"
He fucked me slow and deep, missionary style, and from this angle all three men could see my massive pec tits bouncing wildly with each thrust.
"Fuck, look at those tits," Shane breathed, stroking his cock. "Look at them bounce."
Dax moved to my side, rubbing his cock over my oiled, bouncing chest. Pre-cum dripped onto my skin, mixing with the oil and sweat.
"Such perfect tits," Dax muttered. "Fucking perfect."
Hank's thrusts got harder, deeper, and I was crying with pleasure, tears streaming down my face.
"Please!" I sobbed. "Please, daddy, fuck me harder—"
"That's it," Hank rumbled. "Call me daddy. Let me hear you."
"Daddy! Oh god, daddy, please—"
He pounded into me relentlessly, his massive cock hitting that spot inside me over and over. My tits were bouncing so hard they were almost hitting my chin, and all three men were groaning at the sight.
"Such a perfect boy," Hank said, his voice strained. "Such a perfect slut. These tits are absolutely incredible. Look at them bounce."
"Yes!" I cried. "Yes, daddy, I'm your slut—"
Shane sat on the bench beside my head, feeding his cock into my mouth. I sucked eagerly, my tongue swirling around the shaft, and he groaned.
"Fuck, baby," Shane panted. "You're so good at this. So fucking good."
I was completely gone now, lost in sensation. My brain had melted into pure pleasure. All I could think about was serving these men, making them feel good, being their perfect slut.
Finally, all three men pulled back, breathing heavy, completely primal. They positioned me on my back on the workbench, my massive oiled pec tits glistening and heaving with my breath.
Shane, Dax, and Hank surrounded me, standing over me, stroking their massive cocks. I lay there, gooned-out, my eyes half-rolled back, my mouth hanging open, waiting to be marked.
"You ready, baby?" Shane asked, his voice rough.
"Yes," I whimpered. "Please. Cover me. Mark me. Make me yours."
Shane went first. His whole body tensed, his jaw clenched, and he roared. Thick ropes of creamy cum exploded from his cock—one, two, three massive ropes that landed directly on my face and open mouth, coating my lips, my chin, dripping down my neck.
"Fuck!" Shane groaned. "Take it, baby. Take all of it."
Dax followed seconds later, his feral, animalistic growl filling the bay. His cum shot out in huge thick ropes, landing on my bouncing tits, splattering across the smooth oiled skin, dripping into my deep cleavage, running down my sides.
"Yes!" Dax roared. "Fucking take it, slut!"
Hank climaxed last, his deep rumbling groan echoing through the empty shop. His massive 12-inch cock pulsed and flooded me with thick, creamy cum—covering my tits, my face, my chest, everywhere. So much cum it was dripping and pooling on the workbench beneath me.
"Good boy," Hank rumbled. "Such a good fucking boy."
And then I came—completely untouched except for the cum landing on me. My eight-inch cock erupted, shooting thick ropes of my own cum across my abs and massive pec tits, adding to the obscene mess.
"Oh fuck!" I screamed. "Oh god, I'm cumming—"
All three men's cum mixed together on my perfect glistening chest—white, creamy, dripping, glistening under the fluorescent lights. My face was completely painted. My tits were drenched. I was covered head to toe in their cum and oil and sweat.
For a moment, there was just heavy breathing and the wet sounds of cum dripping onto the concrete floor.
Then Hank reached down, gently touching my cum-covered face. He tilted my chin up and kissed me deeply, tenderly, tasting his own cum mixed with mine.
"Such a perfect boy," he murmured against my lips.
Shane moved to my chest, leaning down to lick cum off my massive pec. He sucked my nipple gently, cleaning me with his tongue.
"So fucking beautiful, baby," Shane whispered.
Dax leaned down and kissed me roughly but not unkindly, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth.
"Mine," he growled. "All fucking mine. Got that?"
"Yes," I whispered, completely wrecked, floating in bliss. "All yours. All of yours."
The three men stood there for a moment, just admiring their work—me lying there cum-covered, glistening, completely satisfied. My massive smooth pec tits rose and fell with my breathing, covered in their cum.
I stared up at the three men towering over me, at the satisfaction in their faces, and felt completely, utterly owned.
I'd never been happier.