9 comments/ 34900 views/ 26 favorites Amy Says Yes By: Serafina1210 This is an entry in the April Fools' Day contest, so expect a bit of goofiness. It's a hard story to categorize, having elements that might have put it in Group Sex, Erotic Couplings, or even Romance. It finally landed in Fetish because its heroine has certain, um, fixations - but it's mild as Fetish stories go. Length: about 14,600 words. Tags: Straight sex, Anal sex, Group sex, MMMF, MMMMF, Penis, Cum eating, College, Fraternities. 1. The Amy Scale Amy Marsh knew very well that she was plain, and she had come to terms with that, more or less. Short and stumpy, she had untended eyebrows above dull gray eyes. Makeup might have helped her round puffy face, but she didn't bother. Her hair was an average brown, and she wore it in an easily maintained nerdy cut. She had big dark-framed glasses: she'd tried contacts a few years ago, but they'd been more trouble than they were worth, so she'd given them up. Her jeans and sweater were nondescript, as all her clothing was: when she'd go out shopping, meaning to buy something bold and different, she'd come back every time with the same jeans and earth tones. In the summer she wore sandals, in colder weather unfashionable running shoes (which should not be taken to imply that she ran). When Amy imagined a future for herself, it did not include love or indeed sex with an actual man. She knew very well that she didn't turn heads, and, not being abundantly endowed with that consolation prize for the unattractive known as "personality," she was unlikely to draw the attention of a man acceptable to her. Back in high school she had occasionally attended dances, where she'd stood off to the side unnoticed, watching the popular kids have fun. Sick of being a wallflower, she'd given up dances, and with them, all thought of getting a boyfriend. This is not to say that Amy didn't think about sex. She did, and frequently. She fantasized about the handsomest boys in school, about movie stars, about sports figures. She sought out pleasing pictures of scantily clad men to enrich her fantasies, and she looked at them and imagined what it would feel like to make love to them. At college (where she was, on the last Friday in March, a junior), her parents had sprung for a single room, and in that private space she'd discovered porn. She occasionally worried that something must be wrong with her: she'd read somewhere that women weren't supposed to like porn. But she did, and that was that. She loved James Deen: it was so hot to imagine him roughing her up as she sucked his cock! She liked Rocco Siffredi's stuff from a decade ago - he'd been such a handsome pervert! She pictured him putting it to her, right there in the backside. How would it feel to have a cock in her? She nervously, blushingly, ordered a dildo and a bottle of lubricant online and was relieved when they arrived, as promised, in plain packaging. She gave the dildo a workout, sucking it, fucking herself with it, and after three weeks of courage-building, putting it in her ass. Oh, it hurt back there; she had to give it five tries over three days, but when she finally got it in, the feeling was divine, and, fucking herself behind while rubbing herself in front, she masturbated to an orgasm like none she'd ever had. She ordered more toys - butt plugs, vibrators, double dildos that could be inserted both fore and aft, Ben Wa balls. She started a journal of her adventures with them: "Ben Wa and vibrator on clit, A081." "Anal vibrator and deep finger-fuck, A063." "Vibrator pussy and ass, AMAZING, A095." The numbers with A prefixed were the "Amy Scale" she had devised for rating orgasms, the first two digits indicating intensity on a scale of one to ten, and the third indicating type - 1 being clitoral, 2 vaginal, and 4 G-spot; she could indicate combinations unambiguously by ANDing these numbers. A biology major accustomed to keeping meticulous lab notes, she was raising masturbation to a science. Ever since Amy had observed, to her dismay, the form her adult self was assuming, she had eschewed the serious use of mirrors. This is unfortunate, for had she studied her face with any care, she might have noticed that she had one feature which, if not spectacular, really was quite good: her lips, which were full, succulent, and sensuously curved. You'd have to look twice or even three times to notice them, set as they were in such an unprepossessing face: since no one spent any time studying Amy's face, they went unremarked. This morning, however, someone did notice - a handsome, careless bon vivant whose name Amy herself has since forgotten - let us call him John. He was enrolled in the same section of Anthropology 202 as Amy. This morning, a Friday, he was bored and grouchy, and that for a couple of reasons. The first was that he hated Friday morning classes. Like a great many undergraduates, he believed fervently that the weekend proper began at five o'clock on Thursday afternoon. But he needed this class, which satisfied a college requirement in an undemanding way, and he'd put off registering till the Tuesday-Thursday section was filled - so he was stuck. The second reason was that, although he had joined one of those fraternities that were supposed to guarantee brothers an active and varied sex life, he hadn't seen any action in a good three weeks. As the professor droned on about the gift-giving rituals of some savage group in New Guinea (or was it South America?) John scanned the room for pickup opportunities. Here was a smooth-faced blonde in a form-fitting sweater, and there a brunette with a cute upturned nose - but they were long shots. Besides, if he was to have any chance at all with girls like that, he'd have to work a lot harder than he was minded to do. He'd just about exhausted all the possibilities and was starting to consider whether he could get away with checking out his Facebook page on his phone, when his eye, sweeping the room, paused briefly on Amy, industriously taking notes and seated halfway along a semicircle of seats, the endmost of which he occupied, so that he had an excellent view of her in quarter profile. With her limp hair, pasty face, frowsy clothing, and ugly glasses, she was ridiculously drab - completely out of the question. And then, just a split second before John's eye would have moved on, an event took place that would change Amy's life. At a moment of intense concentration, as she was trying to condense the professor's last three sentences into a form that she could write down before he proceeded to his next point, she bit her lower lip. John's eyes widened at the sight. In an instant, an image presented itself to his mind of his youthful member sliding between this drab girl's pretty lips, and, just like