Boomer hopped into the frame; well, hopped into me, really, dropping to his knees and driving his cock into my hole in one movement. I hit pause for a moment. His penis was perhaps five inches long, and that was being generous. I hit play again. He pumped me for about thirty seconds before convulsing with his orgasm, spilling his seed inside me.
Really, Boomer. That’s the kind of performance you think I want to “hit” again? You’re a sad little man.
Onscreen, I shouted, “Next!” Another brother hopped into place and slid into me.
I let my hand drift down to my groin. My pussy lips were still swollen and a little sore, but I fingered myself, and the feelings of pleasure quickly overrode the discomfort. I moaned a little, feeling my hips move of their own accord, my rhythm picking up speed. Onscreen, brother number five was inside me, and the woman in the chair had her legs pulled up to the sides of her head, giving me complete access to her pussy.
Number five got up, and number six got on. He lasted longer than everyone, other than Todd. He shuddered, cumming inside my pussy. I came and the woman came.
Reliving the triple orgasm sent me over the edge, and I came hard, clenching and pulsing, feeling the rush of juices into my underwear.
Correction: her underwear. My impulse was to change them, but I decided to leave them on. I felt more confident with a piece of her on me. It was like armor. Pussy armor.
My phone came to life on its charger, and the text notifications started buzzing. I only answered one—from Peter to let him know I got his number and for him to call me some time—and read another. There were several more from Kelly and Sheila, which I didn’t bother to read. The last one was the clinic confirming they’d found ecstasy (MDMA, or 3,4 methylenedioxymethamphetamine) in my system. I forwarded the text to Kelly and Sheila.
I went out to the living room where Kelly and Sheila were looking at their phones. I walked over to them and took a seat on the couch. “Well? What’s it going to be?”
“Jesus, Darcy, you still reek of sex,” Kelly said.
“That’s because I just watched the video and masturbated, Kelly. I couldn’t help it; it was so hot watching the replay.” Her face seethed with anger. This wasn’t going to help me keep her from sending the link to my parents. In all honesty, they were the only ones I cared about seeing it, so I backpedaled. “I’m sorry, that was unnecessary and mean—”
“And gross.”
“Oh, it’s not like we don’t hear you doing it in the shower, Kelly.” That drew a laugh from Sheila, who got a reproachful glare from Kelly. “Look, I’m sorry. For the record, I had no idea who Todd was when he started hitting on me. And when he showed up behind me in the basement, well, I wasn’t thinking about anything but… my own carnal desires. I know you like him, Kelly, and I’m sorry. But he doesn’t feel the same way, clearly.”
“Not now that you fucked him, that’s for sure.”
“He doesn’t care about me, either, Kelly. He’ll have his cock in someone else in that basement next weekend. Probably before then.”
She looked at her phone. “Are you going back there? Are you going to do that again?” She pointed at her screen. “JT says you’re all they’re talking about today, about how into it you were, and how can they get you back down there.”
“I’m not planning on it. That was kind of a one-off situation. I just went for it, and without the ecstasy on board, I never would have done it. But everything felt so good, I just wanted more and more and more. I didn’t do anything out of spite, and I have no desire to do it again. Please believe me.”
“Well, Sheila and I talked, and I won’t send the link to anyone, but you have to promise to never go to the police,” Kelly said. “I told JT to delete the link from their group and to tell the brothers to stop forwarding it. I can ask him to take the video down completely if you want. He said he would.”
I pondered this for a minute. I was sure more than one of the brothers already had downloaded the video, so it would never truly go away. And, if I made a big deal out of it and forced them to remove it, I’d just be ensuring that they’d keep posting it elsewhere just to be dicks. It was grainy enough footage; I didn’t think anyone could recognize me unless they knew in advance that it was me. Better to leave it where it was and let the buzz die down. In another week, they’d post a new video, and mine would be forgotten.
I relayed my logic to the girls.
