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Amber's Dirty Party

By: Akireon



"Well, do you think you could fuck on stage?"

His name was Brian. He was a tall man, with long but sparse black whiskers beneath too-long sideburns and ragged, unwashed-looking but somehow not greasy hair. He wore thick glasses, those kind seemingly meant to prohibit interactions with anyone cool of either sex. He was lean, but he moved with an athletes grace, not unlike a dancer, but nothing so effeminate and beautiful. His was the agility of a hunting cat, the natural strength of a wild creature of nature, not the precision dance I knew so well. 

I stammered. "Uh." Actually, there was more, but you get the point. His question caught me completely off guard.

We sat in his office, in a plush high-rise not terribly far from the school. It was a place of fine wooden desks, cherry finish on the shelves on the wall, matching finish on the desk, of ancient Chinese vases, or at least tasteful modern replicas. He wore a suit, but without a tie. It was after hours, so perhaps he had taken it off.

When he noticed my reticence, he held up one finger, then moved over to a flat-screen TV and inserted a DVD. After a moment, the picture came up, shaky and chaotic in that hand-held camcorder way that usually gives me a headache. The picture focused, and I found myself looking into the backyard of a sorority house. I was the focus. I was dancing, not like at a club, but the ballet I had been rehearsing since I was almost too small to remember. I was lithe, graceful, like a swan atop still waters. Even drunk and sexed up, I was graceful. And being naked only made it better.

Slowly, it came back to me. Man, I really fucked up. Fucked up bad. Or, depending on how you looked at it, good.

"I recently purchased this video from a trio of cheerleaders I'm - somewhat - acquainted with. I happened to catch the tail end of your performance. I loved it. You're a natural, Amber, and I want you to come dance for us. On stage. Nude. There'll be sex. It's a restricted audience. Elites. People with - ah, eccentric - tastes. People who pay well for someone like you. Outside of the club and the customers, who are by nature the most discreet, no one needs to know about it. This isn't going to end up posted online somewhere in three weeks."

I didn't say anything. I was busy watching the camera, tuning out Brian to recall the previous Thursday, when it all really started.

***

I woke up in bed alone in my dormitory. Now, that's not so strange, really, except that I usually woke with Sara, my roommate, in my arms or right beside me. We'd become lovers early in the semester, though neither of us had told the men in our lives yet. It seems wrong, in a way, because I believe people should be honest with each other, especially if they're sleeping together. Yet, keeping Sara and I a secret brought a thrill I didn't want to end.

I sat up on the bed. Sara was in her bed, stripped, lying on her side facing away from me. The telltale stream of dried white curling away from her vagina to trail down to the sheet told me her boyfriend, Jeff, had been there in the night. I smiled for her, and yet at the same time suppressed a pang of jealousy. I liked that he treated her well and made her happy, but I also wanted her for myself. I suck in this whole honest and upright relationship thing, I know, and I know my jealousy was somewhat hypocritical, but knowing it and stopping it were two different things. I fought it that morning by wrapping myself in a towel, traipsing off to the shower, and wondering just how much of my naked body Jeff had seen last night. He never commented, and neither did Sara, but I was sure he'd seen more of me that was strictly proper.

And I liked it. I liked being naked, especially when there was a possibility someone might see. Sara was turning me from a straight girl into a bisexual exhibitionist. And I was convinced I was in love with her for it.

When I returned, Sara was waiting on the edge of her bed. She looked serious, far too serious, so I sat on my bed and waited.

"Jeff proposed to me last night," she said.

I felt my jaws tighten. I fought a surge of jealous anger the way you might fight off a rabid dog. Suddenly I hated Jeff, but somehow, I managed to grin. I don't know how. As mad as I was, it shouldn't have worked. Or maybe it didn't work, and Sara understood. She's creepy-smart like that sometimes.

"That's awesome. Have you set a date?"

She shook her head.

I waited. There was more. She had that look.

"What do you want to do, Amber?"

"Well, I was thinking I'd go catch my cursed Sociology class, and after that find something to eat."