that, his boredom dissipated. He opened his notebook, turned towards the front of the classroom, and started to pay attention to the lecture. When the professor finally slapped his folder shut and started to pack up, John gathered his stuff and laid a course to intercept Amy on her way out of the room. He had pegged her as a Serious Student, and he had decided how to play her. He managed to fall in beside her as if by chance, and as they were passing out of the classroom together, he said, "That lecture like really blew me away. Who'd have thought gifts had to be like repaid? Excuse me for just like talking to you, but that gift theory stuff really turned me on." Accustomed to being invisible, Amy was startled at being noticed and spoken to, and it took her a couple of seconds to collect herself. But she managed to say, "Yeah, it's fascinating." That was all the response John needed, for he was blessed with an easygoing manner and an open face that gave the impression that he was totally present and couldn't imagine anything in the world he'd rather be doing than talking to the girl who was there with him at that moment. And so it took him no time at all to steer the conversation around to the question, "I was just on my way to like Starbucks. I'd really like it if you'd like join me." And Amy, astounded to be asked by anyone to go anywhere at all, said, "Sure." At Starbucks, over lattes, John found it no trick at all to discover that he and Amy had astonishingly similar tastes in music, TV, and movies, and to work up to saying "I've really enjoyed talking to you. Do you think you'd like to, you know, go to dinner tonight?" "Sure, yeah," said Amy, pleased but not quite as astounded as she'd been at being invited to Starbucks - for she hadn't, after all, spent the first twenty years of her life on Neptune. Over dinner they discussed gift theory, a subject John found congenial, because he was, in truth, a firm believer in the principle that gifts had to be repaid. Indeed, he fully intended to invoke that principle this very night, after he'd picked up the check. Amy was a quiet girl who found conversation difficult, but John was marvelously easy to talk to. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, and it continued to flow as they walked together after dinner. Without their having planned it at all, they found themselves standing together on the sidewalk in front of John's fraternity house, and he said, "Look, Alpha Eta Pi isn't one of those, like, dangerous fraternities you read about. If you want to come in, I've got some wine, and we can talk." Smiling, for despite her lack of experience she was no fool, Amy said, "Okay," and soon found herself alone with him in his room, sitting beside him on his bed and sipping some very nice white wine, the conversation drifting pleasantly in ever more personal directions, gaining intensity seemingly on its own, John leaning forward a bit more as they talked till his face was very close indeed to hers, and he said, with charming diffidence, "Do you mind if I . . ." "Not at all," she said, and he kissed those pretty lips. This was, believe it or not, Amy's first serious kiss - the first one that was more than a peck - and she liked it. She liked it a lot. This was a thing you couldn't do with a dildo: you had to have a live person with you. Judging from John's responses, she thought she might just have a talent for it too, and what with the sensory stimulation of his lips touching hers and his tongue in her mouth (not to mention hers in his) and the gratification of feeling that she was actually having an effect on him, she was getting very turned on. And so when his hand brushed a breast, she breathed "Yes" into his mouth, and he became bolder and was soon kneading her breasts through her blouse. And when he plucked at her buttons with nervous fingers, she whispered "Oh, yes, please" into his ear, and soon she was naked from the waist up, and he was nibbling her pink and perky nipples as she moaned with pleasure. And when, with a practiced motion, he unbuttoned the button of her jeans, she whined "Yes," a long, drawn-out sigh of a syllable, and that emboldened him to put his hand into her pants and massage her pussy. And when his middle finger slipped over her clitoris and into her slit, she cried, "Oh, fuck, yeah!" and pushed down her own jeans to give him better access. He spent so long finger-fucking her that she decided he wasn't going to go down on her the way she was sure James Deen would have done by now: she'd have to take matters into her own hands. She unfastened his belt and, getting to her knees by the side of his bed, wrenched down his pants and peeled off his underwear. His cock, which had been uncomfortably confined in his pants for rather too long, sprang erect, and she said, "Oh, yeah!" at the sight of it. Not that it was such an impressive thing in itself - Shane Diesel and Rocco Siffredi had way better ones - but it was the first she'd ever seen in the flesh, and it was her toy tonight. She closed her lips over the smooth pink head of it - incidentally making real for a dumbfounded and delighted John the vision he'd had earlier that day when he'd seen her bite her lip - and was transported. Oh, she had lovely dildos in various sizes and shapes, and she'd sucked them all; but none of them were flesh, none of them warm and covered with soft, smooth skin, none of them engorged with real blood pumped from a furiously beating heart, none of them leaking pre-cum from the tip. She savored the sensation of his skin slipping over the exquisitely sensitive surface of her lips - the head, the flared corona, the shaft. With her tongue she caressed the frenum (she had made an exacting study of the penis and could name all its parts) as the glans penetrated deeper into her. "Fuck," exclaimed John, who was used to having to talk girls into giving him blowjobs. As his cock slid between her lips as slowly and smoothly as a hydraulic piston, he wondered how far in she would take it. He had no idea that, due to long and enthusiastic practice with Lexington-Steele-sized dildos, his cock, of which he thought so highly, posed no challenge at all to her. Thus he watched with growing astonishment as more and more of him disappeared into her, till finally her lips grazed his pubic hair and he started to slide out again. When the top of him reappeared, she said "Yes" to it with a hiss and began again. For a good ten minutes he watched as this dumpy nerd of a girl made love to his cock, massaging it with her lips on the upstroke and with her tonsils on the down. It was such a blowjob as he'd never dared to hope for, producing unbelievable sensations and raising his arousal to a pitch that he'd never experienced before. It all would have been perfect