The white sports bra was already soaked with sweat when they came into the studio. I’d been stretching on the mat, wearing just the bra and black shorts, feeling the burn in my muscles. When I looked up, three of them were there—shadows in black shorts, smelling of the outside and something else I couldn't name. I didn't say anything. Just lay back on the mat and let them approach.<br><br>They were on me before I could think. Six hands, rough and urgent, pulling at the white fabric while mouths found my throat and the curve of my shoulder. I gasped when fingers pushed under my shorts, rough and insistent, finding how wet I already was. Embarrassingly so. One of them laughed against my neck, a low sound, while another tore the shorts aside like they were nothing.<br><br>I ended up on my stomach first, face down on the mat, ass up while one drove into me from behind. Another moved around, knelt near my head, and I took him in my mouth because I wanted to be full everywhere. A third set o

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