3 comments/ 25807 views/ 9 favorites College Gameday Fling By: Trysten This is my second series. I kind of churned this section out so hopefully you'll enjoy. There may be more to come if the interest seems strong. I've got an outline for future entries. As always, I appreciate all feedback and/or criticism. ********** The little brats in the seats just weren't going to behave this afternoon. They were probably still not fully acclimated to school, because the summer break had only finished a few weeks ago. Actually, that's bullshit. These were seniors in high school. They should be able to sit in a classroom and not act completely retarded. "Ms. Thomas, why can't we just watch a video or something today?" "Ms. Thomas, I need to start mentally preparing for the game tonight, can't we just have study hall?" I just wanted to tell them to shut the fuck up and pay attention. I had prepared a lesson for the day and they were going to hear it. I teach American History to juniors and seniors at a suburban school in Georgia. Overall, they were good kids. I had some smart ones who would do well in life. But I had some real troublemakers. They were the kids who were peaking in life at 18 and gave no thought to their future. They also gave me tons of grief because of who I am. I'm the hot teacher, Jenna Thomas. I know that sounds conceited, but it's true. I'm 24 and have been teaching in the three years since I graduated from college. I keep myself fit, eat right, and have been blessed with good looks on a good body. I'm a 5'7" brunette with solid Cs. Normally, it's an advantage in life. In my profession, however, I have a hard time being taken seriously by a group of 18 year olds. And I'm not just talking about the boys -- even though they're bad. The girls give me some of the worst problems. They're catty and try to outshine me at every turn. Another major problem was the "Photo-gate" episode last year. One day, the principal called me into his office and we had to discuss why pictures of me were circulating among the student body. It turns out one of the kids found some pictures of me in a bikini at spring break from a few years ago on the internet. As I looked at the photos the principal had confiscated, I knew why he had to act. It was obviously me, and the bikini was really small and didn't leave much to the imagination. I suppose it's bad to say but I remembered that day and felt a rush of excitement. That trip in Cancun had gotten wild and was much more fun than anything I had done in a long time. I explained that I had no idea how the photos leaked; I had deleted my Facebook account to avoid situations exactly like this one. The administration was really nice about it and we got the situation resolved. But to a large extent, the damage was done. The fuel had been thrown on the fire and now I was the object of all the boys' fantasies. ***** I shut down the requests to have a day off and started my lesson about the development of the American political system. I always make a genuine effort to be engaging and not put the class to sleep. "Tim, can you explain why the Federalist Papers are important even today?" I asked. He sat at the back of the class, shyly, and looking blankly at the wall. When he realized that I was talking to him he clammed up and couldn't get a word out. This was typical. He normally blushed and rarely got a word out. He was a good kid who would blossom in college, but he was just a little awkward at the moment. I moved on to someone else and gradually the class moved along. After what seemed like a long time—even for me—the bell rang and signaled that the weekend had begun. I didn't have any plans, and I was pretty disappointed about that. I hadn't had a fun weekend in a long time. The prep work to start a new school year was mostly to blame, but even my summer hadn't been very exciting. How had I become such a loser? At that moment my phone rang. I looked down and saw that my college friend Ryan was calling. Weird, I hadn't spoken to him a while. "Hey Ryan!" "Hey Jenna. What are you up to? We haven't talked in a long time and I just wanted to check in." "I'm great. Started a new school year so things have been busy... but it's settling down now." "Sounds great. Things are good with me. The job is going great and still enjoy the city. The reason I'm calling is that I have this crazy idea to go to Carthage this weekend. I feel the need to go to a great tailgate. You're on the way, and I was wondering if you wanted to come along." Ryan and I went to a big football school in the SEC. Our team was undefeated so far and stood a solid chance of going to the national championship game. Ah, a weekend in Carthage may be just the thing for me. "I'd love to. Now that I think of it, I need a great tailgate too. When were you thinking of leaving?" "In a few hours. I haven't packed or anything. This is really a spur of the moment idea. At work today I was somehow able to get a hotel room and decided to go for it. How about I pick you up at your place at 7?" "Sounds perfect, I'll be ready. " ***** A few hours later Ryan and I were headed down the highway to Carthage. It was so exciting, because my weekend went from sounding boring to amazing. We chatted about what we had been up to in the years since school. Sure, we had seen each other, but there is something about a three hour road trip that really brings out the gossip. I learned all about his love life. It turns out that he was quasi dating some new girl from his work, but she couldn't make the trip this weekend. This was slightly awkward, because Ryan and I had hooked up a lot in college. It had been years since anything had happened, and I thought his call might have been a signal he was interested in reigniting something. After our conversation, however, it didn't seem that was the case at all. Another letdown. ***** The next morning—after a very uneventful night at the hotel—Ryan and I went to an alumni tailgate near the stadium. It was a 3:30 game, so everyone was naturally tailgating by 10am. And whoa, what a beautiful morning! It was the classic fall day. I was wearing my strapless, tight sundress (not too summer-y) that flairs at the skirt and shows off my cleavage and curves. It comes down just above my knees. It was perfect in the cool, but not too cold, fall weather. But the big buzzkill of the morning was the crowd; it wasn't doing it for me. The only people I knew were a bunch of condescending a-holes I barely remembered. "Wow Jenna, I don't think I've ever seen you this sober at a tailgate." After a while, these comments piled up and I was getting annoyed. Sure, I partied hard in college and had my fair share of flings, but people who I didn't know didn't need to be bringing that up. It was so frustrating! Ryan finally picked up on my annoyance and suggested we change locations to his old frat house. That sounded perfect. ***** We walked the two blocks to Ryan's old frat, and it brought back so many memories. The white-columned building with the greek letters hanging above the door had been the source of so many great memories in college. Late night dance parties, general drunkenness, and fantastic hookups. UH, I had really torn through the freshmen pledge class my sophomore year. Maybe that was the source of some of those douche alums giving me crap earlier. Oh well, I had a great time in my four years here. No regrets. And this party was so much more fun. There was an awesome band playing. There was a fun mix of young alums and current students chatting it up. Tables full of drinks and drinking games. Couches to lounge on. At about 11:30, Ryan asked me if I wanted to go inside and check out some of the pregame shows for the games that day. Sure. So we headed inside to Ryan's old room. And when we got there I realized some things never change. There was an old futon, posters, and beer cans that could have been there when Ryan lived there. The biggest difference was the TV. It was huge and amazing. We sat down on the futon and settled in watching the various shows predicting who would win and what players would be difference-makers. I know that I'm a girl and am not supposed to know or care about this stuff, but I do! A few minutes later a young guy walked in with a coat and tie on asking if we wanted any Hooch. This was obviously a pledge. "Yes, double, double Hooch on the double!" Ryan ordered. The kid quickly turned and walked away on a mission. To the uninitiated, that meant two double-sized drinks needed in a hurry. A few minutes later Ryan and I had two huge goblets (individual pitchers?) full of Hooch. Also for the uninformed, Hooch was a classic drink at Ryan's frat. Old alums remembered having it at their parties. Mmm. What was in this stuff? God knows. The recipe may not have changed in a hundred years. There were so many flavors you could barely tell there was alcohol in it. A lot of girls stayed away from it, because of the absurd amount of alcohol in it. But for those who went for it, we always ended having a great gameday. ***** About an hour later—and another order of Hooch—Ryan and I were laughing hysterically remembering the good ole times. We weren't alone though. People came and went in the old frat room, watching TV, and having some drinks. At about 12:30, another one of our rival's games came on. When that game started the room really filled up. Eventually, it was standing room only. Ryan left to go use the restroom and I was left to chat it up with the people around me. No worries. I was feeling a really good buzz and the social lubricant effect of the Hooch was really kickin in. It was actually more than a buzz, I was probably drunk. A few minutes later a really cute guy sat next to some girl with whom I was speaking. It was her boyfriend Chris. Chris was a sophomore swimmer and