but for the nagging anxiety that this unappealing girl might prove difficult to get rid of once he was done with her. He needn't have worried, for he was, at this moment, nothing to Amy but a cock. But what a cock he was - producing far better sensations, as he slipped in and out of her throat, than the dildos she'd become so fond of! Surely the feel of this lovely cock in her pussy would be just as good. Abruptly she stood, shoved him onto his back, climbed onto the bed, straddling him, and sat down on him, marveling at the ease with which he slid into her sodden vagina. "Shit, yeah!" she sighed as she settled onto him, amazed at how good a cock felt inside her. She rode him with a vigorous bouncing sliding motion, making sure her clitoris got lots of stimulation and paying little attention to the stupefied visage of the frat boy who was now pinned to the bed under her. "Yeah! yeah! yeah!" she cried as he looked up at her round face, somehow transfigured by her passion into a state approaching prettiness, at her round, bouncing breasts with their lovely erect nipples, at her rounded belly, wide hips, and bushy snatch, which was doing impossible things to his nervous system. He was just sensing the approach of his orgasm, the moment around which he'd organized his whole day, when she emitted an ear-piercing screech and for what seemed the better part of a minute humped him with a wild abandon that he'd never witnessed in any of the sorority girls he was so proud of having poked here in his dingy frat house room. It was a bit annoying, frankly, her riotous orgasm. It threw him off his rhythm, and he wilted while it was going on. Reflecting with dismay that it really was far better when a girl pretended to come, he felt himself slip out of her. Amy climbed off him and assessed the situation. She was wet, but her experience of porn videos told her she wasn't nearly wet enough. She touched herself: nothing was leaking out of her. She examined John's cock: it wasn't as slimy as it ought to be. The boy hadn't come. Well, it was probably for the best, since she'd gotten carried away and fucked him without protection. Still, she was sorry for him - and wasn't there an opportunity here as well? "Let's make you come," she said, bent over him, put his limp cock in her mouth, and got to work restoring his erection. This task proved to be unexpectedly easy, for while John had serious problems with eating pussy himself (for reasons rooted more in ideology than in experience), he now discovered it to be a tremendous turn-on to see Amy's lips close around his empussied cock, which quickly regained its pleasing tumescence. Amy was well acquainted with the taste of her own pussy - that aspect of this experience was only mildly stimulating. What drove her wild right now was anticipating yet another of her porn video tropes - the mouthful of cum. What would it feel like when he erupted inside her? Would it be as slimy as it looked on her computer screen? What would it taste like? She hoped he'd come lots: she wanted a good sample of it. If John had been able to read Amy's thoughts, he would have enjoyed this blowjob a lot more than he did. To come in a girl's mouth is the very apex of sexual ambition for a young man of his age and station, and no girl had ever let him do it. And, oh, he so badly wanted to! He watched in terrified anticipation, hoping against hope that she'd let him, but knowing in his heart of hearts that at the last moment this heavenly blowjob would morph into a mundane handjob. Please, God, he thought: he couldn't look but had to look; he couldn't stop his pelvis thrusting, betraying the approach of the moment; any second now she'd pull away . . . oh fuck he was coming coming coming . . . And he watched in stunned disbelief as her lips remained sealed around his shaft, his sensations, his body's spasms, telling him that it was really happening, there inside her mouth, tantalizingly out of sight: he was spurting over her tongue, and she was letting it happen. His cum was warm and gunky; she couldn't describe the taste in terms of any food she knew. Yes, a little salty, yes, a little fatty - and what else? It was an indefinable flavor she'd just have to classify as "cum." And she liked it - no, she loved it - not for the taste, but for what it was doing to her pussy right now, blood again rushing in, arousal spiraling into the stratosphere. Amy let John's cock slip out of her mouth, looked into his watchful face, and swallowed. "Yeah," she whispered, and proceeded to lick the residue of his semen off his cock. John was all but lost in ecstasy - and yet this was a dangerous moment, too, when she would try to stake a claim, extracting a promise that he'd call her, and he'd have to decide whether to let her down easy or just lie. Because this was not the kind of girl he'd be proud to take on as a girlfriend and show off to his fraternity brothers. She was obviously an incredible slut - that was the only way to explain the way she'd done all the things he most wanted a woman to do. You didn't make a girlfriend of even a good-looking slut, and this one was ugly. He needn't have worried, because Amy was being battered by a storm surge of horniness for which she knew she would find no relief here: she was eager to get home to her toys and her journal. She was already planning a revision of the Amy Scale, because she'd just had an orgasm which exceeded the descriptive power of her current system. So when she'd gotten what she wanted from his cock, she stood, picked her clothes up off the grimy floor, and started to put them on, regarding him all the while with impassive gray eyes. Tense and uncertain, John watched her dress. Why was she so silent? When would she put the question? She never did. Instead, when she was dressed, she said, "Thanks. Bye." And with that, she let herself out of his room and the Alpha Eta Pi fraternity house, and set out in the direction of her dormitory. John went downstairs to the kitchen, where he snagged a beer, and thence to the common room, where he found a lone brother lounging, the others being out, or in, on dates. "Jesus, Mike," he said. "I just fucked the ugliest girl at the university, and she was like this amazing slut." Amy Says Yes "A cunt's a cunt, eh, Bro?" grinned Mike. "What did you say her name was?" "Amy, um, Martin. No - Amy Marsh." 