"No, I mean about us."

I shrugged. "What can we do?"

"Well, there's option A, we can confess everything. Only, I think that'd hurt Jeff. I mean, he likes the girl on girl thing when we sneak a porno, just like any guy, but he's extremely hesitant around you, about you. If we were other people, or I didn't know both of you as well as I do, I'd think he'd cheated on me with you, but I just can't see it."

I got up, sat beside her. "Listen, Sara. Jeff's hot, and I'd be lying if I said there weren't days I wished it was my bed he was crawling into. But he's never touched me, and I'm not planning on trying anything with him."

She put her hand on my knee. Even as mad as I was, her touch was electric. Oh, I so wanted her to slide those fingers on up. Of course, that was about the time I remembered Sociology coming up.

"Thank you, and I trust you, Amber. Let's see. We could do the opposite, and just not tell anyone, but that kind of feels wrong, like a betrayal, even more than not telling anyone so far."

I nodded. She was right.

"Or, we could sort of bring them into it slowly, you know, sort of hint around and tease around until one day, while he's here, we just start making out."

She blinked. "It'd have to stop there, of course. I know you don't want to share Tom, and I'm not ready to share Jeff either. I'm sorry, I want you to myself, and I want him to myself. I know that's selfish and wicked of me, but..."

"I know what you mean, Sara. I understand. But if we make out, by accident as it were, and Jeff sees us, then he'll know something's up, and we can kind of see what he thinks."

I sighed. "I hate to lose 'us' just because some guys don't like that we're together, or they don't like it because we didn't invite them along."

Sara leaned back. She took my towel, wrapped it around herself. She did that sometimes. Said she liked it because it smelled so much like me, all wet and used.

"Well, these aren't just any guys, they're our men."

"Yes, I know. Sorry, I didn't mean it that way. It's just..."

"Well, we've got a little time. Let's think about it, and maybe we'll think of a better answer."

I went to the closet as she moved to the door. "Sure," I said. "Let's see what we can come up with."

Sara smiled and opened the door. Just as she did, a guy and two chicks from down the hall walked past. All three of them got a good look at me just standing there, buck-naked, reaching into the closet for my clothes. All three of them hesitated. Sara gasped, closed the door. I laughed, pulled out a skirt and a light shirt. I wasn't offended. In spite of everything, I wasn't offended. I rather kind of liked it.

The rest of my day passed fitfully. I aced a calculus test, blew the hell out of the bell-curve, and pissed off the trendy gaggle of girls that sit in the front row with their designer hair, designer clothes, and designer accessories. I didn't even take a calculator to class, and for some reason, that pissed them off. Most days. That day, after class, they came up to me, three of them, Mandy, Brandi, and Jean. Three blondes. Three so-called perfect women.

"You're the smartest girl we know," Jean said. "We'd like to study with you sometime."

I heard warning klaxons. You know, the kind that say the world is about to end? Jean blinked her designer lashes at me. I shrugged. "I'll give you my number. Call me Monday, after lunch. We'll talk about it."

"Oh," Brandi said, blinking the exact same lashes. I wondered if their underwear matched. "We're having a party at our sorority house tomorrow night. You're invited, if you want to come. Eight o'clock."

"I'm afraid you girls are going to be out past my bedtime. I've got more tests to study for."

I could have said ace. Or bell-curves to blow. 

Well, I could have.

"No," Mandy said, kind and soft, with slightly different lashes. At least one of them varied. A little. "It's cool. We'll call you Monday, okay. We could definitely use a little extra help on that last section."

Right. They were up to something, and it wasn't studying with me.

"Great." I jotted my number down, smiled once at the three of them, and left.

After that, I went back to the dorm and waited for Sara. I'd struggled enough with the whole admitting my relationship with my bi-sexual roommate thing long enough to know that I wasn't going to come up with an answer that didn't mess up something I'd rather keep. I shook my head more than once, at myself, and my lack of a good answer to a problem that just seemed to develop on its own.