DAMN his body showed it. Tall and muscular, but still lean. We chatted it up and played the name game to show that I actually knew some of the people here. "Oh, there's my roommate Mike," Chris said. ***** FUCK Standing before me was Mike Chisolm, one of my former students. He was a senior my first year of teaching, and I didn't know him very well. I didn't even know he ended up coming to school here, let alone joining the frat where I knew (slash fucked) a lot of people. And here I was sitting on his futon drinking my third goblet of Hooch and starting to get drunk. "Ms. Thomas?" Mike muttered with a shocked look on his face. "Well good morning Mike," was all I could muster. I tried to act as straight as possible, but I knew that no matter how much talking I did I couldn't get out of this. "Do y'all know each other?" some voice called out—who it was, I didn't care at the moment. "We certainly do," was all I could summon. For some reason, the words emerging from my mouth were tinged in the high sexuality of my feelings. I certainly remembered Mike. If I was the hot teacher that every student wanted to fuck, then Mike was the hot young stud that every teacher wanted to ravish. He was gorgeous. Tall. Thin. Muscular. Crazy smart. Great personality. Leader. And a swimmer if I remember. He was only two years out of high school, and here he was standing in front of me in his own room looking amazing. My defenses melted down and I envisioned myself riding his cock. AH. The thought of riding some random—NO, not random—but riding a FORBIDDEN cock seemed so tantalizing! Wasn't that against the law? Surely no. He wasn't my student any more. He was 19 or 20 years old—definitely age of majority—and that surely meant it was fine. He hadn't been my student for several years and there was no position of authority. Keep justifying it to yourself you slut... ***** "Oh, we've known each other for a little while," he said. I think he was trying to deflate the situation, which was sweet, but the cat was certainly out of the bag. "Ms. Thomas..." "Jenna, you know to call me Jenna," was all I could cut him off with to diminish the embarrassment I was feeling. "Of course," he said. "I'm really glad you made it to the house this weekend. We really have a fun few days lined up." "I'm sure you do." It's the only thing I could say. I was too stunned for words. My brain was trying to catch up from the situation currently in front of me: On one level, I was just a gal in a building on campus that could leave at any moment and nothing would be said. On the other hand, however, here I was, drunk, in a semi-risqué dress on the futon of a former student! I decided a retreat may be needed, so I stood up and walked out of the room. "I'm gonna go look for my friend." If you're sitting and drinking for a long time the effects don't really hit you, right? Well, as soon as I had taken two steps the full effects of the alcohol slammed my brain. I wobbled a little on my feet, nothing too bad. I paced through all the hallways, the dining room, the outside, and I still couldn't find Ryan. Did that asshole leave me here? No way, he totally subscribed to the wingman theory and wouldn't leave a girl behind. None the less, I couldn't find him. Knowing nowhere else to go, I decided to go to the last place where he'd seen me: Mike's room. When I came back some of the faces had changed by they were largely the same. Another problem was that there were no seats. Before I knew it Mike was yelling, "Pledge, give me some more Hooch! And Jenna, if you want to you can sit on the armrest right here. Someone will probably be getting up in a few minutes." I considered the proposal and decided that it was the only real choice I had. I slowly eased my ass down on the cold, iron, circular armrest that seems standard on these futons. Instantly, the physical discomfort of the position hit me. Damn, this wasn't going to work. "Just focus on the game on the TV and wait for Ryan," I told myself. The one positive thing that happened at that moment was that the pledge reentered with some Hooch and handed it straight to me. Oh, I guess Mike had ordered it for me. I was glad of it and also a little afraid. This had been, what, my fourth goblet? That's a lot and probably needed to slow down. Oh, well. Fuck it. After about ten minutes my constant shifting and squirming on that armrest must have been both obvious and awkward. Mike put his arm around my waist and told me that I could scoot down and sit on his lap. That slight touch was electric, so I didn't hesitate. Immediately, I shifted my ass and sat on the edge of his legs. I kept telling myself that I still needed to be proper: sit straight, legs crossed, and don't slip down too close to him. ***** It immediately became apparent, however, that this was an incredible turn on. The room was filled with so many conversations that I had to constantly shift and turn to either answer questions or look at who was talking. With each movement, my pussy was slipping, sliding, shifting, or swiveling its way to getting really wet! There was nothing I could do. Mike definitely sensed this. Every so often, he'd put both hands on my waist and ask me to get up for a second while he shook his legs to get some blood flow. Those moments where I wasn't in direct contact with him seemed agonizing, because by this point the heat between my legs was beginning to take total control. Shit! Was that the Hooch talking? I have no idea. My mind was getting pretty foggy with the insatiable lust coursing through my body at the moment. Sure, he was a former student, and that's probably what really made me really wet. One other result of Mike's leg shifts was that I'd slip a little further down his lap each time. I had started this whole thing barely clinging to his knee, but after only a few minutes I was half way down his leg. My back would certainly touch his chest if I leaned back a little. So that's what I did, I just leaned back and put my back into his chest. Ah, this was so much more comfortable! There wasn't any more tension in my back and it took a little pressure off my ass. It was perfect. Mike head could look right over my left shoulder and see everyone in the room just fine. Something else Mike could now see was my overflowing cleavage. His face was now only inches away with a bird's eye view. My dress was strapless and very low cut, and the way I was hunched it really pushed the girls up and made them appear to be bubbling out of my dress. I could tell his eyes were glued to them. Knowing his imagination was running amok thinking about my tits, it was making me positively boil. But there was something missing. That's when I realized I actually missed pressuring all my weight through my sex into his body. Just like creating a diamond, that shifting, but constant, pressure had formed the beginning of an orgasm deep within me. And now it was absent. To compensate, I began sliding down his leg while still leaning back. When I got too low, I'd pull myself back up. To anyone watching, it just looked like I was just shifting every now and then, but to Mike and I it was a dry hump, albeit on a more geologic timetable. ***** After several minutes of the relatively tame grinding, I pulled my "readjustment" move. This time, however, Mike also repositioned himself, so when I sat back down on his lap I for the first time felt his hard cock running down his leg. It must have been tucked away somewhere before this. It formed a beautiful ridgeline down his leg, and I put my ass right on top of it. Even through my dress and his pants were in the way, I could feel it's subtleties as I started my next slide down. I was lost in it now. My inhibitions were quickly leaving me. I had no awareness of the people or things around me anymore. I only registered Mike's stimuli. His cock sliding in between my legs. His hand slowly massaging my hip and working down to my ass. His hot breath hitting me where my neck meets my shoulder and flowing down to my tits. All of a sudden everyone in the room stood up and cheered. It turns out everyone else really was watching the game. Our bitter rival had thrown a pick 6 to lose the game. Joy abounds. As Mike and I stood up to seem a part of the group, we gave each other a knowing look that this train he left the station and there wasn't anything that was going to stop it. For some reason, people began talking to Mike and cutting him off from me. Fuck! What were these people doing? Wasn't this obvious? Kids these days must be completely oblivious to the cockblock. I got a little hissy and decided now would be a good time to go to the bathroom. The ladies' room was just down the hall and I settled down in my stall to pee. I had drunk a ton and I suppose this was long overdue, so it took a while. While I was in there, I could overhear to two girls standing at the sinks gossiping away. "Oh my, did you see that girl sitting on Mike's lap? She was giving him an open invite." Bitch. "Be quiet. She didn't have anywhere else to sit. I actually thought she was really pretty." Clever girl, and she must not have picked up on my slow-slide dry fuck. As I stood up to pull my thong up, I said fuck it and stepped out of it. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do this right. When I picked it up I was glad I took it off. They were saturated with my juices so they were already going to be a liability. But where can I put them? I don't have my bag with me... I never take than along on gameday. It's just one more thing to lose. Trash can it is. Those weren't that expensive anyway. ***** Reentering Mike's room filled me with a sense of anticipation I hadn't felt in such a long time. Being a little conservative teacher for so long had really suppressed the animal instincts I had cultivated in this very house. Now that I was back, it seemed those impulses returned. Rather than even attempt to find another seat, I sat right back down on Mike's lap. No one really had a surprised look about this, because everyone seemed to be sitting in more or less the same seats. The person who did have the surprised look on his face was Mike, because when I sat down I positioned my skirt so that my bare ass and pussy were sitting right on his crotch. I couldn't be sure, but in that instantaneous moment of my skirt falling back down to rest he could have seen my wet sex descending down to him. College Gameday Fling Ch. 02 This is the second story in the "College Game Day Fling" series. I recommend reading the first installment to understand the context and characters. As always, I appreciate all feedback and/or criticism. ********** "Unhhhh...?..." My own sigh woke me up. It wasn't a contented sigh; instead, it was an involuntary expression of an incredibly bad feeling pervading my body. My eyes were still closed, but somehow I could feel the light in the room penetrating my eyelids. After only a few seconds, a massive headache sank in. There was no way I was even going to try to open my eyes for a few minutes. It was chilly in the room where I began to wake up, so I made a move to pull some covers over me to warm my chilled core. I flailed around the bed looking for sheets or a comforter for about five seconds before realizing I probably wasn't going to find any. By that point I'd felt all four corners of the bed. The only thing apparently on the bed was me, so I decided to just continue lying there. Then another sensation registered. Rather than having a nice cotton fitted sheet, I could feel the smooth, cold, clingy plastic-covering of a cheap mattress under me. Damn, where the hell was I? I still didn't dare open my eyes, because I could somehow tell the room was brightly lit. If a sunny window was the first thing I saw this morning, my optic nerve would deliver the spark that would cause my brain to explode. Holy shit, this has to be a record hangover. My thoughts were literally pounding with the headache that had settled into my skull. I could feel my heartbeat from the pulses of pain in my temples and down into the deeper lobes of my brain. And it wasn't just my head. My body was achy all over: from the muscles in my legs and arms, down my neck, and Damn it was sore between my legs! As the pain caused me to become more aware of my arms, legs, and whole body, I came to another realization: I was completely naked. I normally sleep with some panties on and maybe a t-shirt, but this morning all I felt was a vinyl, waterproof mattress underneath me. To check, I ran my hands down the outside of my hips and thighs. There weren't the familiar lacy sides of the boy shorts I normally wear to bed. I brought my hands up to my chest and cupped my tits with my hands. The instant my palms applied pressure to my erect nipples, I could feel the sting of flesh made raw by some kind of friction. Oh shit, what had I done? I curled up into a ball and started to panic a little. Between the headache, the chill of lying naked on an unmade, strange bed, and a foggy recollection of having made some serious mistakes, my mind shut down and returned back to sleep. ********** God knows how many hours, minutes, or seconds later I woke up for a second time. Even though my mind wasn't operating at full capacity, I remembered all of the things I had figured out earlier. 1) I was naked. 2) I was sore all over my body. 3) I was lying on a bare mattress. Alright Jenna, time to wake up. I slowly began opening my eyes to let the light in. Rather than focusing on any singular image, my brain only registered pure white light for a few seconds. Slowly, after squinting and giving my pupils a chance to compensate, the room began to come into focus. Around me was a bare room. There were no posters on the walls, no furniture, and no rug on the ground. The only thing apart from the bed—which was situated in the middle of the room—was the door leading out somewhere and a window letting in the sunshine. Based on the look and condition of the hardwoods, I knew that this had to be the frat house where I'd gone yesterday for game day. Memories of the afternoon began trickling back, especially the good ones. I remember grinding on Mike's lap for a while before I finally let him fuck me in front of a few of his friends. Unhh, I can't believe I did that. It had to have been the Hooch. Strike that. I knew it was the Hooch. During college, I drank it tons of times, and I did some pretty crazy things. But damn, nothing like fucking a guy (and former student to boot) in front of strangers. Everything that happened had happened after starting to drink that stuff. Everything that happened? Using the word "everything" I knew was stupid. My memory was so fuzzy. I think I remember some talk of a band party. But I didn't stay for the band last night, did I? Think Jenna! I did remember the unbelievable high I got from the physical interaction with Mike. God, it had overtaken me. All my inhibitions and social controls had completely disappeared. Just the memory of the climaxes I'd experienced in the afternoon reminded me how besotted I'd been with his cock. And now that I wasn't drunk anymore the guilt/shame/fear swept over me like a wave. What if my school found out? I would probably lose my job. And if you lose your job over that kind of scandal as a teacher, you can kiss your chance of getting hired anywhere else goodbye. Trying to piece together the sequence of events eventually became futile. I simply couldn't remember anything that had happened after I fucked Mike. Well, I guess I do remember chugging a couple of big cups of Hooch; then I blacked out hard. ***** I knew at that point I had to temporarily stop worrying about the past and focus on my next move. I sat up in the room and looked around again. And again, there was absolutely nothing. It was at that point I looked down at myself. Holy Fuck! My tits were covered in hickies and my nipples looked like they'd been rubbed raw. As I looked farther down my body my body I saw the evidence of the thing that really scared me—there was dry cum and juices covering the inside of my thighs. I rubbed along my thighs trying brush it off, and I found that there was a lot of work to be done. I was covered. My very small bush was crusty with the stuff. As I passed my hand past my clit and down the folds of my lips, there were some faint feelings of pain. It seems my pussy had taken quite a beating. For some reason I kept moving my hand down and around my body. When it came to my ass I found that it too was sore and raw to the touch. Alright, now was the time I had to start worrying about what exactly happened here. I started to sob and put my face in my hands trying to stave off the tears. That failed to have the comforting effect I'd hoped, because when I brought my hands to my face my fingertips felt the crusty remains of cum on my face and her as well. I tried to run my fingers through my hair and had to stop. The individual hairs were so coated together that if I pulled my fingers through too hard it was going to rip from my scalp. ***** ESCAPE. That thought registered in my mind and I knew that it was the best thing to do in that moment. The realization that I was naked and covered in cum meant that this place may not be safe for a lot of reasons. First, I still didn't know if I'd been attacked. I don't think that's the case, but I don't know. Second, if this was just a ridiculous night, then I still needed to get out of here to avoid detection. The longer a naked, cum-covered slut hung around a place like this the greater the chance trouble would come around (again?). Impossibly, the moment I thought of myself as a naked, cum-covered slut, a shudder of pleasure ran through my wracked body. Tiny flashbacks of memories started to trickle into my consciousness, but not enough to make out anything decipherable. Just a quick vision in my mind's eye of cocks being shoved in my face. A line of drugs? And a face that I recognized but knew was out of place. I swayed as I stood up, my muscles trying to balance my upright body. It felt like there was battery acid coursing through my thighs from how sore my muscles were. The last time I'd felt this, I'd run a half marathon the day before. If I can run a half marathon, then I can take a step. So I ventured my first step away from the bed and felt the first small victory of the day. With how impossibly bad I felt, at least I could move. My next problem was finding some clothes. What happened to my dress and underwear from yesterday? I remembered I had worn that cute sundress that really showed off my cleavage and frilled just above my knees. I hoped to see it again; I loved that dress! But there was nothing around me! Nothing. Not a shirt, a newspaper, or a trash bag. In college, I'd done some things that showed off my body—some flashing at spring break, physical teasing, and sported some tiny workout clothes—but never just bare assed prancing around a frat house. I knew that I'd have to venture out into the world to find some way to cover myself up. I slowly opened the door and peeked outside. I saw the small hallway that I knew to be the third floor of the fraternity house. There were only about eight rooms up on this level, and the hallway wasn't nearly as long as the second floor where most of the guys had their rooms. And like my small little room, there wasn't anything strewn about the floor that could provide me with cover. The coast seemed clear, however, so I slipped into the well-lit hallway trying to cover myself with my hands as best I could. I had my right forearm and hand covering my breasts as much as they could be covered. My left hand was