2. Coffee with Mike Back in her dorm room, Amy undressed, showered, put on a nighty, selected some toys from her top dresser drawer, and reviewed the night's events. Clearly the Amy Scale would have to be revised, since she'd already decided that her orgasm with what's-his-name, the frat boy, had rated twelve on her one-to-ten scale ("Sex with jerk, cowgirl, A121"). But how high should the scale go? Twenty? Fifty? She had no way of knowing how good an orgasm could get. Nor was she sure she'd ever find out. She wasn't dumb enough to believe she'd just found a boyfriend. She recognized what she'd just experienced as a hookup, and that was fine with her: by the end of the evening she'd correctly sized up her date as shallow and dim, and she didn't want to see him again. She did, however, want more nights like tonight. She lubricated a vibrating butt plug, lay on her back, inserted it, and turned it on. Applying an egg vibrator to her clitoris, she wondered how she could go about getting more sex. By the time she'd brought herself off ("Vibrators ass and clit, A061"), she was no closer to an answer. She was, however, much calmer and more relaxed, and she went to bed and slept soundly. Fortune was smiling on Amy, for, if what's-his-name had put her out of his mind, Mike, the brother he'd met in the common room, had not. Indeed, Mike had looked her up in the online campus directory, and at the precise moment that Amy's sphincter was delightfully contracting around the stem-end of her butt plug, her name and email were flashing onto his computer screen. By the time she'd had her orgasm, he had composed what he thought a very fine email to her: Amy Says Yes Amy turned towards George (or rather towards his cock) and admired him as she pumped. His shaft was dark chocolate, glans a rich plum, skin silky and unblemished: he grew rapidly in her hand, and while he was no Lexington Steele, he was satisfactory - long enough, and very thick. Mouth watering, she wrapped her free arm around one trousered thigh and pulled him to her. "Yeah!" she said enthusiastically a split second before the big purple glans plugged up the passage to her larynx, cutting off her speech. What a day of wonders this was! A mere twenty-four hours before, she had never sucked a cock, and now she'd had four! And while none of them was quite as good as the ones she'd seen in videos, she loved the variety: one average, one king-sized, one uncut, one black! George now followed Will's lead, seizing Amy's head, fucking her vigorously and occasionally giving her a sharp pull. She spluttered and coughed, and the spot of drool on the floor between her legs grew into a puddle. Another male voice called, "Dude, where's the pizza? Whoa!" Within seconds she was sucking a third cock - long and thin, with a purplish head - while Will and George stroked themselves, waiting for their turns to come around again. Soon Will had another turn, and George, and the new guy, who grabbed her ears and slammed into her throat with a sadistic chuckle, and it occurred to Amy that maybe the idea of the fraternity had more to recommend it than she'd guessed - it was so impressive the way they were sharing and sharing alike. After they'd each had four or five turns, Will pulled out of Amy's mouth and, with a firm hand on top of her head, aimed his cock at her nose and jerked off; whereupon the other two crowded in and did the same. Here was another of Amy's porn-driven fantasies about to come true: she was going to get her very first facial! She opened her mouth wide, porn-star style, and waited, hyperventilating, heart pounding. Her gazed shifted from cock to cock - it was so exciting, three of them pointing at her, little slits winking as the boys pumped themselves like shotguns. She resisted the urge to close her eyes, wanting to see when the cum jetted out of them. She steeled herself: she wouldn't flinch. The last boy was the first to come, delivering eight or nine powerful and well-aimed spurts square on the nose - it splattered, and she felt the warm goo ooze down her cheeks. Next was Will, who rested the tip of his cock on her lower lip and filled her nearly to overflowing. She paused to swallow when he was done, because that's what her favorite pornstars did: she made a show of forcing it down. Was it her imagination, or was Will's cum sweeter than what's-his-name's had been the night before? Finally George seized a fistful of her hair, yanked her towards him, and let fly, aiming for her eyes: his cum splashed on her glasses and ran off onto her cheeks as the other two cheered, "All right!" When they were spent, Amy peered through messy lenses at the proprietors of the three cocks she'd just sucked. "Amy, meet George," said Will, gesturing towards the black guy, and Amy smiled and said, "Hi, George." "And this is Theo," Will continued, indicating the other, who had a scruffy beard, a trilby hat, and a lopsided grin. He was holding in his hand a rapidly shrinking cock, from the end of which a milky drop hung precariously. "Hi, Theo," said Amy, and licked the end of his cock. His whole body twitched, and he gasped, "Fuck!" Staring at Amy, Will said to his brothers, "Despite what George said about Amy's looks, which has an element of truth in it, you have to admit she looks very fine drenched in cum." The other two repeated "Very fine" after him. Will continued, handing her a towel, "I was just telling her that the men of Alpha appreciate true womanhood - and I think we can all agree that Amy here is a true woman - the kind that understands a man's needs and knows exactly how to satisfy them!" "True, true," said George, and Theo said "Damned straight." Amy was puzzled. She hadn't given a thought to the needs of these guys: she honestly didn't give a fuck about them. She opened her mouth to say so, but decided the whole thing was too complicated to explain - and anyway, she was likely to get more mileage out of simply saying "Thank you," which she did. "It sounds like the party's warming up!" Will boomed as Amy toweled dry. "Let's go check it out. Amy, I think you'll want a little something to wash down all that spunk, eh?" "I guess," she said. Will took her arm again, and the two of them led the others from the kitchen - Amy casting a longing backwards glance at her half-eaten slice of pizza. It was still early for a fraternity party, but about twenty people had already gathered. "Hey Hey!" cried Will, "there's Jackie, the house slut! Let me introduce you to her, Amy!" He towed her towards a mousy, skinny brown-haired girl wearing a skimpy blue party dress with a zipper in front. She gave Amy a scared look. "Babe!" Will exclaimed, and clasped Jackie in a full-body hug, cupping a cheek of her narrow ass in his beefy hand. "Amy," he continued, "this is Jackie, our house slut. She's a senior, and kind of on call to fuck any of the brothers that can't find dates on any particular night. We're very proud of her: not many fraternities can boast so fine a slut. We're going to feel the loss keenly when she graduates - if you get my drift." Amy got his drift, but decided not to say anything but "Hi, Jackie." "Hi, Amy," said Jackie in a thin, squeaky voice that matched her look