Sheila nodded. “I think that’s the right way to go. You’re right, once it’s on the Internet, it never really goes away. And men are like infants; if you make something forbidden, that’s all they want to do.”
“Tell JT the video stays up, but I don’t want them promoting it. It’s for Sig Om use only. Maybe if they feel special, they’ll honor the request.”
Kelly nodded. “I’ll tell him.”
So, I lived in an uneasy peace with my two roommates for the rest of the semester. A few weeks after the big event, Sheila confessed to me, after many drinks, that she had masturbated to the video several times and wanted to know what it was like to be with a woman. We waited for a weekend when Kelly was gone, and I let her roll in the hay with me. We had a lot of fun—she called it “a vacation from herself”—but it wasn’t as intense as it was with the mystery woman, who I never saw again. After that weekend, Sheila would sneak into my room from time to time, even when Kelly was home to get some girl time. I was always happy to oblige. She was enthusiastic when she went down on me, and grateful when I did it to her. She’s married and has kids now. When I lived in California, she came out on business, and we went and got dinner, then went to my apartment and fucked. That was after she was married, but before the kids, so I’m her dirty little secret. I still chat online with her every now and then. She’s turned out to be a pretty decent person.
Kelly went back to the frat the next weekend and tried to get into the basement so she could fuck Todd, but they didn’t have a party like the one I attended. She ended up making a video with JT, which of course, he uploaded to the porn sites. While she pretended she didn’t like having it out there, she wouldn’t stop talking about how many views it had, and what her percent rating was. She got super pissed when she found out the frat had monetized the account, and they were getting paid every time someone watched one of the videos they posted, but she wasn’t getting a cut. I lost touch with her when the semester ended, and we all moved out of the apartment. She unfriended and blocked me on Facebook, and I’ve never gone searching for her.
Peter and I dated for about three weeks, but eventually, he just couldn’t handle the hazing from his frat brothers. They all started calling him Mills, like Brad Pitt’s character in the movie Seven. First, because he was the seventh guy to fuck me that night, and second because they kept saying, “Who’s in her box?” playing on the line at the end of that movie. They did it no matter the situation. Once he and I were in the student center on campus and Boomer walked past, practically shouting, “Who’s in her box? Mills! Who’s in her box? I was! I was in there before you, Mills!”
I replied, “Yeah, you were, Boomer, all four inches for an entire thirty seconds. Hardly worth shouting about.” The other SigOms with him cracked up.
Of course, that pissed him off, and his taunting of Peter turned mean. It got to the point that Peter was ready to fight him, but that would have gotten him tossed out of the frat. In the end, it was bros before hoes.
He said the nonstop hazing was too much for him. I was initially upset, but I didn’t blame him. I stared into the future, and I could see the two of us, in our thirties, married, and the brothers would still be calling him Mills. They’d probably show the video at his bachelor party. He was right—it wasn’t going to work between us. It was too bad because I really did enjoy that big cock of his. He ruined me for normal-sized guys for a while—though if they’re girthy, that makes a difference.
At the end of the semester, I left town. I’d already been accepted at another school on the coast, and I put this place i
n my rearview for almost a decade before moving back.
I never saw Peter again—until one day at the supermarket a couple of months ago.
Video Replay
G emma sat behind her empty shake glass with her mouth hanging open. “That’s the craziest story I’ve ever heard! I thought you were a warrior goddess before, but you handled your business like a pro!”
I looked across the table at her. “None of this really bothers you? It doesn’t make you think less of me?”
“Why should it? It’s in the past. It brought you here. And like I said, I have my own twisted tales. Anyone worth knowing has something troublesome in their past. So, what happened when you saw Peter a couple of months ago? Did he recognize you? How did he look? Did he get fat? I bet he got fat.”
“We’ll go through that another time, okay? I don’t have the energy for it right now.”
Disappointment flashed across her face, but then her expression brightened. “Well, that gives me something to look forward to. I hope you take this the right way, but I can’t wait to hear more about this. You’re fascinating.”
