She was just about to tell Brandon that it was okay when he looked longingly down at her hanging breasts and then up, a determined, lust-filled look crossing his face. Then there was movement beneath her and she felt his hand putting himself inside of her, giving her a glorious fullness.
“You’re still hard,” she said, his length slowly sliding up inside of her, making her exhale.
“I’m twenty,” he said, as if that explained everything.
“You’re still so hard,” she repeated, the words in themselves turning her on. And he was. All that need was evaporating as he filled her, the head of his cock rubbing the walls of her swollen, pulsing tunnel.
“I can’t believe I’m inside you,” he said, already picking up pace. She could still feel his cum on her back, running down onto her ass. She didn’t care. It should be gross, but with him inside of her, filling her, sliding into the pussy between her spread legs, it was hot. Hot. Hot.
“I think I’m going to cum again already,” she said, surprised.
“I want to see it,” he said.
“I am. I’m going to cum again. I can’t believe it. I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum. I’m going to…!”
But at that point, she lost the ability to speak. He watched her, watched her eyes, watched her mouth as it opened, and for a second she was gone as another orgasm shook her, the warmth under her contrasting with the cooling of the evaporating seed still on her back. But he wasn’t slowing.
“You said you wanted it in your mouth,” he growled, his mouth beginning to form a grimace. He was that close again, that fast.
“I do. I want it in my mouth.” But this was just garbled nothingness. She barely knew what she was saying. She didn’t know if she was cumming again, or was about to, or was coming down. All she knew was that the idea of him finishing in her mouth was the most dirty thing she could think of to do or say, and that made it so hot, so hot, so hot….
“I’m close,” he panted.
Nicole stood and quickly fell to her knees in front of him, her mouth on his cock, her hand working up and down the shaft. Brandon’s eyes rolled up, then closed. His chest rose and fell. She felt the head of his cock as it kissed against the insides of her lips, then vanished, then came back up. It seemed to be swelling, and she could taste something on it.
His ass began to clench. His eyes opened and became intense, watching her suck his cock.
He wants to see it, she thought.
So, because the air was so hot and her hand had, of its own accord, found its way between her legs again, she opened her mouth and continued to stroke, her tongue licking long strokes on the underside.
Loud enough for the neighboring wall to hear, Nicole said, “I want you to cum in my mouth!”
Brandon clenched, his feet trying to kick at the floor. The cock began to pulse in her hand, and hot spurts of cum hit the back of her mouth, her tongue, rolling out onto her lips and chin. There seemed to be a lot of it, considering that so much was still drying on her naked back.
When it was over and his body relaxed, Nicole looked up into his eyes and let his milk drip out of her mouth, onto his still-erect cock. She flicked the sensitive underside with her tongue, causing him to flinch.
After a moment, she stood and ran a single finger across her lower lip to wipe it clean. He looked up at her as if she were like nothing he’d ever seen before.
“What?” she said. But of course, that was the wrong question. Her lips and back were wet with his semen despite the fact that she’d barely spoken ten words to him before today. What? could be answered by fifty different and totally legitimate responses.
“You look so amazing,” he said.
His attention felt good. Damn if she wasn’t already starting to feel warm between her legs again.
“You’re just so … perfect. So hot,” he added.
Yes, it was definitely still warm. And still wet. And his cock was still firm, despite having just come twice.
“Your name is Nicole, right?”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. A hand went to the warmth between her legs as if she were tipping a hat to him in greeting.
“Yes. Nicole.”
“I’d like to keep doing this, Nicole,” he said. “Like … now as well as later. I could fuck you all day long.”
But just as she was about to tell him how mutual the feeling was, there was a knock at the door. Nicole looked at Brandon, her eyebrows rising. Thad would know better than to come to Brandon’s door again. With any luck, Thad was back in his room, beating off and thinking about how everything he’d heard could have been done with him on the receiving end.
“Brandon?” came a voice.
Brandon’s hands reached up and cradled Nicole’s breasts like they were sacred objects. He said, “I want to come on these, too.”
The knock came again.
She said, “Someone is at your door.”
“Ignore it.”
The knock came again. “Brandon?” said the voice.
Brandon sighed heavily. “What?”
“The wedge got kicked out of the door somehow,” said the voice on the other side of the door. “I’ve got a basket of laundry here. Come on … let me in.”
“Go do more laundry,” said Brandon.
“I’m out of money,” said the voice.
Nicole smiled. She reached into her discarded jeans, then crossed to the door still completely naked, Brandon’s cum in streaks on both her back and front.
She opened the door. Brandon’s roommate actually dropped the laundry basket he was holding when he saw her, and then Nicole handed him a five-dollar bill.
“Next load’s on us,” she said, and closed the door.
“Well,” said Brandon from behind her, “it’ll be on you, anyway.”
Sarah's Surprising Turn-On
Sarah set her bag down on the bed she was assigned — a single in the smallest room in the cabin. There was a desk in the room, she saw. That, at least, was good. She took her laptop out of her bag and set it on the desk, then rummaged in her bag for the power cord, dragged it out from under her underwear, and plugged it in. The laptop was nearly drained. She’d been using it during the entire drive.
