I kissed it, and I felt her tremble. I licked it once, apprehensive about what it would taste like. To my surprise, it didn’t have much flavor, but if I had to describe it, I would say it tasted like electricity. She smelled like sex, and it was intoxicating. She was already wet, so when I put a finger inside her, it slipped in easy.
“More,” she moaned.
I slid a second and then a third finger into her while licking her like an ice cream cone.
“Not so hard,” she whispered. “Go from top to bottom using the underside of your tongue. That’s the pressure you should use.”
I took her direction, using the bottom of my tongue to lick her. I used that as a gauge and reverted to using the top with less force. Based on her response, I had it dialed in.
“Now, draw a picture,” she said. “A flower, or a forest.”
I began tracing a daisy on her pussy lips and clit, imagining her trying to figure out what I was making. She responded by pulling my hair. “Holy shit, girl, you eat pussy like a pro!”
I felt something poke me from behind. I clenched up and looked over my shoulder. Todd was there, touching my vagina. I had a fleeting thought of in for a penny, in for a pound, and before I knew I’d even thought the words, my mouth said, “Fuck me,” and I dropped my back a little and spread my legs, making myself as available to him as I could.
I turned my attention back to the woman, reaching up with a free hand to stroke and pinch her nipples, flicking my tongue on her, sliding my fingers in and out.
Todd entered me, just a little at first, then more, then on the third stroke, he went balls deep, as they say. He pumped against me and drove my face into the woman’s pussy, making her cry out. I could feel his balls hitting me, slapping into my clit. I clenched on him and heard him say, “Oh my god!”
The woman was bucking against me, screaming, and I felt Todd release everything inside me, his cock pulsing several times. He pulled out, leaving me empty, and I could feel his cum running down the inside of my thighs.
The woman cried out, “Fuck her!” Within seconds, another cock was sliding into me. I glanced back and saw Boomer thrusting his hips like a rabbit. The pinball action, his cock slamming into me, my face slamming into the woman’s pussy, was a perverse rhythm. Boomer came even faster than Todd. “Next!” I shouted, hungry for more. I’m sure it was the effects of the ecstasy, but I felt so powerful at that moment. Men were practically diving over each other to fuck me, one after another, not even caring that I was a mess of other men’s cum. I had my face buried in this woman’s pussy, and she was screaming in pleasure. When she came, I came, and the last guy came inside me. The three of us, all cumming at once, all crying out, was fucking amazing. Her cum shot out of her, not a squirt like mine was, but forcefully enough that it ran over my fingers and up my nose. Her smell was like a savory perfume.
I climbed up into the chair, and she wrapped her arms around me. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“Mmm. I feel like a whore. A dirty, satisfied, cum drenched whore. I fucking loved this.”
She stroked my hair, and when another boy came over, cock in hand, trying to line it up with my pussy, she pulled me tight to her and said, “No. We’re done. Fuck off.”
He started to protest, and another frat boy, one I hadn’t seen before, walked over. “Beat it, Fudge Stripe,” he said. He had two blankets under his arm. “Ladies, would you like to shower?”
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Quarter after one.”
Holy shit! I thought. We’d gone downstairs around eleven! How could it have been more than two hours of sucking and fucking? It had to be the drug, compressing time in addition to making me insanely horny.
“Yes,” the woman said, “a shower would be nice.” She started to move, so I stood up. I literally felt like I was head-to-toe covered in cum. I guess that’s because I was.
The man offered us each a blanket. While we covered up in them, I looked around. “Where the fuck are my clothes?”
He wrapped one of the blankets around me. “I took them. All your stuff is locked in my room, your clothes are in the wash. I figured you’d want to go home as clean as when you came here.”
“Oh, well… that’s nice,” I said. “So, which number were you?”
He looked confused.
“When did you fuck me?”
“I didn’t. I was there to ensure things didn’t get out of hand.”
I raised my eyebrows at him.