Sara called me later, a lot later than I would have liked, and told me she was going out with Jeff, so I buckled down to study. I went for a run, flirted with the cute little female attended I'd been chatting with ever since that rainy day Sara and I seduced each other, and finally returned to look at next week's calculus and my crappy Sociology report.

Sometime after midnight, I felt weight crawling between my legs. An erection pressed between my hot, slick labia. It took me a moment to catch on. It was Tom, because Sara's cock was plastic and probably wouldn't be so warm without already being wet. Yes, I could tell that he was dry. Oh yeah, and Sara's toy doesn't throb by itself. I sighed as he pushed in, filled me, rolled my head as he nuzzled my neck with bristly whiskers. I liked his whiskers, but I liked Sara's smooth skin more. That was when I knew it was time to just break it off with Tom. I wanted Sara more. Hell, I think I wanted that little geeky gymnasium attendant more. Sara had kind of broke my guy hunger. Or maybe I had just never been all that into Tom to begin with. It really wasn't fair to him, but neither was dragging it out.

Oh, hell, if I'd only figured it out before he was inside me...

Well, he did have a nice package. And he was attentive. I'd tell him after the weekend. Monday, maybe. Yeah, that would be good.

And then he came, spurting and driving and groaning. I let him settle, let him roll off me. I didn't try for my own with him. He'd felt good, but I wanted Sara. I let him drool out of me, and drifted off to sleep. It wasn't much later, I don't think, when I woke again. It was still quite dark. I crawled out of the bed without waking Tom and went over to Sara's bed. As usual, she was naked, almost spread-eagle, and I crawled between her legs, put my tongue on her clit.

And tasted man.

Jeff, I thought to myself. Sneaky bastard had been there. Was he there still? Was he out in the bathroom? I checked for shoes or wallet. Nothing. He was gone already. I moved back to Sara's used pussy and licked her until she curled up and came around my face, gushing Jeff's seed all over me. That had a wicked, wicked feeling to it, and when she went back to sleep, I teased myself to a small, quiet, but very much needed orgasm before returning to my own bed and hiding from Tom.

That morning, he was gone, and Sara cried when she saw I was awake. I sat up quickly. She sat beside me, and I noticed that she was dressed as if to go to class, only I was pretty sure she didn't have a class Friday morning.

"I don't know any good way to tell you this, Amber," she said, "so I'm going to just come right out and say it. I fucked Tom last night."

I froze. My jealousy and anger from the previous morning returned. I turned so angry I wanted to hit her. I know a thousand angry masks must have crossed my face. Somehow, like before, I didn't say anything at all. I suppose it was the tiny voice in my mind, back there behind the closets and skeletons and secrets, that told me this was all my own fault. That voice didn't curb the anger any, but it kept me from lashing out.

"I didn't want to," she said. "I mean, well, he just came over a little after you two finished. I thought he was lost, so I started to push him back towards your bed, but he found my tits, and at the same time, I found his cock. I didn't want to but it was all hard and wet and smelled of your sex. I wanted to taste it, suddenly, like you do with me sometimes, and then he was pushing me down and he was inside me and I couldn't stop."

"So Jeff wasn't here last night."

Her eyes hit the floor. She shook her head.

I got up. She followed me with weepy, puppy-dog eyes. I grabbed some clothes, a towel, and my shower gear.

"Don't talk to me right now, okay. This is all fucked up and I don't know what I'm thinking or doing, so I don't want to talk about it. I've got classes. I'll talk to you later."

And then I walked naked all the way down to the showers.

That day passed way worse than the day before. I was pissed, but it was at least as much at me and my inability to manage everything as it was at Sara and Tom. But as time passed, and the things that had happened that night simmered in my mind, I got angrier. I got so angry that by lunch, I tracked down Mandy and her designer friends and told them I'd come to the party.

I'm not a drinker. Usually I disdain alcohol and the people who drink it. That night, though, I wanted to get fucking plastered.

I didn't talk to Sara that night. I left her crying. I was a bitch.