I took a chance and leaned forward. “Well, until then, can I show you something?”
She nodded. “Of course!”
I looked around to ensure we were still alone and stuck my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts and wiggled my hips, pulling them down past my knees, and spread my legs wide open.
Gemma’s eyes grew wide. I think she thought I was showing her my bald beaver. She leaned over, wearing a huge grin. Under the table, she was greeted by a teal-pink-and-white plaid G-string.
She sat back up. “Shut up! You still have her G-string? Ten years later?”
I wiggled my hips as I pulled my shorts back up. “Yep. Every time I see it, it reminds me of a wild night where I did what I wanted without regard for what anyone’s opinion was. A night I was truly free. It makes me feel like I can do anything I want. I only wear it on special occasions, so it’s lasted forever. You’re going to think I’m a sap, but I keep hoping that one day, I’ll be able to give it back to her.”
Gemma smiled. “Can you imagine? What if she still has yours? With the heart on it?”
“Oh, I can’t imagine that she does. I wasn’t her first conquest. I bet she moved to the next person right away.”
“I don’t know. She took your heart, literally. You must have made an impression.”
“Well, not enough of one that she tried to find me afterward. But that’s okay—who knows what she’s like now? I have that one, deliciously erotic night of hedonism to look back on. In my mind, she’ll always be perfect, even if the fallout afterward sucked for a while. Like you said, it made me who I am today.”
We threw our empty shake cups in the trash, and Gemma drove me back to her house so I could pick up my car. She asked what I was doing the next day, specifically if I was going to the gym or not. I told her I’d have to check my mail and see what new projects had come in, and I’d get back to her.
When I got back to my house, I grabbed my laptop and plugged the HDMI cable into the TV. I scrolled around and found the folder with the video in it. The frat guys had stayed up the remainder of that night, ten years ago, editing two hours-worth of footage down to a forty-minute video. That was crazy long for amateur porn, especially by today’s standards, but it was action-packed. Most videos I had seen were between five and fifteen minutes. Given what I had been through recently, watching this would probably be a bad idea, but I hadn’t watched it in a long time. I double-clicked it and stretched out.
It started with me in the chair with the woman. It was uncanny the way the shadows seemed to follow her face, keeping me from getting a good look. I scrolled ahead a little bit, to where she undid my top and pulled it down.
Good grief, I was so young in this video. And soft. I paused it and took my shirt and bra off. Even though I was ten years older than in the video, in my opinion, my tits looked better now. They were bigger, for one thing—36C versus 34B. I was slender back in college, but I had zero muscle tone. Now I was not just thin, but I was muscular. I doubt I could have bench pressed half my body weight when that video was made, and now I was pushing one hundred fifty-five pounds. I was squatting one eighty-five, and I was able to do thirty pull-ups and fifty pushups. Modern me would kick college me’s ass. My hair was a mess back then too. I’d tried dying it blonde, away from my natural red, and that looked horrible, so I went back to red, but it came out almost orange. So, I went brown. The result was a mousy mess. Now I was back to my natural burgundy shade, which, again, in my humble opinion, looked fantastic.
Onscreen, college me was squirting all over the mystery woman. I felt a tingle in my nethers. Well, I knew how this was going to end. I stripped out of the rest of my clothes and teased myself along for a few minutes, then scrolled ahead to the finale, the triple orgasm. Even though the woman onscreen was a lesser version of myself, I still paid her tribute and made the ending a quadruple orgasm. I turned on some chillout music and closed my eyes for just a moment, and promptly fell asleep, naked, on the couch. It was the best quality sleep I’d had in a long time.
Busted
F or the next few days, both Gemma and I were busy with work, and our schedules were mixed up, so we kept missing each other at the gym, but we texted each other a few times a day, usually just to tell each other random thoughts. It was really nice to have someone to do that with again. I didn’t feel alone anymore. Friday afternoon, I got a text from her.
