Who fucks me?

The blindfold was made of soft but thick black fabric. It didn't let any light pass through. He put it on me himself —or at least that's what I assumed— with slow, almost ceremonial movements, while whispering in my ear:

—Trust me. You won't know anything. And that's what you want, right?

I didn't answer. I just nodded, because my throat was dry and my heart was pounding against my ribs as if it wanted to escape.

He guided me to the bed. I heard the creaking of the mattress, the rustling of fabric when he took something off —his shirt, maybe—, the metallic sound of a belt falling to the floor. Then silence. A silence that weighed heavily.

I felt the first touch on my ankle. Cold fingers that slowly went up my calf, stopping just behind my knee. I shuddered. He didn't say anything. He just breathed, deeply, controlled.

Suddenly, two different hands. One on the back of my neck, holding my hair firmly but not pulling. The other pulling down my boxers with a quick, dry tug. They weren't the same hands. The size, the temperature, the way they gripped... different.

—Who...? —I started to ask.

—Shhh —a deep, unfamiliar voice cut me off, very close to my left ear—. No names. No faces. Just cock and hole. Got it?

I nodded again, faster.

They put me on my stomach. Someone spread my legs with their knees. I felt a cold stream of lubricant falling directly between my buttocks, sliding towards the center. Then a finger, thick, without delicacy, entering up to the second knuckle with a single thrust. I moaned against the sheet.

—Not so hard... —I murmured.

Another low laugh, this time from the other side of the bed.

—Too late for that, pretty boy.

The finger came out. Something bigger replaced it almost instantly: the blunt, hot head, pressing. It entered slowly at first, just the tip, enough for me to feel the thickness opening me up. Then, without warning, it pushed all the way in. A single, long, deep movement that took my breath away.

Damn.

It started fucking me with a steady rhythm, without haste but without pause. Each thrust made my cock rub against the sheet and release a little more pre-cum. I was soaking everything.

Then I noticed movement to my left. Another cock —longer, more curved— brushed against my lips. It didn't ask. It just pushed. I opened my mouth instinctively. It tasted like clean skin and a faint hint of sweat. It fucked my mouth with the same calmness that the other one fucked my ass: deep, without haste, until it hit the back of my throat and I had to swallow to avoid choking.

There were two of them. Only two, I think. But at some point, I lost count of the hands.

One pinched my nipples. Another grasped my hips with such force that it would surely leave marks. A thumb opened my hole even more while the cock kept going in and out. Then, without wa...