cupped in between my legs. Ass exposed. As my mind settled a little bit, I remembered that sometimes the rooms upstairs weren't occupied full time and served as hook up rooms during events. Ok, it had to have been one of those where I woke up. Anywho, I did know guys lived up here, and I decided to check the other rooms for stuff to wear. There had to be things lying around. And if I opened the door and someone saw me naked...well one person was better than a hundred. I came upon the first door and tried to turn the knob. Fuck, it was locked. I never knew the doors around this place to be locked. The second, locked. Third, locked. And so on all the way down the hallway. Hell, even the bathroom that was on this floor at the far side of the corridor was locked. Each step farther down the hallway enhanced the feeling that something was weird here. Normally, the day after a frat band party the halls were alive with guys telling conquering hero stories, girls getting heckled as they did the walk of shame, and pledges cleaning up the ridiculous amounts of trash that accumulated at one of those events. Even with my hangover, my senses seemed to be on high alert. I began to smell the remnants of mop cleaning solution, like this place had been mopped not too long ago. The bottoms of my feet registered that the floors were incredibly clean. That couldn't be right in a frat house? This scene had been staged, and I was on display. But there were no people! ***** I tiptoed down the stairs to the next level, because I'd exhausted my options on the third floor. What normally was subtle creaking in the wood was now seemed loud in a very quiet house with nothing in the hallway to diminish its echo. Each step brought new fear that every door would open and discover me in this disheveled condition. And like the third floor, I noticed that it was utterly bare like the top floor. Nothing. No trash, cardboard boxes, or empty cans. This exposure, this fear of being discovered was really beginning to have an effect on me. As I leaned down and around the bannister looking down another flight of stairs to check to see if there were people, I could feel my nipples hardening and beginning to bore into my arm that was trying to mask them from the world. I could immediately notice the other physical effects of that arousal, because my left hand nestled in between my legs supplied some wicked sensations to my already sensitive mound. Even though I should have been more afraid for myself, my body began to betray itself and was getting really aroused. I could feel the heat flowing between my legs and the humidity was certainly rising down there. As I descended the final step onto the second floor, I realized how many people could be potentially seeing me right now. This hallway was long and had a right-angled turn ahead to the stairs going to the ground floor, and there were about twenty rooms that could each hold two guys. In an instant, a hundred people could emerge from these doors if they wanted to. There were easily that many people at any given moment yesterday. Slowly, I began checking each one of the doors on the second floor. Also like the third floor, each room was locked. To check the door knobs to see if they were locked I had to take my arm off my breasts, and those small moments were exhilarating. The open air seemed to caress my naked breasts and provided a wonderful physical stimulus. Internally, the thought of utterly exposing my naked, soiled body became more engaging. Wait, No! I couldn't let my mind give in to my body like that. That's what got me in trouble yesterday. The Hooch I drank had taken all my senses away and now I was in this predicament. Renewing my focus, I sped up my check of the doors on the hall. And each door came back with the same result: locked. In less than a minute, I checked the twenty doors and made my way down the entire length of the hallway. Even though that meant I'd made physical progress, I realized I had made zero practical progress. I was still completely naked, and the only place to go now was to the main floor! That option terrified me, because there were huge doors, tons of windows, and a myriad ways anyone could catch me this exposed. Unlike the upper floors that were mostly limited to the frat brothers on non-game days, the main floor was a hotbed of activity. They had study lounges, TV rooms, and the kitchen. But what choice did I have? I couldn't escape out the window of my room on the third floor. I couldn't just hole up in there either. I had to get a ride back home with Ryan. Oh God, Ryan! I caught a ride to Carthage with him two days ago. I didn't have my cell or any way to contact him. Would he wait for me? How was I going to get home? I had to be at work at 7:30 the next morning, and it was god-knows-what time right now. ***** As my worry about how I would get home preoccupied my thoughts, I somehow managed to get to the bottom of the stairs. I was crouching very low and still covering my naked body. At the base of the stairs was the main entrance where the large front doors to the fraternity were. Luckily, it seemed empty and the door closed. I thought about just running out the front door to escape this hell, but I knew that probably was a dumb idea. I had to get some kind of covering, and the best chance of that had to be on this floor. As I snuck up to the front window to take a quick glimpse outside, my eyes registered the most improbably bad sight possible: a TV crew right in the front lawn. There was a sharp-looking female journalist with a microphone, a cameraman pointing the large camera right at the front of the house, and a young guy being interviewed. I couldn't quite hear what they were talking about, but I wasn't about to stand there to find out. I was too exposed. Good thing I didn't blindly run out the front to escape! I spun my head around and I remembered the door down to the basement. The basement was where the public parties were held. That's where the bar and band rooms were located. Even if there wasn't something I could cover myself with, there was at least a corner or cubby where I could hide. My thoughts had diverted from escaping. Now I was terrified of detection. If that camera crew from the local news got a shot of me, my career and life would be over. I quickly slipped through the door down to the basement. Oh god thank you. I realized this was the first unlocked door I'd encountered this whole morning. I shut it behind me and was standing in the relative darkness at the top of the stairs. For the first time I somehow believed I'd reached a place of safety. I crouched down and sobbed for a few moments. Wait, Jenna. Get up and keep going. You're far from safe. Realizing that I still had to act quickly and get out of there, I made my way down the stairs. I began to hope the camera crew wouldn't come inside to do some scoop about the inside of the house. But why would they do that? Oh, I don't know...a teacher snooping around a frat house naked where her ex students were living. Hadn't I seen that on Lifetime? I had to purge that kind of paranoia from my mind and just keep going. Slowly, I made my way down the long flight of stairs until I reached the basement. ***** The first room at the base of the stairs in the frat basement was an entertainment room. There were a lot of couches arranged in stadium seating around a very large TV. This is obviously where the guys hung out to watch games, movies, or shows. After a quick scan and not seeing anything that I could use to cover myself, I began moving to the next room. But at my final glimpse of the room something stood out. Right in front of the TV was a large red bow with a card. I had pretty good vision but from this distance I couldn't quite make out what it said. I decided to investigate, and as I got closer I was able to make out what the card said. Right on the front of the card in large, well-written script was my name, "Jenna." Obviously, someone had designed me to see this. I quickly opened the card to see what was written inside. The words frightened me beyond measure. It read: Dear Jenna, All of the brothers of the fraternity would like the thank you for attending our Game Day celebration. In honor of your visit, we made a highlight tape to commemorate a truly memorable day. Please be our guest and be the first to view this titillating movie experience. Once you've seen enough for your satisfaction, please let us know and we'll ensure you make it home safe and sound. Your phone is on the couch. Love, Your intimate friends I immediately started bawling. There was no other way to take this news. Obviously, this tape was going to contain fifty times more material than it would take to get me fired and never find another teaching position. I mean, I woke up naked covered in cum! What the hell else could be on this video? As I thought about that, the events of the morning began to become clear. All those rooms weren't locked for no reason. The guys were steering me in this direction...down to the basement...driving me like a piece of cattle through the gates of a slaughterhouse. ***** With a defeated attitude, I sat down on the couch and cried some more. I looked down and saw my phone sitting right next to a remote. There was a post-it on the remote. It simply said, "Just press play." I thought about ignoring their twisted demand and just taking my phone and getting the hell out of there, but I knew I couldn't do that. I had to see exactly what was on that tape so I knew the extent of calamity I would have to deal with. Overcome with a sense of impending doom, I just pushed play. The screen and speakers came to life. On the screen, there was a large shot of the house from across the street with hundreds of people milling around. A narrator began, "Here we are on a