precisely. "Jackie, why don't you help Amy get a beer and introduce her around a bit? I'll see you both real soon." He gave Jackie a quick peck on the cheek. He turned towards Amy as if to do the same for her, hesitated, and reached around her awkwardly to pat her on the back. Then he hurried away. As Jackie led Amy towards the kegs, she said in a nearly inaudible voice, "Don't let them make you their house slut, whatever you do." "Why not?" asked Amy. "Come sit with me," Jackie whispered urgently, and steered Amy towards some plastic-covered seats by a wall. Jackie started her story before they were even seated. "I thought the brothers were like really cool when I first started going to their parties," Jackie sobbed, "but they're really horrible. The first boy I met - he's graduated now - told me he loved me and was really sweet, or so I thought. But he broke up with me after just a month: he said any girl who let him do the things I let him do - like fucking my face and coming in my mouth - couldn't be trusted to be faithful. "I was devastated, but another of the brothers comforted me and told me he loved me better than the first one, and I'd be his forever. I really wanted to keep him so I let him do all the things the first brother did and ass-fuck me too. When he broke up with me after just a couple of weeks, he had a third brother in the room with him who he said was really into me and didn't care that I was a skank, so it wasn't really a loss at all, you see. And that third one lasted just a week, and pretty soon they were like 'Go see Bob for a fuck,' or 'Jake needs a blowjob,' or 'Dave wants a rimjob,' passing me around and not even pretending to have a relationship with me . . ." Jackie broke down here and collapsed against Amy's shoulder. Amy patted her awkwardly until she was able to resume. "And then they started to fuck me two at a time or make me have sex right here in the common room during parties. So I got this reputation that followed me like everywhere. I tried to quit the Greek scene and moved into a dorm, but even they knew about me there from all the talk about me on Yik Yak, so boys would like knock on my door at two in the morning wanting an ass-fuck. Since I couldn't escape it, I ended up coming back . . ." Jackie buried her face in her hands and sobbed, and when she'd recovered a little, she looked up at Amy with damp eyes and said, "Oh, Amy, what'll I do?" Amy thought about that for a minute. She liked the idea of having sex with lots of random men - she wanted the life of a porn star, not of a girlfriend - but becoming the property of a fraternity and being passed around like a toy sounded stupid. She didn't have an answer to Jackie's question, though. "I don't know," she said. Jackie looked at her as if she'd said something profoundly wise. "C'mon, let's get a beer," she said. 4. Jackiebang Amy didn't want a beer. It had occurred to her, as Will was coming in her mouth, that she should record penises and semen in her journal alongside orgasms, and her head was buzzing with ideas for classification schemes. Between that and the necessity of remembering the details of the five cocks she'd made use of and the two loads of cum she'd swallowed, she was determined to keep a clear head. So she just carried around the beer Jackie gave her, occasionally taking the opportunity to pour a little of it out into empty cups she found on tables and shelves around the room. She stuck close to Jackie. She could see why she made a good house slut: she was so meek, she just invited abuse. Amy wanted to shake her, or even hit her, but she didn't think that would change her way of thinking. Still, she liked Jackie, who was kind and possessed a wan prettiness that Amy found appealing. Practically every female porn star was bi, at least on camera: Amy wondered if she'd enjoy oral sex with her. She added it to her mental to-do list. Nearby, a male voice shouted, "Hey, Jackie! How 'bout a blowjob here?" "Oh, no!" Jackie whimpered so quietly only Amy could hear. A skinny boy with a rat-like face emerged from the crowd, clutching his crotch. "Man, it's been so long since I got any nooky, my balls are about to explode. You gotta help me out, babe." "Sure, Danny," Jackie whined, and got to her knees in front of the boy as he pulled out his half-limp cock. Without preliminary kisses or licks, she took him in her hand, put him in her mouth, and sucked. A number of boys gathered in a circle to watch. Jackie's technique was energetic but without feeling: it was obvious that her sole purpose was to get Danny off as quickly as possible. This subtlety, however, was lost on the laughing, cheering boys gathered in a tight circle around her. Here and there a girl clinging to her date's side called, "Yeah, suck that cock, slut!" or "Swallow it, bitch!" Amy wondered what her Anthro professor would think of the scene. The only boy who didn't seem to be having fun was Mike, who stood back a little, watching but not smiling or cheering. What was the expression on his face? Distaste? Dismay? Will was standing a few feet away from Amy, and next to him was a blond boy who said, "Man, it's gonna be hard times when Jackie graduates." "Not as bad as you think, Winston," said Will. "We've got our new slut lined up already. A few of us have given her a test drive, and she rocks." Will grabbed Amy's hand and hauled her to his side. Winston said, "Dude! She looks just like a toad!" "She looks a lot better with her lips wrapped around your cock," said Will. "Whatever you say, man," said Winston. "I'm gonna get a piece of Jackie while the getting's good." He crowded in beside Danny, unzipped, and pulled himself out. Jackie let Danny slip from her mouth and, sighing tiredly, sucked Winston's cock. Amy watched, turned on even though Jackie wasn't having fun. In a low voice, Will said to someone on the other side of him, "You coming to the big sendoff, man? Just fifty - totally worth it." Another voice answered, "The Jackiebang? Wouldn't miss it, dude. Does she know anything?" "Not a thing. It's gonna be a big surprise." Somebody put on "Drunk in Love," and Amy couldn't hear any more, but just watched as Danny unzipped Jackie's dress, which fell open, revealing a slender, pretty body. He shoved her to the floor, tore off her panties, rolled on a condom, and thrust into her while Winston, on one knee by her head, pushed into her mouth. Jackie had the wrong attitude, that was it. She was letting them use her. Amy wanted to be on the floor there fucking Danny and Winston - they'd be her toys, though, serving her needs. The action would be exactly the same, and everything would be different. Winston and Danny traded places, Danny squatting above Jackie's head and pressing his tense, tight balls into her mouth. Jackie raised her hands