“What I mean is, if either of you said enough was enough, I would ensure that everything stopped as soon as you said so. Like I just did.”
“Oh,” I said.
“How often do you guys do this?” the woman asked him.
“As often as we get a couple of willing women. The guys put money in the pot and bet on who lasts the longest beating off. The ones jerking it are the first years. Second years and up, we allow to…”
“Fuck us,” I finished his sentence for him.
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you join in?”
“I just don’t feel right about it. I mean, I know that sounds dumb since I help facilitate, but I’d rather be with someone in a more… intimate setting. And someone has to be the zookeeper for the rest of those apes.”
We’d climbed out of the basement, ascended two more flights of stairs, and walked halfway down a long hallway.
“Here we are,” he said, pushing a door open. “Cleanest shower in the house. I put out towels, there’s soap, and shampoo in there.” He pointed to a chair a few feet away. “I’ll be out here, making sure no one bothers you.”
We climbed into the shower together and took our time soaping each other up. The woman took care to clean me down below, as well as she could. We took turns washing each other’s hair, and we pressed our bodies together. I loved the feel of her hairless, soapy torso against mine, the way our breasts slid over each other. She kissed me tenderly, running her hands up and down my back. It was sweet.
The frat boy knocked on the door. “Everything okay in there?”
I peeked around the curtain and saw clock the read 2:00. Oops! “Yes,” I said as the woman turned the water off. “We’ll be right out.”
We toweled off and stepped out of the shower. The woman wrapped the towel around her head, standing naked in front of me. She really was gorgeous, but I was focused more on her perfect body than anything else. I had just—what? Fucked her? I didn’t know what to call it, but we had been as intimate as two lovers can be. I felt different than I had at the start of the night, and not just because I’d had my mouth on her gorgeous pussy.
“Well,” she said. “Let’s go take care of our white knight, shall we?”
Completion
Y ou can’t leave me hanging,” Gemma begged. “And you actually did all that? You’re not making it up because I joked about raw-dogging an entire frat?”
I felt ashamed. “No, I’m not making it up. You can go find another friend now, I won’t be offended.”
She slid across the couch in one smooth motion. “Why would I want to do that? You may be the most interesting woman I’ve ever met. I want to know everything about you. Why would I want to find another friend?”
“I don’t know. It just sounds bad when I tell the story. I was Slutty McSlutterson. And it didn’t exactly pay dividends, as you’ll find out soon enough.”
“Darcy, you did that stuff because you wanted to, and there’s nothing wrong with that. The ecstasy and liquor may have loosened your inhibitions a little…”
I rolled my eyes at her.
“Okay, a lot, but that fearless warrior is inside you. If a guy went and had sex with a bunch of girls like that, he’d never stop bragging about it. He’d be sixty years old and still beating off to it. Don’t you ever be ashamed about having that kind of appetite. Find another friend? Darcy, I’m in awe of you. But, I want to know how the night ended.” She stroked my arm and held my hand, lacing her fingers into mine. “Please?
”
I looked her in the eye. She was intense and sincere and disarming. Her expression made me want to please her.
“Okay,” I relented.
The White Knight’s Lair
Ten Years Ago
T he woman opened the bathroom door and walked into the hall naked. I followed, wrapped in my towel.
The man stood up and stared at her body, then averted his gaze. “All clean?”
“Yep,” we both said at the same time.
“Great! Well, your clothes aren’t dry yet, so I guess we could…”
“Go to your room,” the woman finished the sentence for him.
He paused, doing some mental gymnastics, based on his expression. “Okay,” he finally said. We walked down the hall, and he opened a door for us. The room was clean, or at least clean for a frat house. There were two beds, one each on opposite sides of the room. “My roommate is gone for the weekend,” he explained.
“His loss,” the woman said. She rubbed his groin, and he initially pulled back.
“No, you don’t have to…”
“This is happening… what’s your name?” she asked.