She thought again about how she really shouldn’t be here, on what was essentially a vacation, when she had a paper due next week.
Well, it wasn’t due yet, precisely … but she needed to work on it if she was to stay on schedule for when it was due. She used a three-phase system for research papers. The first phase was like throwing anything remotely useful into a sack. The second phase was like sorting through the stuff in that sack. The third phase was the actual writing. Sarah always wrote straight through from beginning to end without a break. Once your ducks were in a row, writing any paper was easy. That was the advantage of her system.
As of now, Sarah had finished phase one and was ready to begin phase two. She should be back at school sifting, instead of out here in the woods.
Vicki popped her head into the doorway, eyed the laptop, and made a face. She was wearing a tight pink shirt that read SHITFACED in all caps.
“You aren’t seriously going to work on your research paper,” she said.
“Not right now,” said Sarah. She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get up early tomorrow to do it.”
“Oh, of course,” said Vicki. “Working right now would be ridiculous. Getting up early on a weekend trip to organize a history paper makes perfect sense, though.”
Sarah made a decidedly annoyed face at Vicki. Vicki still lived with Sarah, but she’d been accepted into her sorority months ago and was fall-down drunk at least two days out of every seven. Once, she’d thrown up in the shower and then had told Sarah, who was reading in the common area, “I think I had sex with some guy last night and all I can remember about him is that he had a goatee. Don’t tell Edward.” Then she’d closed the door to their room and hadn’t emerged for twelve hours.
A hand appeared above Vicki’s head. It hooked its
fingers into a claw, then moved down and honked Vicki’s boob. From where Sarah was standing, the hand changed the legend on Vicki’s shirt temporarily to TFACED.
Vicki jumped. Edward’s face appeared next to her, and the honking began again in earnest.
“Settling in?” he asked Sarah.
“I’m all good, Ed,” she said, refusing to look at them. She pulled a trackball from her bag and plugged it into the computer’s USB port. It was nerdy, but who wanted to edit using a trackpad?
“Edward,” Vicki corrected.
“‘Edward,’” agreed Edward in audible air quotes. Before he’d started dating Vicki, he’d gone by Ed, but Vicki thought it sounded like a horse’s name.
“Please let him go by ‘Ed,’ Vicki,” said Sarah. “Otherwise, he sounds like he’s about to go have tea with the Queen or something.”
Vicki ignored her and said, “Just try to have fun, okay? You will try, won’t you?”
“I’m not much of a drinker, but I can have sober fun,” said Sarah.
“Joe doesn’t drink either,” said Vicki. “He’s in recovery.”
Sarah knew that, of course. She’d heard it from a guy named Greg that she’d gone on a date with a few weeks ago. She’d asked Greg about the blond, all-American type he’d been talking to at a house party — and Greg, eager to please and naive, hadn’t realized that she’d said it with lust in her voice. But of course, she’d said everything with lust in her voice after that party. After seeing what she’d seen and doing what she’d done in the room at the back of the house, she’d probably asked for her lunch with lust the next day.
Joe was twenty-one. It should have disgusted Sarah that anyone could be such a mess prior to even being legally allowed to drink, but it didn’t. She was a sucker for self-improvement, and based on the few conversations she’d had with Joe, she’d gleaned that Joe had had a rough childhood, and was trying, bit by bit, to better himself. She found it admirable.
“Does Nancy drink?” said Sarah. Nancy was Joe’s date on this weekend adventure. Sarah said the name as if it were a species of disgusting mold.
“I think she drinks a little,” said Vicki.
Edward, surprisingly observant, said, “You like Joe?”
“No.”
“You do! Want me to hook you up? Joe’s a good buddy. The two of us and Thad practically grew up together. As teen vampires, apparently — Edward, Victoria, and Thaddeus.” He made a face.
Sarah felt herself blushing. She busied herself in her bag.
“Sarah, really, Nancy’s just a hookup.” His face was serious, seeming to honestly want to help. Ed was a good guy. Or Edward — whichever.
“She’s also loose,” Vicki added helpfully.
None of this was improving Sarah’s mood or her blush. She hadn’t wanted to come, she really shouldn’t have come, she was the only single person here with two couples (who would be bunking in rooms that sandwiched hers between them; she hoped she wouldn’t have to hear drunken screwing in stereo), and now her roommate was trying to cheer her up by telling her that her crush’s date was loose.
“I’m just saying,” said Vicki, reading her. “You could probably, you know, join in.”
Sarah actually laughed out loud. “You know me so well, Vicki!” she said. “Thank you for your encouragement of that threesome I’ve been pining for. Now please leave me to my unpacking and go fulfill the promise of your shirt.”
Vicki looked down, seemed to remember what her shirt said, and then returned the laugh. She took Edward’s hand and led him away, toward the liquor cabinet.
Sarah’s mood improved only marginally over the next few hours.
Sarah knew Vicki’s drinking cycle in a way that only a roommate could. Vicki would get drunker for a while, hit a period of maximum drunkenness around dinner, and then would back off and sober up to merely “tipsy” or “buzzed” as the evening came on. The two-cycle system wasn’t about moderation. Vicki backed off after drunkenness #1 because getting drunk, in Vicki’s learned opinion, was more fun than being drunk.