The sorority house was a big place, like one of those old Victorian Era homes, almost more mansion than mere house. Dozens of people filled the porch, the foyer, and the entrance hall. People watched me. I ignored them. I went to one room where jocks in team jerseys dispersed beer from a keg on the balcony overhead to a crowd of men and women vying for a turn at the clear hose that hung down to face level. I moved through the room, angling for the door on the other side, where I saw a quieter space.

I'm still not sure how it happened, but suddenly I was next in line at the hose. Everyone around me chanted, and without thinking, I put the clear tube between my lips. Someone signaled the guys overhead, and the tube shook with the force of the beer jetting down. I hate beer. It tastes awful. It stinks. I clamped my mouth down around the tube and let the putrescent liquid burst into my mouth. I guzzled it, swallowed it as fast as I could, and what I didn't swallow spilled from my mouth, poured over my chin, and spread across my shirt. I'd worn a thin bra that day, and when I finally lifted my head and released the tube, panting, my soft bra and nipples showed quite clearly.

The throng cheered, and the beer in the tube stopped. Someone grabbed my ass. Some chick slid up to me. She was hot and skanky at the same time. She kissed me, which brought on more cheers, and her hands and at least two others pawed my breasts. I laughed, broke away from them, and moved into the next room.

Someone followed me, and as I entered a dark, quiet place beneath the sink, soft hands caught my wrist. I stopped, turned, staggering, and someone pressed right against me. She was shorter than me, plumper, but not overly so. Men would call her curvaceous. I'd been fooling around enough with Sara to enjoy the way this girl's knee moved between mine, and the way her breasts made a sort of shelf beneath mine. Her arms went around my waist, and before I knew what was happening, she was suckling at my neck, slurping, tasting, licking the beer I had lost, and grinding her pelvis against my thigh. She was wearing soft cotton shorts, green, that seemed somehow to disappear as she humped me.

I cupped her ass in my hands, thought of Sara, and tried to decide I the softness I felt beneath my fingers was shorts or panties. My nails found the backs of her upper thighs, raked into her. I reached beneath the bottoms of the garment, decided it was panties, and a second later, I was rubbing her anus with two index fingers.

"Gawd, that's hot," the chick gasped into my shoulder. She lifted her face to mine, sucked at my lower lip. It was Brandi, from Calculus. I teased the moistened sinkhole of her vagina with one middle finger, kept my other finger working her ass.

"I knew you liked girls," she whispered before kissing me again. "I see you with your roommate. There's no way to hide that kind of electricity."

"Let's go someplace else," I whispered, "before I turn you upside down and drink you."

Her eyes lit, drunk, glassy, horny, and wild.

"Oh, feeling frisky are we?"

"You started it."

She kissed me again. "I did, didn't I? Well, if you're feeling a little wild, why don't we go to the game room?"

"What's in the Game Room?"

"It's just a place where the more mature of us can unwind. Let's just say it's a much cooler party in there than out here."

I took her hand. "Okay."

Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was just how pissed I was at Sara and Tom. Or maybe I was just ready to be wilder. We went towards the back of the house and came to a door with a paper sign at the top that read, "Game Room." Brandi grinned, pushed through the door, and there we froze.

The door clicked behind us.

The first thing I noticed was that the room was full of people, fifty or seventy. They were mostly in their underwear. A few were even missing that. I saw Brandi's friend Jean and she wore only a bra. Some didn't have anything on at all. Everyone had crowded around a table on the far side of the room, where Mandy stood atop the table. She was stripped down to her underwear, but had a microphone.

"Well, hello, girls. You've just come to the game room, and we were about to get started. Shuck your clothes and come on over. Oh, before you do, try the doors."

I pushed on the door. It didn't budge.

"That's right. You can't leave until you play, and for starters, you have to strip. Underwear or nothing, ladies."

Brandi cupped my ass with one hand. "So, still feeling frisky? I'm dying to see you without that shirt."