reflexively, as if to push him away, but let them fall again. She hardly reacted as Winston pressed into her, though Amy knew she'd be squirming and moaning in her place - especially when Danny turned around and drove deep into her throat, which bulged as he fucked her. A boy standing beside Amy shouted into her ear so he could be heard over the music: "These Alphas know fuck-all about women." Amy looked: he was smooth and neatly groomed, with a charcoal suit and a pink tie. She liked the look of him. "How so?" she shouted back. The music ended, and he said, hurriedly before another song could begin, "They've got no respect for women: they just use them up. Now my fraternity has a completely different philosophy. The men of Sigma Upsilon Kappa treat the women who visit our house as human beings and honored guests." "That sounds nice," said Amy. "Take oral sex, for example," he said. "My name's Roy, by the way." "Hi, Roy. I'm Amy." "I know - you're famous. Now they're fucking Jackie's face, but do they ever give her any head? I don't think so." "And you do at Sigma?" "It's a requirement. We don't let in boys who objectify and degrade women. To prove they have the right attitude, they have to demonstrate that they can eat pussy. Rush is a great week for our house slut!" "I'll bet," said Amy. "I'd love to show you some respect," said Roy. "What girl doesn't like respect?" said Amy, reaching for the button of her jeans. Giving her a wicked grin, Roy took her hand and pulled her over to a big leather chair in a corner. "Sit there," he said. Amy pushed down her jeans and panties, sat, leaned back, and spread her legs. Someone put on "Timber." "A good song to go down by," said Roy, kneeling between Amy's legs. He gazed at her pussy, reached out, and petted her mound like a guinea pig. "You ever think of shaving this?" he asked. "Every day," she said. He leaned in and sniffed. "Powerful bouquet," he said. "I've been wet since like four." "I see," he said, and gave her clitoris a soft lick. Here was another new experience to savor. The difference between Roy's tongue and her finger wasn't just that his tongue was wetter and softer (though those were nice things), but also that the tongue was his, not hers - she had to give up some control to him and trust him with her body's most sensitive spot. That was a turn-on, especially since she didn't know anything about this guy. Her pussy tasted good, and the skin of her fleshy thighs was smooth and white. He spread her labia with his fingers, revealing the inside of her, damp and luscious pink. He licked up and down her inner labia and up the middle of her to her clit, where he drew circles with the tip of his tongue and, when she sighed and wiggled, gave her a little suck. Roy liked eating pussy - he liked it a lot, knowing what it usually led to. His frat's unofficial slogan was "The road to a blowjob runs through the cunt": if you wanted a girl to service you, you had to give a little, and eating pussy was a small enough thing, even if it was kind of fishy. Roy was good at it. He ate Amy patiently, waiting for his turn. Amy had never been eaten before, and she was in no hurry, especially now that they were drawing a crowd and she was starting to get turned on being watched. She'd have to add exhibitionism to the other weirdnesses she'd been discovering over the last couple of days. There was what's-his-name from last night, staring at her pussy; there was George, discreetly touching himself through his pocket; there was Danny with a blonde in a red sequined dress clinging to his side. There was Mike, too, but Mike wasn't looking at Amy. She followed his gaze: it was Jackie he was staring at, now slumped in a plastic chair by the wall, ignored by the crowd. Rob was getting impatient. When would she get the memo about reciprocating when a guy ate you? He'd step things up, try to make the message clearer. He put his hands under her thighs, hoisted her legs, and licked her ass. He'd done this before, of course. It was part of the Sigma philosophy: if you rimmed a girl, that was like an exclamation point on your ministrations, a signal that your fuse was getting short and she'd better fucking get moving. But there was something different and exciting about this girl's ass. It was loose and damp; his tongue slipped into it. It had an odd flavor, too: not shit, just odd. It was disquieting, but there was nothing wrong with it: he decided she probably had low muscle tone and an eccentric body chemistry, maybe related to diet, and he drilled into her. Amy stared, liking the look of Rob's nose disappearing behind her mound and the feel of a tongue in her ass, which was still sensitive after the stretching Mike had given it. It was so warm, so wet, so intimate! Not only was it a turn-on, but her reputation as a slut seemed secure now that dozens of people were watching a boy lick her ass: she'd get a lot more sex out of this. Rob was falling in love with Amy's asshole - the flavor, the way he could put his tongue inside, the way she was writhing, emitting little shrieks when he tongue-fucked her. She wasn't playing the sophisticate: she was a woman in the throes of passion. On an impulse, he reached around one chubby thigh, located her clit, and rubbed hard. Amy shrieked and bucked, mind and body zooming out of control - she couldn't slow things down, didn't want to, but let herself go and came with a scream that drowned out Rihanna's thumping dance tune. The crowd cheered, and someone shouted, "Suck his cock, Amy!" Okay, she was willing to suck his cock. She struggled to a sitting position, and he sat back with a dazed look. The end of his nose was wet. "Stand up, baby," she said. His cock was ridiculously hard: she had a job getting it out of his pants. But it was a good one, uncut and with olive skin, not thick but nice and long, with a bluish glans already peeking out. She slid the foreskin back; her mouth watered; she leaned forward and let him slide into her. Off to one side she heard Will say, "What did I tell you? Incredible cocksucker." She imagined word spreading through all the fraternities and all the dorms, over GChat and on Facebook: Amy Marsh, incredible cocksucker. As she sucked, she rubbed her pussy with one hand and put the other on his ass, pulling her to him so everyone could see her deep throat him. Rob pushed her down so her back was flat on the big chair, head propped against the back, ass hanging off. She lifted her legs, exposing her whole undercarriage to him so he could take his choice of holes and so everyone could see: she didn't care if they liked what they saw, as long as they looked at her. Rob stopped and stared, trying to decide - then plunged into her pussy and fucked her so furiously her thighs, belly and tits jiggled. "Yeah!" she