beautiful fall day in Carthage about to see our team win the day, but that's not the whole story. We at the Frat have something else in store for your viewing pleasure. We present to you our first entry in the Frat Sluts series." As soon as he said that, it cut to a picture of my face covered in cum. In a clear but obviously drunk voice I said, "I just want to fuck the whole frat!" Oh. my. god. Just the first twenty seconds was enough to get me fired. What in the world was on the rest of this tape? And how had it come to that yesterday? And shit that was a lot of cum on my face! I know I had flashes of slutty brilliance in college, but it was quite another thing to be covered in cum and talk to a camera! College Gameday Fling Ch. 02 Then the tape cut to a video of my backside. Specifically, it was me in my dress walking down the stairs to the basement. I was moving through a crowd of people to get down there, and in the background there was loud music playing. This had to have been at the height of the party, because when I got to the bottom of the stairs (into the room where I was currently sitting) there were tons of people dancing. The next minute or so of the video was a montage of scenes of general tomfoolery: people dancing, bartenders serving, girls and guys playing drinking games, and ended with me on my knees funneling a whole goblet of Hooch. My skirt was riding up and my cleavage was overflowing out of my low-cut dress. I saw myself turn around, point to the cameraman, and beckon him closer. The narrator's voice reemerged, "Gentleman, meet our friend Jenna. She's an alumna. She just loves the frat and misses being its slut, so she came back! This video is an homage to her and the girls like her we see every weekend." ***** How had the guys put this together so quickly? Did they have a damn videographer on retainer? Was I unlucky enough to pick the one weekend where some seedy porn guy happened to be allowed in their party? ***** I didn't have time to think about the answer to that question, because the next scene showed some son of a bitch interviewer with the biggest douche-Jersey-shore accent ever asking Mike questions. The guy was streaming questions like, "So you fucked her earlier.?. in front of ya bros? She's fahckin hot isn't she? She was a slut for this frat a few years ago? And since then she was your high school teacher?" Mike to his credit was trying to avoid the questions. He was telling the guy with the camera to back off and leave me alone. I was not that surprised that I showed up in the camera's frame as it panned a little to the right. Mike was near me in the midst of a lot of people, and I was the center of attention. There were several obvious reasons for this: first, the top of my dress was hanging so low that I was sure that any moment both my nipples would pop into view; second, I was laughing and screaming incredibly loud; and third, I was letting all sorts of guys grab me all over my body. To my left and right guys around me were grabbing my ass and rubbing my chest. The amazing part may have been they didn't just lift up my skirt or pull down my dress outright. It was incredibly debauched, but there was still no public nudity on the tape. ***** From there the footage broke to the band playing in full swing and the dance floor filled with people. I didn't see myself for a few seconds and thought the movie was going to try to show that there was more than one attractive girl at the party that night. And yes, the camera did pan by some girls that were pretty cute, but then the movie cut to a feed from the bar. Somehow, I was standing behind the bar in charge of handing out beers to the whole party. At the particular bar I was controlling, there was no liquor, only beer. Literally, the only thing I was serving were cans of light beers. That is the only reason why I was successful, because I was obviously too drunk to properly pour any person any type of actual drink. As the footage clung to me passing out Natty Lites, Bud Lites, and PBRs, I sat on the couch and wondered why on Earth this supposedly porn-y video was still keeping track of me. I suppose the cameraman just had faith that I was eventually going to do something utterly debauched and that in and of itself would justify his lens' attention. I'm sorry to say that his patience paid off. After a minute or two of me passing out beers to guys and girls stopping by the bar, the crowd eventually picked up on the fact that I was down to do more than just pass out beers. The final straw was the fact that the bin I was drawing from was running low on beers. It was a large and deep trash can-like tub filled with ice, water, and (some) beers. The deeper I sunk my arms in to grab beers the closer my chest and dress came to getting drenched. Well, as you guessed it, I eventually had to dip down so far that my tits had to dip in the watery ice to get the beers at the bottom. That really opened up the floodgates. After grabbing about five in that fashion, the crowd around my bar mushroomed to triple the normal number of people. The cameraman's focus was beginning to be rewarded, because the thin dress I was wearing was beginning to stick directly to my skin and show off the curves of my body. Nothing was being left to the imagination. I obviously didn't have a bra on. My nipples were reacting violently with the ice cold water and were sticking out as if reaching out for help. My areolas are just about the same shade as the skin around them, but the thin, light-colored material that supposedly covered them was betraying that fact and just about the entire world knew exactly what was under my dress. That's when the chant began. "Show Your Tits!" It started with three or four guys. Then more people piped in. Then you could hear a bunch of girls' voices in the din of the crowd. "Show your Tits!" Even with the rock-n-roll blaring in the background, it was a little hard to hear anything else. Then the song that was playing wound down, and the applause from the crowd appreciating the band's solid performance changed its focus to the chant near the bar—the one directed at me. That chant was picking up and demanding the slut behind the bar to, "Show your Tits!" Then the whole band room—of a hundred people who probably couldn't even see me—began shouting "Show your Tits!" Watching this on screen was incredibly difficult for my "good girl" sensibility to watch, but it was certainly not too much for the drunk-off-her-ass girl being shouted at by the entire party. I watched myself on the TV as I tugged my dress down to my belly button and let my Ds bounce out in the open. Unabashedly, I gave the raucous crowd a stripper shake of my chest that caused my tits to bounce all around in their new-found freedom. As a coup de grace, I saw myself bend down and grab about four beers from the icy bin and throw them to the crowd. The water shimmered off my tits as ran down my body. My nipples were as erect as they could get, and the smile on my face demonstrated how incredibly turned on I was at that moment. The cold also made my skin turn a little pink and furthered the impression that I was I was turned on and hot rather than near hypothermic. If my smile didn't prove the elation of the moment, the clamor of the audience certainly did. The place fucking erupted. The cameraman couldn't keep his lens completely on me because the crowd was cheering and jumping up and down and side to side. There wasn't even any music playing. For a few moments all you could see on the video was a mass of people roiling in every direction and clamoring much louder than when the band, with their amplifiers, were blaring at full blast. The next thing I could see of me on the screen was the lead singer of the band taking a beer from me, popping the top, and chugging it. He slammed the empty can on the ground, grabbed me low on my waist and pulled me towards him. Without hesitation, we began a passionate kiss. He hugged me tight and my pillowey breasts overflowed around chest. He lifted me up and my ass was perilously close to peeking from below my skirt it was raised so high. As quickly as he'd picked me up, the singer let me down. "Long live the fucking frat!!!" he yelled. Pandemonium. ***** The camera cut to a frantic scene of the cameraman trying to follow a group of us as we headed up the stairs. Every few seconds I could hear my voice somewhere in the background yelling some kind of encouragement to a group. There were a lot of "Fuck yeas!" Then I saw myself, tits bared to the world, being led up the stairs by the lead singer of the band. He was a very classically-rock n roll dressed guy: tight pants with some kind of intricately designed shirt that opened in the front to expose most of his chest. He was hot. I had to give him that. ***** But as I huddled naked in a frat basement watching this documentary on a jumbo screen, it realized how surreal it was to witness something that had already happened to me, but was somehow something new. I didn't remember any of this. In my fully conscious, non-inebriated normal state I would never parade through a crowd of people with my dress pulled down. I've done some skanky things in my past, but those times were just there...in my past. Or that's what I told myself, because even though I don't remember what happened, I knew exactly where this situation was going. I knew that the girl walking up the stairs was just as turned on as the naked girl huddled in the frat basement the next morning. My body's sense of anticipation seemed to be ramping up in perfect synchronization with the girl on the screen. And it matched because we were the same person. That may sound obvious, but it was more revealing than what may meet the eye. The "sober" girl who had all her faculties about her was getting just as