I know I turned red. There was humiliation, but was also excitement. I'd become something of an exhibitionist over the past few weeks, and now I was really in a good place to show off my body. It seems lame, at times, to think about it like that. I've never been one to show off. I've always been modest. Proper. Here I was carrying on with my roommate and boyfriend at the same time. There I was, having sex in the nude on the rooftop. There I was standing in a room of half-naked people, contemplating stripping in front of them.

Brandi moved beside me, and when I glanced her way, she was wearing only a bra. The bra was one o those half-cup things I'd never wear, and her nipples jutted over the top, thick and swollen. I felt a tingle through my insides. Had I done that?

I pulled my top off, handed it to a girl beside the door, who wrote a number in marker on my shoulder. I dropped my skirt, stood there in my underwear, and she took the skirt as well.

"All right," Mandy crowed. "Everybody ready? It's time to play."

Brandi took my hand and pulled me over to the crowd. People watched us, some stoic, some interested. I saw a girl from Calculus, another of Brandi's crowd. She grinned. Others appeared almost angry. I tried to ignore their stares.

"Here's how it works," Mandy continued. "We all get to play, except for Janice, over there. She's got a special condition that makes her exempt."

She pointed to the woman that had taken our clothes. Janice waved, and I finally noticed the pregnant bulge of her tummy.

"Like I said, we all play, even me. We've got numbers. When your number comes up, we bring you up front, where you get to choose between two depraved or slightly kinky acts. The kinky act gets you two points. The depraved one gets you five points. For every round that you don't do something, you lose one point. But, you can't go below zero." She hesitated, as if hungry and excited, and her fingers brushed over the front of her panties. "If you get to zero, we take pictures. Oh, and if you don't play, you don't get your clothes back."


Amber's Dirty Party



She pranced back and forth across the table. She was clearly comfortable both semi-nude and speaking to strangers. I admired her confidence. I also admired the curves of her ass.

"Oh, and that choice? I almost forgot. That's just the first time. After that, you have to do what we draw." She pushed a hand into her panties, made a show of stroking herself.

"Okay," Mandy purred. "We'll call five numbers. The first two will be partners. If you're partnered with a gender you don't like, you can choose to opt out. The opt-out penalty is anal sex with this."

She lifted a giant dildo, as thick as her arm and nearly as long. Everyone groaned.

"If you opt-out, I strap it on and let you have it. Then you get your clothes back, and you can leave." She smirked. "Otherwise, guys, be warned, you might have to suck dick or take it up the ass. Girls, you might end up licking ass or pussy. Either gender can end up with a cream-pie in any hole. But remember, you can opt-out. When you get to twenty points, you get your clothes back and you can leave."

Mandy looked over everyone. "Alright, boys and girls, let's get naughty."

She walked over to a small laptop and pushed a key. "The first five numbers are, thirty-two, fourteen, eighteen, twenty-one, and forty-five."

I glanced down. I was forty-four. Brandi was forty-five. She squealed, then grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the front. "Come on, I want you to see."

I went with her. I brushed past people on the way, and started to feel more relaxed with this whole thing.

Mandy whistled. "Okay, the choices are nipple-licking for kinky, anal sex for depraved. If you choose anal sex, your partner gets your ass until he or she cums, or if your partner's a girl, she can quit at three minutes. If she manages to get off before that, lucky her."

Everyone giggled.

"Okay, Brandi, you're with me. Thirty-two, are you going to lick fourteen's nipple, or let him do your ass?"

Thirty-two was a tall girl with heavy brown glasses. She was plain, in a lot of ways, like me, but for the ankh tattooed around her navel. Her partner, Fourteen, was a skinny, gangly guy with sideburns and short hair. Everyone cheered for the anal sex. 

"I'm gonna lick his nipples, Mandy."

"All right, well, let's see it."

The girl leaned close to her partner and licked each of his nipples.

"Okay," Mandy said, "Eighteen, what do you want from Twenty-one?"

Eighteen was a short girl with pigtails, while Twenty-one was muscular black man.