“Peter.”
“This is happening, Peter.” She looked at me and nodded at the door. I closed it and locked it.
“Now,” the woman started, unfastening his belt, “here’s how this will go down. You’ve been watching all this crazy sex all night. You’re probably primed and ready to pop. I’m going to take care of you, then you’re going to take care of my friend. Understand?” She pulled his pants down, taking his boxers at the same time. His cock sprang up, already hard.
I gasped. It was ten inches long if it was an inch. It wasn’t as thick as others I’ve seen or had inside me—that night, even—but damn was it a sight to behold.
The woman took him by the cock and led him over to the roommate’s bed. She pushed him down, making him lie flat, leaving his tower of flesh sticking straight up in the air.
She wrapped a hand around his shaft and began stroking it. He moaned right away. She licked her other hand and rolled her palm around the purple head. I saw his stomach muscles twitch as she worked him faster, her hand eventually moving quickly enough that it looked blurry to me. He gasped, stifling a grunt, and I watched as the head of his cock swelled in size by half, and then he shot his white cum into the air. I could see the muscles behind his scrotum pulsing, another jet of semen bursting forth with each spasm. Finally, after a dozen shots, each one progressively less voluminous, he was done.
He sat up. His stomach and legs covered in his own fluids. He looked around for something to wipe himself off with, but the woman was having none of it.
“Hey, you can deal with being covered in jizz. We did. At least this is your own. Now, get over there and eat her pussy.”
She pulled on his cock to get him moving, and then reached over and stripped me of my towel, throwing it across the room out of his reach. I didn’t think I’d be ready for any more sex that night, but watching his huge cock erupting had a libidinous effect on me. I was genuinely insatiable that night. I played along with the woman’s directions and opened my legs to him, ready to receive his mouth.
He was good. Not as good as the woman, but he knew his way around a vagina. While he worked me down below, she climbed onto the bed and straddled me, her bald pussy an inch from my face. She didn’t say anything. I stuck out my tongue, sliding it between her lips, and she dropped down onto me. She worked her hips forward and backward, fucking my face. I couldn’t believe that I’d eaten my first pussy that night, and now was getting face-fucked by the same woman. By this time, the euphoric effects of the ecstasy were wearing off, and I still wanted her. Wanted to taste her, wanted to make her cum. Her juices flowed freely, running down my cheeks, her rhythm gaining momentum. I felt my own hips bucking, moving in the same tempo as hers.
Her thighs tensed up, and she started to cum. Just like before, I raised my hips and came at the same time. For the second time in my life, I squirted, covering poor Peter’s face.
She climbed off me. “Fuck, you learn fast.”
I smiled. “I’ve always been a quick study when I enjoy something.”
The woman grabbed Peter by the cock again. “Oh yeah, he’s ready for you.” She turned to him. “Fuck her with that long cock.”
I’d had two of the most powerful orgasms of my life that night, so I wasn’t in desperate need of another, but I went along with it. I wasn’t passing up on the longest cock I’d seen outside of porn. He climbed on the bed.
“You’re okay with this?”
I spread my legs wide. “Give me your peter, Peter.”
I heard the woman laugh, but then he was inside me, and I didn’t hear much else. I’d never had anything, not even a dildo or vibrator, that deep inside my pussy. He started to pump his hips, and I swear he hit bottom on every stroke. It was uncomfortable.
“Hold on,” I said. I pushed Peter off me and flipped over, sticking my ass in the air and spreading my legs. He mounted me again, and holy shit was this better. I mean, doggie style is basically reverse cowgirl without having to do the work, and that tool of his was running past all the right spots inside me.