turned on as the wasted, naked girl getting led up the stairs by an oversexed rock n roller. They had the same desires: namely, to be led up the stairs and ravaged. ***** The video jumped to the cameraman passing through the doorway into a dimly lit room. The room was bare and seemed to just have a bed right in the middle. There were no decorations on the wall, and there was nothing on the floor. The only thing in the room besides the rocker and me was a bare bed with a bare mattress in the middle. The camera zoomed in as we began our second fierce make-out session of the night. I was still completely topless, because the top of my dress was pushed down around my waist. I didn't seem to care who saw me or what the lead singer wanted to do later. Everyone who would ever look at this video would know what this girl wanted to do: fuck. ***** Slowly, the douche/hot-rocker put his hands behind my head and began to pressure it down toward his waist. As I sunk farther down his waist, I knew that his video was about to enter into the meatier section of the porn world. My porn alter ego was not hesitating. With both of his hands using continuous downward pressure on the back of my head, I saw myself undoing his belt, then the button, and finally the zipper to his pants. Once I'd freed those constraints (although not without some drunken clumsiness), I began to pull down his leather pants. [Oh my god, the guy had leather pants on. I should shoot myself just for that.] He didn't seem to have on any semblance of underwear, because the second his pants got low enough, his fully erect cock snapped out of his pants and hit me in face. I loved it. I could see it in my eyes that I loved having his exposed dick waving around my face. It was a cupcake to a fat kid. ***** [What happened next changed my life forever.] Next, he stepped out of his pants, and rather than just toss them to the side of the room, he reached for something that was in one of his pockets. As his hand emerged from his pocket, I could see him holding a small vial of something. Quickly and with assurance, he took the cap off began pouring some kind of powder on his erect cock. "Sniff it," was all he said to me. The look in my eyes didn't betray any hesitation. I extended my tongue and ran it the length of the bottom of his cock and finished by taking a good portion of the head in my mouth to play with. I bobbed up and down on the head for a few strokes when I disengaged, looked back up at him directly in the eyes, then proceeded to put my nose at the back of his cock and snort every bit of powder that was along the way. The cameraman got the whole shot perfectly. And damn, there had been a good amount of powder on his cock, afterwards there was nothing. Nothing except my mouth that filled the void a few seconds later. I took his whole six to seven inch cock in my mouth and started to bob up and down on it for about a minute. "Uh, what was that I took?" I asked. "I feel fucking AMAZING!" He answered that it was his own blend of herbs and spices. When I pressed him further he said Colonel Sanders didn't reveal his special recipe and neither would he. I just kept sucking his dick. As I got more and more into the act, he started fondling my tits and body more and more. After a few minutes, I got up off my knees and tried to unzip the back of my dress. I was having some difficulty, because I was really fucked up at this point from the booze and drugs. But again, the cameraman caught the scene perfectly: out of the darkness a random pair of hands came up behind me, unzipped my dress, and yanked it down to the floor. I took two steps out of the dress and presented my completely naked body to everyone in the room. They had to have been several people in the room, because a small cheer erupted. ***** "This is so surreal." I saw the myself of a few hours ago completely reveling in the exhibitionist joy of being naked in front of a group...and a camera. And sure to form, my present-state body, naked and sitting on a couch in the basement of the very same house, began to physically react to the images on the screen. The girl's confidence and pleasure on the screen seemed to be more and more my own, and I wanted them to be. Slowly, I began to have shared memories with that girl. Memories that relished the full carnal pleasures of what I knew was about to occur. But there was also some shred of doubt that seemed to try to perpetually break through my memory. When I my last night's self turn to the camera and start to rub my pussy openly and flagrantly, I started doing the same on the couch. It was like the drunk-and-high me was reaching through time to my current, sober self to say that I didn't need to be terrified; instead, I should just use it as an excuse to get off again. My fingers' movement over my puffed up lips told me that my lips were still a little tender, but the incredibly sensations of new contact vastly outweighed any pain. ***** The rock singer seemed to have had enough of the wonderful blow job I had bestowing upon him up to that point, and he pushed me back on the bed. Without hesitation, I opened my legs as he climbed up the bed himself and mounted me. He took his cock in his hand and began rubbing the tip up and down my slit. I was already as wet as I needed to be, and this seemed to be more of a taunt than a legitimate effort at foreplay. "JUST FUCK ME! PLEASE," I yelled! "Not yet slut, I'm having too much fun." He continued to squeeze my nipples and rub his cock all over my clit trying to get a rise out of me. And it was working. I was boiling over. I was moaning, panting, screaming, massaging my own tits, and using my hands to try to bring his cock into me. Everything you would expect to see on a girl who was out of her mind with physical pleasure as well as some unknown chemical cocktail. Finally and without warning, he drove home with his cock in one confident, powerful thrust. It shouldn't have been a surprise, but it was. It turned out to be foreplay after all! Following his initial invasion, be began a rhythmic assault on my pussy that didn't stop or break form for several minutes. From the outset, I was into it. I wasn't some dead fish laying there taking the pounding, my hips were bucking back against his pelvic thrusts attempting to give as well as I got. My hands were on his ass and hips clutching him to bring him farther and deeper into me. My mouth was demanding he do the vilest things imaginable to my body. ***** Sitting in the basement room I was actually proud of myself. Some hot girls get a lot of shit about sex, because they're bad in bed because they can be. Guys will always fuck them, and they don't need to build any technique. Not me. I could tell that by his reaction and the reaction of everyone in the room that I was something special. You could actually hear side conversations on the tape of the onlookers. "Holy shit, this girl is a fucking machine, literally!" "She doesn't give a fuck there's a bunch of us watching." "Man, I hope she's got more in the tank than just one asshole lead singer." More than the conversations, the camerawork was actually really impressive. There were a lot of whole-bed shots where you could see the two of us going at it. Then the cameraman would take some steps forward and get super-tight close-ups of the rocker's cock moving in and out of my pussy. I could see my creamy-white juices smothering his cock, lubricating his assault on my pussy that I was obviously loving. My favorite may have been the close ups of my perky Ds shaking with the pounding. No surgeon can recreate the natural fuck-jiggle of D-sized tits rockin and rollin. Finally, the camera would back off and give a view of the whole room. You could see the shaded outlines of about ten dudes milling around the periphery of the room. No one had there cocks out, but you could tell the general mood of the outside circle was fully loaded for action. At the first mention of potential pussy, I guarantee any one of them would have grabbed the sexual baton and taken their turn using my body. ***** After maybe ten minutes, we flipped over and I took the position on top. His cock never exited me, so I didn't have to ease down on it. I just kept the rhythm going as we turned. Once on top, I was able to really get my hips involved in the action. I bucked back and forth and rode him like a bull in a Texas fucking rodeo. At some undetermined point, he grabbed my hips and stopped me. The look of confusion and frustration overwhelmed my face. It was obvious I had been getting immense pleasure and he was fucking with my zen. "Don't worry, hon. Take some more of this." With that, he grabbed the vial from earlier—and I have no idea where he had kept it—and poured some of the powder on his chest. Without thinking or hesitation, I bent down and snorted the whole amount up my nostril. "Holy Fuck!" I screamed. With renewed vigor, I began bucking back and forth against his cock that had never left the comfortable confines of my cunt. My head was raised and looking up to the heavens, my mind and body exploding from some drug-fueled ecstasy that couldn't be healthy, but was obviously very pleasurable at the moment. I picked up the speed of my gyration. He picked up the force of his upwards thrusts. The tempo may have slowed, but the force of it picked up substantially. I think we both most have known that this was the endgame. "Oh God please keep fucking me!" "Harder!" The sheen of sweat reflecting the cameraman's light began to show the immense amount of energy we were putting into our craft. And I do mean craft. Our fucking was approaching art. It was beautiful. "Ah, Pound me harder!" "Grab my tits!" "Squeeze 'em!" My voice was guttural, but still immensely feminine. The pace picked back up without letting down on the force. The