"Anal," she whispered. 

"Wow, right off the bat," Mandy chanted. "Buddy, it's your lucky night. Hop to it. And Brandi, baby?"

Brandi smirked at me. "Anal, girl. I want my points."

Moments later, Eighteen was on her knees in front of us, gradually taking Twenty-one's enormous erection into her ass. Likewise, after a dose of lubricant, Brandi was on her knees with Mandy crouching behind her, a smaller dildo than the opt-out toy strapped to her pelvis. She pushed into Brandi's hole and slowly ground against her until a timer went off. All the while, Brandi gave me killer, bedroom eyes. Of course, by then, Twenty-one had deposited his ejaculate in Eighteen's ass.

"Okay, guys and girls," Mandy said into the mic and pointing at Eighteen's dripping posterior, "Anyone can leave right now, clothes and all, by eating the spunk out of her ass."

I almost did it. I thought about licking Sara's ass, and eating Tom out of her. I had thought the cum from Jeff, at the time, and the realization that my girlfriend had fucked my boyfriend still burned.

"All right," Mandy called. "Who's going to clean up this brave girl?"

It was a hangup, I realized, something left over from my days of normal sexuality. I wasn't normal any more. I was becoming an exhibitionist, and I liked girls as much as boys. Maybe more.

Mandy met my eyes, grinned. "What about you, Forty-four? Easy out? One lick?"

Everyone looked at me. My face burned, but I moved forward. Brandi went with me, her hand low on my back, near my panties.

"Oh, my God," Mandy whispered into her speaker. "I think we have a taker. You're kinkier than I thought, Forty-four."

"I'll do it," I said, "but I don't want to quit now."

Mandy's brows rose. Brandi whistled low. "I think we've got a hungry one here."

I blushed more. Brandi ran her hand over my panties, cupped my ass. "Hungry, and brave. Lick her clean, then, dear girl."

Cheering started around me as I knelt behind Eighteen. She watched me over her shoulder with a twinkle in her eye. I touched her butt, put my hands on the sweet flesh of her hips, like natural handles meant to pull her back towards me. I dipped my mouth to her cleft, where pools of silver-gray goo puddled in the dip of her anus. More pearly semen dripped down over her genitals, like a sugary glaze on pastries of flesh. I stuck out my tongue so they could all see, and lowered it directly into Eighteen's rear. The cheers became exultant shouts. A hand on my ass slipped beneath the leg-band to feel more of my skin than was visible. Was it Brandi? By the time I had withdrew my tongue enough to start lapping at Twenty-one's cum, I had a finger at the back edge of my pussy.

I sucked the cum out of her, licked at her sphincter, delighted as she squeezed down on me. The finger at my posterior continued to roam beneath my panties, tracing back and forth between the edge of my pussy and the edge of my anus. I delved into Eighteen's rear, pushing past the sphincter with my tongue. Mandy whistled when I dipped down to clean up the gooey trails of cum that dripped across the other woman's pussy. I have to admit, the mixture of ass, pussy, and male cum combined with the public sex rush was almost intoxicating.

Or maybe it was that beer from earlier.

Mandy giggled. "Brandi, you dirty girl, playing with our heroine while she cleans Eighteen's ass."

So it was Brandi. I'm not sure if that excited me more, or the thought that it might have been a stranger. Brandi's fingers teased the opening of my wetness. I wondered how many of the participants behind me could see my pussy. The question made me tremble, made my cervix tighten.

"Okay," Mandy announced, satisfied that I had cleaned out Eighteen. "Moving on."

Brandi and I went back to the end of the line. I didn't pull my drawers up as I walked, and when I got to the end, I shoved them down and kicked them off. Brandi wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Girl, that was so hot. I could fuck you right here." She kissed at my lips, tonguing at the combination of spunk and pussy and ass.

The sex and playing and teasing continued. One guy had to chose between taking it up the behind by a black guy, or taking it from Mandy. He chose Mandy, to the booing, but the harsh crowd relaxed and began cheering him when he took more and more of that giant dildo. In the next pairing, two chicks in our row had to get one of them off by humping the others breasts. The one on top could fake it, but only after that three-minute mark.

