I phone part 2 (alternate ending)

Time blurred. How many had fucked me? Ten? Twenty? More? They didn't stop. One came inside my pussy. Hot cum filled me up. 'Take my cum, you breeding slut!' he laughed. Another pulled out and sprayed on my belly. Sticky and warm. Soon, they all started cumming. One after another. Cum everywhere. On my face, in my hair, down my chest. It dripped from my pussy and ass. I was covered. Layers of it. Thick and white. I couldn't open my eyes. It glued my eyelids shut. My mouth was full too. I spat some out, but more came. 'Look at the cum whore,' they mocked. 'Drowning in our jizz.' I lay there, shaking. Body used up. Every part hurt.

Suddenly, I heard noises outside the hostel. Shouts and footsteps. People from the street? Neighbors? The boys froze. 'Shit, cops?' one whispered. With all the power I had left, I stood up. My legs wobbled. Cum slid down my thighs. The boys stepped back. They looked scared now. I wiped the cum from around my eyes. It was sticky, hard to remove. Blinking, I stumbled to the balcony. The night air hit my naked skin. I leaned over the rail to see.

I was shocked. Down below, all our neighbors stood there. Men, women, even kids. And boys who came for my marriage proposal. They were from good families. Talking to my parents. Then I saw my father. He was crying. Tears on his face. He looked worried. They didn't know. They had no idea their daughter was the one screaming during the fucking. The orgy. . My heart broke. If they knew, what would happen?

The night air was thick with humiliation as I stood on the balcony of the boys' hostel, my body trembling and exposed to the world below. Cum dripped down my thighs, sticky and warm, a cruel reminder of the assault that had just torn through me. The boys inside had taken turns, their hands rough, cocks thrusting into me without mercy—fucking my pussy raw, forcing me to swallow their loads, slapping my ass until it burned. I'd screamed, begged, but the noise only drew more of them, turning my violation into a spectacle. Now, the crowd had gathered outside, faces upturned, including my parents, their expressions shattered as they watched their daughter defiled.

My feet slipped on the slick balcony floor, the residue of their seed making everything treacherous. I tumbled over the edge, heart pounding in terror, expecting the hard pavement to shatter me. But luck—or fate—intervened; I landed on a patch of soft grass below, the impact jarring but not breaking. I lay there for a moment, gasping, my naked body sprawled out, breasts heaving, pussy still leaking cum onto the ground. The crowd gasped, then murmured, phones flashing as they captured every inch of my vulnerability.

My parents pushed forward, my mother's sobs cutting through the night, but the sea of bodies held them back. Neighbors' boys leered, their eyes raking over my curves, smirks playing on their lips as they enjoyed the free show. Even an uncle from down the street ogled shamelessly, his gaze lingering on the cum-streaked mess between my legs. No one moved to help. They just stared, whispering, laughing in pockets of cruelty.

Then, a figure broke through the throng. Tall, commanding, with sharp features and an air of unyielding authority, he shrugged off his tailored coat and draped it over me. The fabric was warm, smelling of expensive cologne and faint cigar smoke. 'Cover up,' he said softly, his voice steady amid the chaos. He pulled me to my feet, one arm firm around my waist, shielding me from prying eyes. His bodyguards—two burly men in dark suits—cleared the path to his sleek black car, barking orders that scattered the gawkers like leaves in the wind.

I clung to him as he guided me into the backseat, the door slamming shut on the nightmare outside. 'You're safe now,' he murmured, his hand gentle on my shoulder. The car sped away, and only then did I let the tears come, hot and unrelenting.

At the hospital, nurses whisked me into a private room. They cleaned me up methodically—wiping away the cum from my skin, checking for injuries. My pussy ached, bruised from the relentless pounding, but nothing was torn beyond repair. As the doctor examined me, I learned his name: Vin. He waited outside, speaking in low tones to the staff, ensuring I had the best care. An international lawyer, he handled high-stakes cases, including those tangled with mafia syndicates—dangerous work that explained the bodyguards.