bed was physically moving around the room as we forced it forward and back. Then with one final series of thrusts, it was obvious we were both climaxing simultaneously. I could feel his member surging and pulsing deep within me. I slowed down to a speed that could only be described as an idle, extracting every ounce of cum from his shuddering cock. His face was a mix of surprise and obvious pleasure as he drove wave after wave of cum deep into my womb. ***** That's when I saw myself on the videotape collapse on top of the guy. I lightly kissed the singer and began initiating a post-fuck cuddle. A voice from the back of the room interrupted us. "Hey dickhead, your band has been on break for almost an hour. Get you cock back downstairs and finish your set." With that, the singer rolled out from under me, put his pants on, and left the room. He said, "Thanks babe," and left. College Gameday Fling Ch. 02 I laid there continuing to breathe heavily as I recovered from the extremely intense orgasm I had just achieved from riding a stranger's cock. I flipped over on my back, propped myself on my elbows so I was slightly sitting up, spread my legs, and lightly began rubbing my pussy to flush out the oozing cum that was trickling out as well as maintaining the wonderful feeling of physical contact from my fuck. It seemed delightful. "Ms. Thomas, we have a proposition for you." I appeared shocked as I lay on the bed, not only because they referred to me by my teaching name, but because they broke me from the trance of my post-fuck bliss. I looked genuinely confused as I looked up the person who had spoken the words. "It looks like you just enjoyed that a great deal. Would you be interested in helping another young man? He's shy, but I promise you...you'll enjoy teaching him the ropes." "Hunh?" "There's a shy friend of ours with a huge cock who will be great with the ladies one day. He just needs a little push from a master to help him along." "Huge cock?" Really? That's what I zeroed in on? Not the fact that some kind of train was getting lined up to run down my body, but it was the huge cock that I focused on. The humiliation of what I was seeing myself do on screen was ceaseless. And like always in the dark, cool basement, my naked body was shivering. Not from the cold air, but the anticipation of finding out what sordid and depraved deed I would find I'd already performed. ***** "We're going to blindfold you for a little while, because we want this next part to be a surprise." *This story has been sitting mostly finished for a while. I'm posting this, and I'm going to try to release the rest of the basement section soon. College Gameday Fling It seems the small intermission had caused his giant hard-on to subside a little. That was unfortunate, but I knew that there were things that I could do about that. A few forward and back motions; a subtle reposition; and my body had once again caught the attention of his cock. It was hard as granite and running straight down his leg—staining to get out. Unh! This felt much better without that thong. Granted, there wasn't that much fabric in that thing to start with, but now there wasn't even my skirt separating us. His thin pants did nothing to hide his beautiful cock. I became a little more aggressive with my grinding and soon I could clearly distinguish the head from the shaft of extremely well endowed manhood. My guess was seven or eight inches. I had had larger but I had certainly had had much smaller. "Your body is so hot, you're on fire right now. I can feel it," he whispered in my ear. "It's that big pole down there that's getting me all hot and bothered," I responded in as sexy tone as possible. By now I was leaning really far back and sitting right on his crotch. I was whispering directly in his ear. I even licked his earlobe a little to make my intentions as clear as possible. I tried to push out my chest to air out my tits as much as I could. I don't know how my tits didn't pop out right then. My breathing was deep and slow, and I knew my chest was heaving in a way I knew no man could resist. "Are you sure this is cool? I mean you were my teacher." "Shut up about that. I don't need reminding, and it's not like you're my student anymore." "You were my favorite. I imagined your body and how it would feel all the time." "Well now it seems you have the opportunity to make imagination meet reality." "Sit up." I was a little confused. We were starting to get into a pretty good rhythm with our dirty talk and now it seems he was pushing me away. Was I being a little too forward? I was drunk as hell by now and I'm sure I was coming on very strong, but I never thought I'd get rebuffed. So I bounced up to try and fix my skirt so the whole room couldn't tell it had ridden up, displaying my ass. Right as I was mid-move, however, I felt Mike's hand reach under my skirt. In less than a second he had his hand in perfect position at the precise point where my pussy came back down on his lap. YES. His palm was right on the folds of my entrance and his fingers were hovering wonderfully close to my clit. Immediately his hand began a message that brought me near orgasm right then and there. I let out a small gasp, and for an instant I believed it had betrayed us. Luckily, something in the conversation of the others had caused them to get loud, or laugh, or whatever...I didn't care. Involuntarily I started grinding back and forth on his hand. If our dry humping was slow and innocuous before, it certainly had a more sustained, quick tempo now. Finally, I felt his index finger curve upward and enter me. On its way, it slid right over my clit and through the folds of skin that were now absolutely churning with my wetness. His finger was hitting my G Spot and my muscles were squeezing around it. I was imagining it as his cock instead of his finger. He kept a slow, but continuous rhythmic assault of my pussy for the next few minutes. Every now and then, I'd make a genuine attempt to look around and try to at least look at the people around me. I didn't want it blatantly obvious that I was getting finger fucked right in front of them. Mike seemed to have to same idea. I thought he turned a little reckless when he actually broke into the conversation. He started talking about football or school or the sky for all I cared. Somehow, he threw in some witty punch line. Simultaneously, the room laughed together and he inserted another finger inside me. The only reaction I could muster that could mask the soul reverberating moan that I wanted to let out was a small giggle. No one seemed to comprehend the difference. I could feel the sweat start to glisten on my skin. My nipples were as hard as I'd ever felt them. Even with my bra and a dress, I was convinced people could see them. This only added to the rapture. I had fucked a few guys outdoors before, but this was my first public sexual experience, and I was sitting no more than three feet away from other people. It was such a rush. The synergies of so many intense emotions began to build. The taboo of hooking up with a student. The exhilaration of being caught by the people in the room. I was checking so many items on a fantasy list, and I was doing it all at once. ***** "Jenna, where have you been?" Ryan called out. I looked up and there he was. The others in the room couldn't see Mike's hand up my skirt, because they were on the other side. But from the side of the room where the door was, where Ryan was coming in, the angle offered a much better opportunity to see what may be going on. "Oh Ryan," as I tried to sit up a little and wipe my brow of a little perspiration, "I looked for you earlier but couldn't find you. I've just been here." Ryan gave me an up and down look and seemed to somewhat take in the scene. I don't think he knew that Mike had half his hand inside me, but I think he knew I was worked up. "Jen, I'm sorry. I was watching in another room. A buddy of mine may have an extra ticket to the game for me. I'm working on getting another for you one if you want." Fuck the football game. I came here to party and a young stud was feeling me up. "Um, it sounds like it may be too much trouble to find another ticket. Plus I don't want to sit by myself. You go ahead and go. There are some things planned that I can do. You go have fun." That seemed to be a perfectly legitimate answer. Ryan said his goodbyes and went out the door shaking his head. During the whole exchange I felt Mike tense up. He must have thought I was going to leave with the guy I came with. Silly. ***** At that point in the day, some other people in the room began to leave. Whether they had tickets to the game or just needed a change in scenery, there were only about five people in the room now: Mike's roommate Chris and his girlfriend, two random dudes, Mike, and I. With the conversation fractured, all the other people in the room decided it would be a good idea to start playing a drinking game. They all gathered around a table and started some card game I had never seen. They invited Mike and me to play, but Mike fended it off by saying we had both probably had enough to drink. Truth. What this did allow was for me and Mike a small element of privacy. Sure, it was a little ridiculous that I was sitting on his lap when the rest of the futon was empty, but that wasn't that weird, was it? We pretended to be transfixed to some game on TV, but in reality our hookup was now moving to advanced stages. I was able to get my hand under me so I could massage his cock while he fingered the shit out of me. His whole body began to thrust forward as if it was anticipating a long and good fuck. I let him. Our bodies got in a good tempo where we were simulating the entire act. The shitty part for him was that I actually wasn't touching his cock. He