In the next pairing, my number was called, with a broad-shoulder guy who looked like a wrestler but who was too short and too narrow otherwise to be a football jock.

"All right, fuckers," Mandy called. "This time, it's a panty-job."

We all kind of stared at each other. She grinned down at me. "Forty-four, I love you. Lay your partner down on the bench, there. You don't have panties, but he's still got his underwear. You have to hump his cock, through the underwear, until he cums." She turned to the other pairings, issuing orders and instructions. On the row farthest to my left, two Hispanic girls argued together in Spanish, until eventually they agreed to do each other. One was bottomless, like me, and the other had a bra and panties. It was decided that they would trade underwear, and the one wearing would receive, while the other would give.

"Well," Mandy finally announced, "It looks like our two BFF's over here might be getting a little closer tonight."

That brought a round of chuckles.

I straddled the guy with me. His number was sixty-one. He looked almost apologetic. 

"Hey, I'll let that bitch do me if you don't want..." He looked away. "If you'd rather have a different partner."

Shy. Touching. But the considerate part turned me on. He didn't expect me to just jump him. I have to admit, it made me a little hornier. Not like Tom, who expected to get laid every time he touched me, every time he called. I hadn't minded too much, before, because he was good, but after Sara...After he and Sara...

I scooted back, so that I could see his briefs, and the sizable package therein. He was like Tom in that regard, well-endowed but not giant, just my kind. Well, for anyone not having a pussy, that is. He was semi-erect, but stiffened when I grabbed him through the briefs and pushed him upright. He grinned at me when I settled my groin down over the lump of his cock.

"Oh, Forty-four, that's perfect, girl." I glanced up at Mandy. I must have looked a succubus just then. She blew me a kiss.

And so the count began. It was a timer for the girls at the end, the Hispanic girls with their lovely complexions and their black hair. The one on top pulled her tank-top off, leaving herself completely naked while she thrust herself against her friend's pussy. The one on the bottom was watching me. I smiled at her, and it looked like she might have started to enjoy herself.

Sixty-one was definitely enjoying himself. I breathed lightly as I rode over him, and my lubricant smeared across the cotton of his briefs. He throbbed and groaned beneath me, and though I could tell he wanted nothing more than to shuck the drawers and fuck me, he resisted, letting me drive, letting me call the shots. I loved it as he laid there, languishing beneath my grinding.

"Touch me," I whispered to him, but I saw that he could not hear me over the noise. I leaned back, putting my weight on knees and toes, and pulled his hands up to my breasts. They're not big, not even handfuls, really, but he massaged me, squeezed me, toyed with my nipples, looking right up into my eyes without fear, and with a great deal of ardor, the kind of ardor that pushed the tip of his cock out of the top of the briefs. I glanced down when I felt him lunge, watched the tip ease out into view, so smooth and lovely after the raspy cotton. It was too much to resist easing my pussy forward until I was touching his tip with my clit.

"Hey," Brandi protested with a grin. "She's not doing the panty-job any more."

Mandy came over to us, looking down between us as I humped Sixty-one's erection. Only the tip was still out, and his drawers were not riding down.

"Did they move them down by hand?" Mandy asked.

Several of the bystanders told her that no, we had not used our hands, that it had just happened.

Mandy reached down, felt of my boob, sliding her hand beneath Sixty-one's. "Well, then it's all good." She leaned close, kissed my neck, my earlobe. "Wouldn't it be nice," she purred, "if before this is over, you can get that monster free and stuff it up your pussy?"

Her words buzzed in my ear, and suddenly it was so difficult to not cheat, pull his cock out of the white cotton, and do exactly that.