yelled, "Fuck me!" and the crowd echoed "Fuck her! Fuck her!" as "Pull Up to the Bumper" boomed from the speakers. When Grace Jones belted "I've got lots of space for everyone," Rob yanked himself free, and his cum arced over her, splattering her belly, breasts, neck and glasses. The crowd cheered and applauded, but soon began to disperse as people spotted friends or noticed more interesting things going on in the room. Amy picked up her clothing and went off to find a bathroom. When she got back, Jackie was sitting against a wall looking desolate, invisible to the partygoers, who were talking, laughing, flirting, and backslapping. Amy Says Yes Amy set a course for Jackie, but Mike intercepted her. "Um, Amy, do you think you'd want to . . ." "Later, Mike," she said. "Come with me." She caught his hand and hauled him over to where Jackie was sitting. "Do you know this guy?" she demanded. "Yeah. Hi, Mike." Jackie smiled at him shyly as he shifted from foot to foot. "Hi, Jackie," said Mike, looking at his feet. "Did you ever fuck him? Big cock, upturned?" "No, he never asked," said Jackie. Mike shook his head. "Tell us about the Jackiebang, Mike," said Amy. Mike glanced left and right, as if looking for an escape route. "She's not supposed to know," he said. "It's a surprise." "Not anymore," said Amy. "It's like a combination going away party and April Fools' thing." "And fundraiser." "Well, yeah. We go through a lot of beer here. We gotta hold fundraisers now and then." "You should raise your dues, then," said Amy. "So you're luring Jackie here on some pretense . . ." "They told me they're having a dinner in my honor," Jackie whispered. "On April first." "And then you gangbang her." "I should have guessed it," said Jackie, eyes filling with tears. "Will said she'd love it," said Mike. "Mike," said Amy with an exasperated sigh, "she'd hate it. She doesn't want to be a slut, she's never wanted that. She wants to be a girlfriend." "Really?" said Mike, wide eyed. "Yeah," breathed Jackie, gazing at him soulfully. "Why don't you two go upstairs and get acquainted," said Amy. "I'll stay here and entertain the troops. We'll talk more about this Jackiebang tomorrow." 5. April Fools' Day Natty in a tuxedo, Will strutted to the front of the common room and addressed his assembled brothers and the guests of Alpha Eta Pi in his most sonorous voice and grandest manner. "Welcome to the celebration of our beloved slut Jackie. Most of us have known her (in the various senses of that word) since she alighted on our doorstep as a mere freshman nearly four years ago. She dated a few of our brothers early on, but soon discovered that, for her, the more satisfying relationship was with the fraternity as a whole. Few indeed are the Alpha men for whom she has not, at some time or other, relieved the loneliness of a night when a girlfriend was out of town, soothed the pain when a sought-after date failed to materialize, or calmed the nerves before an exam or a big game. "She is a shining exemplar of womanhood, selflessly giving of herself to satisfy the needs of the men she loves. Tonight, to show our appreciation and our love, we are going to give her what her heart most desires - the opportunity to achieve a deeper satisfaction by serving a much larger number of men. "She knows nothing of this: her native modesty might have kept her away if she'd known what we were planning on her behalf. Indeed, that same modesty may prompt her to pretend to resist our desire to honor her in the way she'll appreciate most. But knowing her heart and mind as we do, we can proceed with our celebration in the confidence that what we do for her tonight will meet her needs much more than it does ours. "She will come through that door at any moment, and I will prepare her for the celebration." He held up a pair of handcuffs and a whip, and the crowd applauded. "All you need to do is follow my lead. Now let us wait respectfully for our guest of honor." Will stood by the door and surveyed the crowd. It was a satisfaction that so many had turned out: around fifty, if he guessed rightly, paying fifty a head. That would come to around twenty-five hundred dollars for the chapter - pure profit, since they were providing no food or drink, nothing but the slut, who was free. He considered passing the time by taking a head count, but what was the point? Mike, who was collecting the money at the door, would give him an exact accounting later. He glanced at his watch. It was two minutes after eight. The fucking slut was always late. He probably should punish her for that, but what would be the point? Bitches like that were wired for getting decent grades, but not for learning the important lessons of life. The new slut, Amy, would be much more satisfactory, even if she was a dog - the way she always said yes promised great things. She'd probably be just as stupid as Jackie, but at least you wouldn't have to argue her into a butt-fuck. Eight-fifteen. The guys were getting restless. "Don't worry," Will announced. "Jackie's sometimes late, but she's reliable. I personally guarantee she'll be here soon. In the meantime, we'll break out some beers from our ample stock." He nodded at Theo and George, who ran to the kitchen and returned a couple of minutes later pushing a cart laden with cases of Miller, which they distributed among the brothers and guests. Eight twenty-five. Will went to the house office to call Jackie. There was no answer. He left an urgent message: "Babe, get your ass over here." Eight thirty-five. The guests were grumbling about rip-offs. Will sent Theo to find a number for Amy Marsh. It took him ten minutes to find it, but at least she answered her cell on the first ring. "Babe!" Will exclaimed in relief. "Can you get over here ASAP? We totally need a slut, and we can't find Jackie." "Sorry, Will, I've got a date." "But you're the girl that always says yes!" "I already said yes to somebody else." "Look, if you want to be the Alpha house slut . . ." "I don't." Amy ended the call with a sense of satisfaction. It was her twenty-first birthday: it was a pain, being an April Fools' baby, but this had been a good one. She had celebrated by going to a beauty salon, where she'd said, "Do whatever you can." The stylist had swallowed hard and set to work, and Amy thought the result not half bad, really. Then she'd bought a tiny black fuck-me dress. She picked up her purse, made sure she had her driver's license and some other things, and headed for the door. Rob had invited her to a party at Sigma Upsilon Kappa, and she didn't want to be late. Back at Alpha house, Will said, "Where's Mike?" "Dunno, dude," said George. "Check his room. We're gonna have to refund these guys their money." But Mike wasn't in his room, wasn't in the games room, wasn't