was giving me all kinds of great sensations, but I wasn't sharing well. So I took it upon myself to change that fact. I leaned forward but kept my hand right in his crotch. Ever so slowly, I found the button and zipper to his pants and undid them. It took a little while, because it was an awkward move to perform while reaching behind me with only one hand. But I finally got it. Very deliberately I snaked my hand into his pants and wrapped my fingers around his pulsing cock. Unnhh. It was such a feeling of fulfillment when I finally got a hold of him and wrapped my fingers around his shaft. In fact, it was a little larger than what I could fully grasp. His cock was much thicker than I'd anticipated—this kid just kept coming with the good surprises. I began slowly jerking him off. Unsatisfied, I took the next inevitable step. I needed his cock in the open air. There were some awkward moments when he had to pull down his pants enough to allow his cock to spring through that hole guys have in their boxers. But finally it was out. I resituated sitting on top of him and put my pussy right on top of his cock. It wasn't pointing up, so there wasn't penetration. Rather, he had pushed it down his leg again. When I sat down his cock ran the full length along my slit, from my clit to my asshole. This was wonderful. When I put all my weight down, his shaft worked its way up and gave me a great rail to slide back and forth along. I abandoned any façade of "simply readjusting for comfort." I had my hips pumping forward and backward the way you only do while riding a cock. Granted, I wasn't doing it at any pace close to full potential, but this was getting dangerously close to becoming obvious! Little moans escaped my throat as the motion got slicker and easier as my juices coated his cock. It was a fountain down there. It would have drowned a small child. I had no doubt that my wetness was contributing most of the lubrication, but my mind began to fantasize about little dribbles of precum beginning to enter the mix from the tip of his cock. The heat and tingling that began in my pussy slowly radiated throughout my whole body. Now, I began to realize how frustrating this would be. My body was crying out for more. I needed to rub my nipples. I wanted to kiss him deeply and passionately. I wanted his hands all over me. But we kept up the front of two kids sitting on a futon watching TV. "I want you so bad," he whispered. "You're so fucking hot." "I have your cock right here but can't do anything about it. I want you deep inside of me right now." "Your dress is riding up. Soon they'll be able to see what's going on." "I don't care, let them see. I just need you all over me right now...unhhh." That last moan coincided with the tip of his cock meeting the entrance to my pussy. It didn't go in, but we both knew that it would soon. Before now, we hadn't played the tip game at all. We both knew that if we got to that point, there was no return. We were now at that doorway. "Swivel around. Make it look like we're just making out." "No, just a little bit longer..." Finishing that sentence, I raised up a little on my knees lifting my whole body. He cock sprang up with me and as soon as I felt that his cock was perfectly lined up...I dropped. UUnnnhhh... Both of us gasped. His whole rod slid into me like we were made for each other. He wasn't all the way inside me, but he was much farther inside me than his fingers had been earlier. We paused for a moment and let the feeling sink in. Then he gave a slow, deliberate upward thrust to penetrate me as deeply as this position would allow. His lubricated cock seemed to continue on and on father inside me as he made several successive thrusts. I had my head back with my mouth agape at the gloriousness of the feeling. I brought my head down, and realized that the three guys at the table were now staring at us. Chris's girlfriend was dealing the next hand and concentrating on that. She didn't seem to realize that she was talking and dealing but no one was listening. At that point, I threw caution to the wind and started riding Mike's cock. The boys in the room knew what was going on. There was no mistaking this. It was fucking. I grabbed Mike's hands and placed them on my tits. He immediately saw the green light and began to knead my fleshy tits. With the audience I began looking right at them while I thrusted down onto Mike. "Hey Steph, will you be a doll and go grab us some Hooch?" Chris asked his girlfriend. Mike and I paused just in time for Steph to look up at the boys and not notice us. "Ok," she responded. With that, she meandered off to wherever some bottomless bin of booze was located. One of the random guys followed her towards the door. When he got to it, he closed and locked the door. The scene was set. I had a decision to make. I could tell these guys to get the fuck out of here so that Mike and I could have this room to ourselves, but that seemed like it would result in some kind of argument. It was decision time, and I made it. And I needed cock NOW! "Fuck me Mike," I demanded. I started pistoning up and down on his cock (that had never exited me throughout the entire process). With one hand I pulled down the top of my dress and bra allowing my tits to topple out of the prison that had been this dress for the past few hours. Mike's hands immediately grabbed hold of them and began tweaking my nipples. This new physical stimulus in addition to the removed need for caution drove me into overdrive. I thrusted. Mike thrusted. We were fucking with no abandon. As good as this feeling was I knew that it could be more. I hiked my skirt above my waist and started flicking my clit. So now I was riding a former student, reverse cowgirl, with my entire dress bunched around my stomach and was fingering my clit directly above the point where a massive cock was pummeling my pussy...in front of three perfect strangers. "Oh fuck yes Mike. Punish my pussy. Squeeze my nipples. SQUEEZE them!" "Fuck yea, Ms. Thomas. Tell me what you want!" "Harder! Fuck me harder!" Mike was like a racehorse making the final turn and galloping down the straightaway. He was furiously thrusting upwards, lifting my whole body up and down. He was straining so hard, he had to take his hands off my tits so that he could grab my waist and hoist me up with the strength of his arms. Undaunted, we kept it up. There were some knocks on the door from what must have been Steph trying to get back in. I heard Rando Guy tell her the door was jammed and they were trying to fix it. Noticing they were in room, I locked eyes with each of them. One by one. They were staring at me wide eyed and I gave them a look back that displayed no shame, remorse, or hesitation. I was riding a student's cock and they were strangers and I didn't give a fuck. Mike's cock began to pulse. Even through all the back and forth, I could feel his dick throbbing as it approached climax. I took the hand that was fingering my clit and reached down and grabbed his balls. I cupped them in my hand and started giving them slight pressure. This must have been too much. "I'm cumming Ms. Thomas! Get ready for it." "Fuck yes, cum in me Mike. Knock up your teacher." The three guys looking on gave each other questioning but amazed glances as they realized that we were either in advanced role play or that I was in fact a teacher. When I felt the surge of cum start to fill my pussy, I switched my hand back to my clit and furiously rubbed it as I felt bead after bead of goo fill up all of my insides. That sensation mixed with my frenzied attention to my own clit, my own climax erupted. My muscles contracted around his cock and had the effect of milking every last drop out of his balls. I could feel his jizz oozing out around his cock. But I also felt a new surge of moisture coming from my body. Sometimes when I cum really hard I squirt a little. We sat there very still for a few moments. Then I slowly turned around and straddled him. Even though his cock was rapidly deflating following his orgasm, he managed to stay inside me. I turned and finally we were face to face. I looked into his beautiful eyes and kissed him very deeply. With our arms wrapped around one another, we paused again and let the moment sink in. "That was amazing," he added first. "Mind blowing. You're quite the stud." "I was just trying to keep up. You've been my fantasy for so long, I thought I was going to blow thirty seconds in." "Well you didn't, and that just means you might be able to fuck me all night next time." "Sounds like a challenge." "Take it as one. I'll make it worth your while." "Is it really ok that I came in you?" "It's fine." Or was it fine? I had stopped taking birth control because I really didn't see the need for it. Guess I'd have to go and get the morning after pill. ***** "So, what do you want to do now?" Mike asked. "I don't know," was all I could respond. We had moved to his bed and were lying down wrapped in one another. The random guys had left. It had only been a few minutes since our first time together, and now the consequences of my actions were beginning to trickle into my consciousness. No, I didn't think that it was a big deal to have an affair with a former student. But news travels fast. Before morning a lot of people would know that Mike had fucked some teacher—maybe his high school teacher. And the way everyone seems to know everyone there seemed a good chance this could come back to bite me. Fuck. But I can't worry about that now. What's done is done. Why shouldn't I just enjoy life as it comes? At that moment another pledge walked in and gave us each a fresh goblet of Hooch. I downed it in one long series of gulps. "Well ok," Mike said. "Interested in staying for our band party tonight? It's gonna be rockin." Don't mind if I do...