Mandy returned to the impromptu stage, commenting towards the other participants. My Hispanic voyeur friend and the end was now watching me, licking at her lips, and touching her friend's tits. She played with them almost absently, but when she looked up at her friend, she pulled her hand away, as if realizing what she had done. Her friend grabbed the hand, pulled it back to the softly jiggling flesh, and leaned down to kiss her. They shared lips and tongue for a minute, and when they broke for air, the one on the bottom was watching me again, her eyes drowned in lust. I was glad for her, because that was what I was feeling.

Sixty-one groaned, thrusting his hips up at me. I kept riding my pussy over him, moistening his underwear, catching on the waistband, then gliding over the tip of his cock. He stared up at me, his face getting redder, and I realized he was about to pop.

"I can't hold it, Baby," he grunted.

I didn't ask him to. I rode harder, rocking my pussy back and forth over the tip. He came with a strained groan, clutching my hips with powerful hands, thrusting his bound cock upwards against his underwear and the softness of my vagina. The first spurt shot upwards, across his tummy, stretching the way only cum flung by a cock can. I rocked forwards again, and the next volley splashed across my clitoris, and the third across the back of my pussy as I tried to buck him up inside me.

On the backstroke, I thought to myself, fuck it. I reached down, pushed his waistband down to his balls, pulled his cock up to meet me. It spurted again, dashing seed across my hand, my wrist. Another shot hit my pussy as I settled over him, this time pointing his spewing girth at my hole. I was so wet, and so was he, that I slid right down over his goo until my clit mashed against his pubic bone and the scratchy waistband caught me between asshole and pussy.

Sixty-one gasped, and several of the onlookers were cheering. Brandi tried to give me a hard time again, but Mandy would have none of it. I didn't care one way or the other, since that lovely cock was thrusting up inside me. I didn't even care about the cum leaking out, spilling across my insides as he finished. He wasn't done, though, and that's what was important to me as I humped higher and harder, giving him the full stroke of my pussy along his length, feeling the luxuriant slide of his meat against mine, deep inside, then out, then deep inside, then out. Each down-stroke I made sure to grind my clit against him. I wanted to cum too.

It didn't take long. I started when he hit his second, the frantic tightness of his eyes and lips, the erratic throbbing of his cock inside me, the gradual change of texture between his cock and my pussy as thick pulses of semen spilled out into me. I sat all the way down on him, rocked my hips forwards and back, digging my clit through his pubic hair until the tremors started. I shook. I groaned deep in my throat. My nipples ached as they wrinkled, as if by cold, and arcs of lighting flashed between them and my cervix, as if connected, as if I was an eager light-bulb finally finding its switch. I jerked my head back, letting my little titties bounce. I cried out, my voice cracking, husky.

Someone handed me a beer when I climbed off my new friend. I went to the door, ignored the clothes someone offered me, and staggered out to the back door, out into the yard. Suddenly, for the first time in a long, long time, I wanted to dance.

***

Brian was sitting across from me, waiting for my answer. I was flushed. The recollection of that night was more than I wanted to take at any given moment. I didn't hate myself. I was on the pill so I could fuck Tom whenever I wanted, so I wasn't worried about that, but I should have felt more than just the satisfaction. And I was satisfied. I liked that all those people had watched me cum on that guy's spurting dick. I liked that Mandy, Jean, and Brandi had been there, had watched me. They had been strangely subdued over the intervening days, quietly avoiding me in class, and certainly not giving me a hard time.

"Let me think about it," I said.

"You have my card. Take as long as you like. Our -- market -- isn't going anywhere."

"I'm going to the beach this weekend. I'll call you Monday."

I took a taxi back to the dorms. Sara was gone. There was a note on the bed, saying she had gone to see Jeff for a few days. I changed and jogged to the gym. The cute little thing I normally flirt with was gone that day, replaced by a bored black chick with pony-tails. I might have flirted with her too, but she ignored me, so I went for a swim.

When I got out of the water, I toweled mostly dry and went back to the locker-room. On my locker was a note, a piece of notebook paper with purple lines torn into a small size and folded over. Inside, in flamboyant pink ink, in decidedly feminine penmanship, were three words.

"I saw you."