So, during the first phase, while Joe and Nancy were getting settled and Edward and Vicki were getting drunk on the couch in the cabin’s main room, Sarah found herself in her room, doing baseline organization on her paper to kill time before dinner.
She knew it was lame. She’d tried not to open her computer, but there was very little to do at the cabin. It was too cold to go exploring outside, and the place didn’t have a TV. For a while, she’d fought her urge to work, and had sat with everyone in the main room. But Edward and Vicki just drank, and Nancy (who wasn’t as much of an airheaded slut as Sarah had hoped, damn her) had read a magazine. Joe eventually did the same.
Sarah had picked up the last magazine on the coffee table and tried to relax. The magazine was about pet grooming.
Five minutes later, Sarah decided that it was stupid to waste time so pointlessly, so she’d excused herself and gone into her small room and closed the door, explaining that she’d be out a bit later — when the real fun would, of course, begin.
The room was quaint and relatively quiet. The walls were made of bona-fide stacked logs, and she had a nice view of woods through the window.
You are so lame, she thought, looking at her closed computer.
Then, because she was who she was, she decided that there was no point in deceiving herself, and opened the laptop.
Ten minutes later, she heard the sound of a door closing. Giggling came from behind her. It sounded surprisingly close, and at first, she thought Vicki had barged in on her, but when she turned, she found the room empty. The giggling was coming from the next room.
Annoying, she thought. The sound goes right between the logs.
She was just about to reach for her earbuds to block it out when she heard a male voice — a deep chuckle that counterpointed the giggle.
The female voice giggled again. “Stop it!” it said.
Nancy.
“No way, I want to see,” said the male voice.
Joe.
They sounded so close. It was as if they were standing right behind her. The log wall did little to muffle the sound, and when she looked more closely, Sarah saw why. Most of the mortar had fallen away. The logs were more or less just stacked up, held in place by the joints at the corners. The outer walls seemed thicker with insulation, but apparently someone had decided the interior walls were okay the way they were.
“Come on,” said Joe. “I want to see them.”
Them?
Sarah shook her head, turned back around, and began re-reading a paragraph she’d been cobbling together when the voices had interrupted her.
“No way, back off!” said Nancy’s voice. She giggled again, more enthusiastically this time.
Sarah reached for her earbud headphones, pushed them into her ears, and started some music. The outside world — and the voices — vanished.
She read the paragraph.
Read the paragraph.
Read the paragraph.
But she was distracted. What she’d written didn’t make sense, so she pulled out the earbuds and turned her head, again, toward the back wall.
Joe said, “Come on … take it off.”
Sarah felt a spontaneous tingle between her legs. Her nipples hardened. It was like being goosed. The feeling surprised and shocked her, just like it had surprised and shocked her a few weeks ago at that party where Amanda and her boyfriend had … right there in front of everyone….
She started to put her earbuds back into her ears. This was wrong. Listening in was wrong. Watching others was wrong. She thought back to the party with the public and illicit activity that she’s sat down to watch, and now her body’s reaction to whatever was going on next door … and found herself aghast.
This — this desire to spy — wasn’t her … was it?
No. She was a studious, good girl.
Sarah had more or less shoved the party incident into the back of her mind over the course of the past we
eks and had written it off as a strange, one-off indiscretion. It was a situational thing — the kind of circumstance that nobody ever finds themselves in, and during which no rules apply because it’s such an oddity. But now, finding herself aroused by overhearing the couple next door, she found herself recalling the party’s scintillating details. She thought of how she’d found herself so turned on by what Amanda and her man were doing on that couch in front of that drunken crowd that she’d backed into an alcove, dropped her panties, and taken care of business in plain sight of anyone who’d cared to look. Nobody had looked, but hadn’t the thrill of knowing they could been as exciting as what she’d been watching?
Ugh. She wanted to press the earbuds back into her ears, to make it all go away.
She wasn’t sure who that pervert had been, back at that party, but she didn’t want to be that person. Who masturbates in a room filled with people? Who sits down to watch two drunk and naked people getting each other off in public? And who listens in on people through walls?
She tried to focus on the screen of her laptop … but in her mind’s eye, she kept seeing Amanda’s mouth wrapped around that wet cock as it came, white streams of semen leaking around her lips and pooling at its base. She saw herself with her panties in her pocket, her hand working furiously under her hiked-up skirt.
And right here and now, the tingling between her legs hadn’t abated one iota.
The earbuds came out. She realized that she’d pulled them out, but she didn’t remember doing it.
Through the wall, the female voice giggled.
Sarah found herself sitting on the bed, next to the log wall, her eye to a chink in the mortar. Who are you? said a voice in her head, but she pushed it down and continued to watch, quite keen to see what came next.
Across the small room, she watched as Nancy, already in her bra, reached behind her back to unclasp it. Her breasts were small, maybe a B-cup, and with perky pink nipples.
Sarah’s hand was rubbing the crotch of her jeans — hesitantly, almost as if it was indecisive and just feeling out its options.
Filthy Dirty Normal, Volume 2 Page 4