My parents arrived soon after, bursting into the room with wide-eyed relief. My father enveloped me in a hug, his voice cracking. 'Nida, thank God you're alright.' My mother stroked my hair, tears streaming. They knew what had happened—the whispers had reached them before they even arrived. But they didn't pry, didn't demand details of the incident, the way those boys had pinned me down, cocks slamming into me one after another, filling me until I overflowed. Instead, they offered quiet strength, holding my hands, promising we'd get through it together.

Once the physical evidence was tended to—the cum fully removed, my body swabbed and bandaged—Vin entered to check on me. It was the first time he'd seen my face clearly, unmarred by the grime of the ordeal. Our eyes met, and for a moment, he froze. His dark gaze softened, tracing the curve of my cheek, the fullness of my lips, the way my hair fell in disheveled waves. I felt exposed again, but not in shame—this was something warmer, like recognition. He blinked, clearing his throat. 'You look... stronger than you know,' he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

The days in the hospital blurred into a haze of recovery. Five, maybe eight—I lost count. The physical wounds healed, but the emotional ones festered. How could I go home? Face the neighbors' stares, the pitying glances, the rumors that would cling like the cum had? Vin noticed. He visited daily, bringing flowers or books, chatting about his cases without delving into mine. 'You don't have to rush back,' he said one afternoon, sitting by my bed. 'If you need a place to regroup, my house is quiet. No pressure.'

I hesitated, but the idea of his sanctuary appealed. When discharge came, my parents helped pack my things, though worry etched their faces. 'Who will marry you now?' my mother fretted in the car on the way to Vin's. 'After... this.'

I squeezed her hand. 'Mom, stop. I don't need a husband to live. I can take care of myself. Focus on healing, not weddings.' They nodded reluctantly, but I saw the fear in their eyes—the cultural weight of a 'ruined' daughter.

Vin's home was a revelation: a modern villa on the city's edge, all clean lines and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking manicured gardens. He showed me to a guest room, soft and inviting, then insisted on cooking dinner. 'Can't have you starving on hospital slop,' he teased, his eyes twinkling.

In the kitchen, he moved with surprising ease for a man who wrangled mobsters in court. He chopped vegetables, stirred a pot of creamy pasta, and set the table with candles flickering in the dim light. We ate by candlelight, the flames dancing shadows across his face. He cracked jokes about his latest case—a mafia don who tripped over his own shoelaces during testimony—making me laugh for the first time in days. 'See? Even the toughest guys have their slip-ups,' he said, winking. His humor was light, disarming, pulling me from the darkness.

As we talked, vulnerability crept in. I shared fragments of the assault—not the graphic thrusts or the pain, but the betrayal, the exposure. He listened without judgment, his hand covering mine. 'You're not defined by what they did,' he said softly. 'You're Nida—the woman who survived.' In that moment, tenderness bloomed, his thumb tracing circles on my skin, sending a shiver through me that wasn't fear.

Vin had to leave for work the next week—a trial in another city. 'I'll be back soon,' he promised, pressing a kiss to my forehead. 'Call me anytime.' And I did. Our phone calls started practical—updates on my day, his caseload—but evolved into something deeper. We'd talk late into the night, his voice a soothing rumble through the speaker. He'd describe sunsets from his hotel window, I'd recount walks in his garden. Laughter mingled with confessions: my dreams of studying art, his regrets from a lonely childhood. We didn't name it, but love snuck in quietly, like dawn after a storm.

One evening, as summer faded, Vin returned unannounced. I'd been sketching in the living room, lost in charcoal lines, when the door opened. He stood there, travel-worn but smiling, a bottle of wine in hand. 'Miss me?' he asked, pulling me into an embrace. His arms felt like home, solid and warm.

We shared the wine on the patio, the air cooling as stars pricked the sky. The full moon hung low, bathing everything in silver light—a peaceful weather, silence wrapping around us like a blanket. He set his glass down, suddenly serious. Dropping to one knee, he pulled a small box from his pocket. Inside gleamed a diamond ring, catching the moonlight in facets of fire.