I need to finish a financial risk assessment for a client tonight. Fun Friday night! :-( Circuit training tomorrow? Lunch after?
Not that I had anything on my calendar, anyway, but I was purposely keeping things clear in case she wanted to do something. I enjoyed the few days we’d spent hanging out. Even though it wasn’t the most comfortable topic, in the end, I had fun telling her about my past. I got a vicarious thrill at her amazement in the face of my—how should I put it?—nonspecific sexuality. I walked both sides of the line, but my desires had a tendency, like over the last couple of months, to get me into trouble, and Gemma seemed enthralled by my escapades. If I were honest with myself, her reactions gave me a thrill, too. She seemed turned on by the whole thing, and I liked turning her on. I had already decided I would tell her everything she wanted to know about me, and there was plenty more to say. I replied to her text.
“Sounds perfect. Ten?”
Nine thirty. I need to put in some extra work after this week.
“See you then!”
I read a book that night, had a glass of wine, and went to bed early. I knew that Gemma could go harder on the treadmill than I could—though I’d been stepping up my game since I met her—so if that was any indication, I imagined she’d be hard to keep up with on the circuit too.
Gemma’s idea of a circuit was different from mine. I usually broke my strength days into opposing muscle groups, like chest and back, or arms and shoulders. Gemma wanted to do everything. Squats, bench press, curls, lat pull-downs, you name it. I was pleased though—I could bench more than she could, and I could curl more too. She had me beat on lats and tricep pull-downs, and we repped the same weight on squats. After we went through all the stations she wanted to hit, we climbed on treadmills. This time, we ran side by side.
I set mine to seven and a half miles per hour to match Gemma. I was glad I’d been pushing myself because I was able to keep up with her for fifteen minutes. I reached up to cut my speed to seven, but Gemma thought I was increasing it, so she bumped hers up to eight. There was no way I could hang with that speed, so I just focused on my form and my breathing. Before I knew it, our thirty minutes were up, and we slowed to a walk for an extra five to cool down.
We wiped the machines down and went to the locker room. I grabbed my bag from my locker and was heading toward the showers when Gemma grabbed my hand. I instinctively laced my fingers in hers before I realized it. She didn’t seem to mind. For a second, I thought she wanted to shower together, and I
felt a thrill run through me.
“Let’s go back to my place. We can shower there. I have the stuff to fix for lunch.”
On the drive over, I kept wondering what she meant by “We can shower there.” I had that flash of a thought that she wanted to shower together at the gym, which would have been crazy—but hot as hell—and I was a little disappointed that wasn’t the case. But going back to her place—was she going to ask me to join her in the shower there? I would absolutely jump at that chance. I’d already had dreams about what I’d like to do to her body. But I couldn’t assume that was what she intended.
I was smart to not assume. Gemma poured me a glass of wine and showered first, then prepared lunch while I basked in her enormous shower. It felt like I was naked outdoors in a rainstorm, with the overhead showerheads washing the sweat from my body. I used her scented soap and lathered up as much of my body as I could reach. I was one big scrubbing bubble, and I loved it. After spending five minutes in that deluxe shower, the one I had at home would feel like being in a seedy hotel.
Speaking of my shower, I eyed the handheld unit on the far wall. It was identical to mine, and I couldn’t resist the temptation. I pulled it from its base and used it to rinse clean, then, as if this wasn’t my intention all along, I pushed it against my pussy. I felt the thrill of two dozen high-pressure streams of water touching my most sensitive flesh all at once. I knew this was inappropriate because it wasn’t my house, and Gemma hadn’t made any overt overtures toward me, but the image of the two of us showering together that had formed in my head while I followed Gemma to her house had built a need within me.
I reached down with my other hand and rubbed my clit, then slipped two fingers inside, moving them in and out, faster and faster. I wiggled the showerhead, sending the streams of water to different locations. I brushed my thumb over my button, and my knees buckled. I could feel an orgasm building.
Tell-Tale Hearts Page 6