The bass from the club still thumped in Lena’s ears, but the scene had shifted to Christina’s plush living room. Her head swam, vodka-cranberries blurring the edges. Marina and Christina, her divorced “friends,” giggled, their phones raised.

Three men, silver-haired and thick-bodied in their fifties, surrounded her. “Relax, Lenochka,” cooed Marina. “They’re just going to help you have fun.”

Lena, 26, tall and slim, slumped on the couch. Her small tits, perfect 2-size handfuls, strained against her silk top, her hard nipples poking visibly. A hand, rough and large, settled on her thigh. “Such a tight little thing,” rumbled one man, his fingers hiking up her skirt. Her modest ass was exposed in a thong.

“No, I’m married…” Lena slurred, but the protest died as another man leaned in, his mouth capturing hers, tongue thrusting deep. The third man, kneeling, yanked her top down. Her tits spilled out, pale with dark, stiff nipples. He latched onto one, sucking hard, his other hand pinching and twisting the other nub.

“Watch her pussy get wet for us,” Christina narrated, filming. The man at her crotch ripped the thong aside. His thick fingers dove into her slit. “Fuck, she’s dripping,” he grunted, working two digits inside her tight channel, the slick sounds obscene.

They laid her back on the rug. The first man, Boris, unbuckled his belt, freeing a heavy, veiny cock, already