'Nida,' he said, voice thick with emotion, 'from the moment I saw you on that grass, broken but unbroken, I knew you were the one. You've faced hell and come out shining. Marry me. Let me spend my life protecting you, loving you, making you laugh.'

Tears welled in my eyes, joy chasing away the shadows. 'Yes,' I whispered, extending my hand. He slid the ring on, then rose to kiss me—deep, passionate, his lips claiming mine with a hunger that promised forever.

My parents, when they met Vin officially, beamed with relief. No more worries about my future; he was the rescuer turned soulmate. Life wove forward—trials won, art classes started, nights of passion and quiet mornings. The hostel faded to a scar, overshadowed by our moonlit promise.

But romance wasn't without its sparks of humor. Vin once tried cooking again, burning the sauce spectacularly. 'Mafia bosses are easier to handle,' he laughed, as I salvaged dinner. We'd dance in the kitchen to old songs, his hands on my hips, swaying until desire pulled us apart—and together again.

In Vin's arms, I found not just safety, but ecstasy. He'd pin me against the wall sometimes, playful dominance in his eyes, cock sliding into my ass with lube-slick ease, making me whimper in pleasure. Or I'd ride him on the couch, breasts bouncing as I ground down, taking control. Every encounter was emotional, a reaffirmation: he saw me, all of me, and loved without reservation.His words made my heart warm, pushing away the old fears. I nodded and leaned into his hand. He pulled me close, and our lips met in a slow kiss. His tongue touched mine gently, tasting like sweet wine. I let out a small sigh, my hands going up his chest to feel his heartbeat.

He stopped kissing my lips and moved to my neck, giving soft bites that made me shiver. 'Let me take off your dress,' he whispered. His fingers found the zip at my back and pulled it down bit by bit. The dress fell to the floor, leaving me in my lace bra and panties. He stepped back and looked at me—from my breasts to my waist, down to my legs. 'You are so beautiful,' he said, coming close again.

He kissed me once more, his hands on my face, then they went down to open my bra. It came off, and he held my breasts in his hands, his thumbs rubbing my nipples until they got hard. I made a small sound, pushing towards him as heat started in my stomach. Vin knelt down, his breath hot on my skin. He pulled my panties down my legs, and I stepped out of them, now completely naked in front of him.

He looked up at me with eyes full of want. 'Lie on the bed for me, my love.' The bed was big and soft, the sheets cool on my warm body as I lay down. Vin stood up and took off his shirt, showing his chest with some hair on it. Then he removed his trousers and underwear. His cock was hard and thick, a drop of pre-cum at the tip. I wanted to touch it, but he smiled and shook his head. 'Tonight is for you first.'

He got on the bed and lay over me, not heavy, just close. His knee pushed my legs apart a little. We kissed again, slow and deep, while his hand moved over my side, then cupped my breast and squeezed it softly. He pinched my nipple lightly, making me moan. 'I love hearing you,' he said against my mouth. Then he kissed down to my breast, taking the nipple in his mouth and sucking gently. His tongue went around it, and his fingers played with the other one.

Waves of pleasure went through me, and my pussy got wetter. I put my fingers in his hair, holding him as he sucked on both breasts until they felt good and tingly. He kissed lower, over my stomach, stopping to lick my belly button. I moved a bit, wanting more. Vin went between my legs, his shoulders making them open wider. He breathed in deep. 'You smell so good,' he said, then kissed my inner thigh softly.

His lips moved up slowly, kissing patterns on my skin. When he reached my pussy, he used his fingers to open my folds, showing my clit. He blew a soft breath on it, and I whimpered, my hips lifting. 'Vin... please.' He laughed a little, the sound making me feel good, and kissed my clit. First soft, then he licked along my slit, tasting my wetness. His tongue went around my entrance and back to my clit, flicking it.

