He sat down on the small bench. Without a word he pulled me to my knees in front of him. I'm not sure I can explain what was going through my mind rig...t then. I was still scared. I still didn't think I could satisfy all those men. But I wanted them to take me. I wanted them all to use me. I wanted to be raped over and over and over.I got my wish.It went on and on long past the time I could take it, or could enjoy it. I stopped having orgasms by the time the fourth or fifth man had raped me, if. I let the tongue swirl at the front of her pussy, only slowly letting it pass deeper between her legs, that now shivered slightly. She tasted really good, of sweet young girl juices. With an eager tongue I probed her pussy, till she moaned and her legs could hardly support her."Let's get to bed," she whispered and let go of my hair. "It'll be much more fun."I was more than willing to follow her suggestion and we were in her bedroom before you could say "fuck".She had a big bed. The bed sheets. Shit, this was naughty. I understood and acknowledged the ‘wherever, whenever’ rule some time ago, but the ‘wherever’ part tended to be in random rooms of his house. The ‘whenever’ part tended to be ‘whenever we were alone’.But here I was, crouching down with my back against a tree and his cock in my mouth. I’m not on my knees, as they’d be too scuffed up on the woodland floor. My soles are on the soil, my legs bent, and my head against the oak behind me.He was understanding enough to put his. He’s never lost a match because of this ‘pretzel’ hold he has. Whatever you do, do not let him get you in that hold! If he does, you’re finished.”Ole nodded in acknowledgment.As the match started, Ole and the Russian circled each other several times, looking for an opening. All of a sudden, the Russian lunged forward, grabbing Ole and wrapping him up in the dreaded pretzel hold. A sigh of disappointment arose from the crowd and the coach buried his face in his hands, for he knew all was lost.