I dropped from my elbows to my shoulders, optimizing his angle of entry, letting him drive my face into his pillow. His balls slapped against me, and I was drifting along on the edge of an orgasm for what seemed like forever. The woman had done me a huge favor making him cum beforehand because he lasted long enough to make me cum. I started pulsing, building pressure, climbing the wave, and just as I was about to cum, something felt different inside me. It clicked in my mind—the head of his cock just swelled. After watching him get jerked off by the woman, I knew what that meant, and I came, screaming into his pillow, clamping down so hard on that beautiful shaft that I thought I would rip it off. I felt him, like before, pumping over and over, filling me up with his cum. The poor boy was going to need a Gatorade.
Finally, he collapsed on top of me. I rolled sideways, and he stayed there, behind me. His cock was still in me, pulsing every few seconds, like aftershocks following an earthquake. I fell asleep like that, him inside me, his arm wrapped around me.
As I drifted off, I was satisfied completely, in a way I’d never felt before. And for the first time in a month, as Peter’s semen dripped out of my tired pussy, I wasn’t thinking about Phillip.
Breakfast Date
A fter drinking two bottles of wine at Gemma’s house, I awoke with a hangover. I was going to go out and get a Hangover Special from Shakes Alive, but I remembered that I left my car at Gemma’s, and Ubered home the night before. She offered to let me stay at her place, of course, but I was feeling a little self-conscious after spilling my darkest secrets to her. And worse yet, I knew there was more to the story she’d want to hear. A lot more.
I was debating taking another Uber to get my car when my phone buzzed. It was a text from Gemma.
My head’s killing me. How’s yours? If you tell me you’re okay and going for a run, I’m going to kill myself. I need greasy diner food, stat!
I looked at the screen for a few seconds. Did I want to go out with Gemma today, after all the dirt-dishing I did last night? I’d have to see her at some point since I needed to get my car from her place, so I figured I’d just make it a date. I texted her back, teasing her.
“I just got back from a run. Was thinking of going to Shakes Alive for my whey protein and citrus hangover special.”
The three dots danced under the message, then her reply came through.
I HATE you!
I laughed, and before I could reply, she added a line.
I’ll come and get you. Address?
I sent her my address and rolled out of bed, peed, brushed my teeth, downed three ibuprofens, and tried to pick out something to wear. I opted for sweat shorts and a zip-up hoodie.
Gemma arrived a few minutes later, dressed similarly in comfy shorts and a Misfits t-shirt. “Tell me you didn’t really go
out for a run already!”
I laughed. “I’m lucky to be vertical. It’s been a long time since I’ve drunk that much.”
“Me too! I hardly remember anything from last night. Did we talk a lot, or did I imagine that?”
I perked up. Did she honestly not remember my sordid tale? Then she dashed my hopes.
“Just kidding, I remember everything. That’s for making me think you went running today. Come on, let’s go get one of your horrid sounding shakes.”
I scowled, not happy that she joked about the one thing I was susceptible to. But, if I’d learned anything about her these last few days, it was that she was very direct. In a way, it was refreshing.
I told her where to go, and fifteen minutes later, we were sitting in a corner booth at my favorite shake stand, each of us enjoying one thousand calories of protein and fat-heavy recovery shake.
“I have to admit, this is pretty freaking good,” Gemma said. “It tastes like orange cream soda! Reminds me of being a kid.”
I nodded, sucking on my straw like it was paying me. When I came up for air, I pointed at the stenciled phrase painted on the wall at the rear of the building, above the restroom entrance.
I don’t know if it’s worth five dollars, but it’s pretty f**king good. – Vincent Vega
“You and Vincent Vega agree,” I said. “You’ll be ready to go in a half hour after this. It’s got vitamin B and C, whey protein, vanilla bean ice cream, and orange juice. It’s seriously a miracle.”
“We’ll see. I’m a breakfast sausage and fried egg, side of Tabasco kind of recovery person. The grease soaks up all the toxins. At least, that’s my theory.”
“That does sound good, but trust me on this.”
“I will if you finish your story,” she said, making sultry eyes at me.
Tell-Tale Hearts Page 4