It felt so nice, like soft waves building up. He sucked my clit into his mouth gently, making a humming sound that sent shivers through me. One hand held my thigh open, the other put two fingers inside my pussy, curling them to touch that special spot. He moved them in and out slowly, matching his tongue. My body loved it, my walls squeezing his fingers, wet sounds in the room.

'Yes, let it come,' he said, his voice muffled. His kind words and the way he licked made me climb higher. I moved against his mouth until the pleasure broke—my orgasm came soft and long, my pussy pulsing as I came on his tongue. He kept going until I shook, then kissed up my body. His lips were wet with me. 'So pretty,' he said, kissing me so I could taste myself.

I wrapped my legs around him, feeling his cock at my entrance, hot and ready. 'You okay?' he asked, looking in my eyes. I nodded. 'I want you in me.' He groaned and pushed in slow, his thick cock stretching my pussy nicely. We stayed still when he was all inside, our breaths mixing, heads touching.

He started moving, small thrusts first to let me get used to him. Each push sent sparks inside me, his cock rubbing my walls. I held his shoulders, nails pressing lightly as he went deeper, his hips moving in circles to touch my clit. 'You feel so good,' he whispered, kissing my neck. 'So tight and wet.'

We kept it slow, like a gentle dance. Vin lifted my leg over his hip, going deeper, hitting that spot every time. I moaned, moving with him, our bodies in rhythm. Sweat came on his skin, and I licked it from his neck, tasting him. He turned us so I was on top, still joined. 'Move on me, Nida,' he said, hands on my hips.

I put my hands on his chest and lifted up, feeling his cock almost out, then sat down, taking him deep. It felt powerful to control it—seeing his face change with pleasure, his eyes on where my pussy took his cock. I went faster, my breasts moving, but still soft, grinding to feel all of him. Vin's hands moved, one rubbing my clit, the other holding my ass. 'Yes... like that.' His voice was rough, hips coming up to meet me.

The feeling built again in my belly. I leaned down to kiss him, our tongues playing as I rode harder. His cock jumped inside me, close to coming. 'Come with me,' I said, and he did—pushing up hard as my pussy squeezed him, both of us shaking. He said my name loud, his cum shooting hot inside me, again and again, as I came too, everything blurring.

We fell together, his arms around me, his cock still in my pussy as we breathed heavy. He stroked my back, kissing my hair. 'I love you so much.' 'I love you too,' I said, getting closer. In his arms, everything felt right.

But we weren't done. After some time, as our hearts slowed, Vin's hands started moving again, drawing circles on my skin. 'One more?' he asked, sounding playful but sweet. I smiled, feeling him get hard inside me. This time we lay on our sides, his leg over mine as he thrust slow, his hand between us rubbing my clit softly.

We touched like old lovers—his mouth on my breast, sucking until I bent towards him; my fingers on his balls, making him breathe sharp. When we came again, it was quiet, just sighs, his cum adding to what was already there, warm and close.

As morning light came, we stayed tangled, talking soft about our future—marriage, trips, our home. Vin played with my ring, a sign of the softness he gave my life. That night in bed, our love was full of feeling, gentle touches healing me one by one.

Vin always made sure I felt safe. Even in bed, his eyes stayed on mine, his hands careful but sure. He would kiss every part of me, like worshipping, making me forget the bad times. Our bodies fit perfect, his cock filling me just right, not too fast, always with love. After we came, he held me tight, whispering sweet things in my ear, making me feel like the most special girl.

Sometimes, he would start by massaging my back, his strong hands working out the tension. Then he would turn me over, kissing from my toes up, spending time on my legs, my thighs, until he reached my pussy again. He licked slow, making me wet and ready, fingers joining to stretch me gently. When he entered, it was like coming home, his thrusts deep but unhurried, building that sweet pressure until we both let go together.

In that one night, everything we did in bed was about us connecting, heart to heart, body to body. No rush, just pure love and touch that made me whole again. Vin's care turned my pain into joy, and I knew our life would be full of such tender moments.

And those people who make my life miserable earlier
,never arrested and never faced any charges

Because vin took care of them in his own mafia-style way.