anywhere. Neither was the gray steel cash box in which Mike had been keeping the day's receipts. Nine o'clock. Will drooped back to the common room, followed by George and Theo. Some fifty horny and angry men turned to stare at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but what was there to say? "Where's the slut, dude?" asked a beefy guy, big as a fullback. Will took one step backwards towards the door. "Where's our fuckin' money," said another even bigger jock. Will, George, and Theo turned in unison, like water ballerinas, and ran. Amy was puzzled that there was no one checking IDs at the door of Sigma house and no people coming and going. There didn't seem to be a party. Well, maybe it was a little one - either that or she'd gotten the date wrong and trekked all the way over to Fraternity Row for nothing. She tried the door, and finding it unlocked, let herself in. The house was quiet. She passed a big empty living room, a dining room, and a kitchen before she heard indistinct male voices from somewhere farther along. She came to an intersection in the hallway and listened. The voices were coming from the right. She followed the sound to a closed door, which she put her ear to, but couldn't make out what they were saying. She opened the door and stepped inside. Four boys turned and gave her a stony look. Rob and three Alphas, Will, George and Theo, stood in a cluster near a big pool table, looking as if they'd been deep in conversation. She thought about running, but decided it would do no good. "Where's Jackie?" Will demanded. "Where's Mike?" "Where's the party you invited me to?" Amy asked Rob. "Where's our fucking money?" snarled Theo. "So many questions," said Rob. "Let's take 'em one at a time. Let's see. The party. That was gonna be an April Fools' Day joke. You would come here looking for a party, but instead you'd find me here by myself because my brothers were all out being silly here and there. You would comfort me in my loneliness." "Kind of a lame joke," said Amy, "but it would have been fun." Rob continued, "My plan got derailed when these Alphas came running in with a mob of like fifty pissed off guys on their tails, all with hard-ons. I helped calm things down, and when the four of us laid our heads together we figured out you'd be able to tell us what the fuck is going on." "So tell me where our slut is," said Will, "and Mike." "They're your people. I hardly know them." George said, "Been chatting with my homies, hearing you've been seen around a lot with Mike and Jackie the last few days." He held his phone up as if it were evidence. "We hung out a little. So what?" "Fuck this," said Theo. "Let's just beat the shit out of her till she coughs up our money." He clenched his fists and did a totally convincing impression of a thug. Amy took a step backwards. "You guys are nuts." George grabbed her wrist and hauled her into the room. Theo made a run at the door, slammed it shut, and wheeled to face her. "You think you were ugly before, wait till we're done with you." Amy looked at Rob. "Are you going to let this happen in your frat house?" "Hey," Rob shrugged. "The Alphas are a brother house, and the honor of the Greek system is at stake. Just give them their money, and nothing bad will happen." "I don't have it." Will said, "Punch her in the face, Theo, and see if that changes her mind." Theo grinned and raised a hand. Terrified, Amy blurted, "I'll pay you back!" "Now we're getting somewhere," said Will. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "The money's gone, and I can't get it back for you, but I'll pay you in kind." Will gave her a suspicious look. "What do you mean?" "Mike took fifty each from forty-eight guys," said Amy. "Twenty-four hundred dollars. What do you think you'd have to pay for a four-on-one? I'm not talking about shares in a rape; I mean a real gangbang with a willing girl." "A whore," said Rob. "Yeah, if you want to put it that way. It'd cost you a lot more than fifty. Make it, let's see, six hundred a head. That sounds about right." Rob stared. "You're saying . . ." Heart thumping, Amy said, "I'll pay you in sex." The boys watched glassy-eyed as Amy set down her purse, reached behind her, unhooked her dress, and wiggled out of it. Underneath she wore a black bra and panties, which she took off and dropped on the floor. If she was no beauty, she was plenty good enough: her hair was done in a cute bob, her pretty lips red, her face smooth and round, eyebrows sculptured, breasts swelling, pussy shaved. Everything about her screamed "Fuck me!" She picked up her purse, went to the pool table, and shook its contents out onto the felt: half a dozen condoms, a little bottle of lubricant, a driver's license. She put the license back along with her glasses and set the purse on the floor. "You know I'm a good fuck," she said. "Anyway, my body is all I've got to give you, so you'll have to take it or leave it." "It's a good offer, brothers," said Rob, staring at Amy's prominent nipples. "She's right that the price is a lot fairer than what you were asking for Jackie." "What do we do about paying back fifty bucks to all those guys?" said Will. "Not my problem," said Amy. "Dig into your treasury. I'm sure you've got it. Or do what I'm doing and let them fuck you for it." "Very funny," said Will. Amy scanned the boys quickly - their crotches, not their faces. Yes! Theo had a hard-on. Her heart was still pounding: her body wanted to make a dash for the door, but she willed herself to be calm. She closed the space between them, moving smoothly, a cat stalking a bird, and stroked his cock through his pants. He stood still, face expressionless. "Here I am," she purred, reaching for his belt buckle, "just a weak little girl shut up in a room with four big strong men, and I need a fuck so bad!" In another second Theo's pants were around his ankles and she was on her knees, sucking his cock. Unbuttoning his shirt, Rob said, "I thought I'd have this bitch to myself tonight, but if I've got to share her, well, what the fuck." Naked, he pressed in beside Theo, and Amy turned to suck him, holding Theo in her hand to make sure he didn't get away. Amy's ploy seemed to be working, but she was still terrified. Sure, she had decided to be a slut and was happy with her decision, but her other exploits so far - even the three blowjobs in the Alpha kitchen - were a walk on the beach compared to what she was setting out to do now. She'd invited these four boys, three of them seriously pissed off, to gangbang her: what would they do? She'd watched gangbang videos and wondered how some of the girls got through the scene, the men were so rough. Still, Rob's cock was heavenly - its olive tone, the foreskin, the big glans, all the details she'd lovingly recorded in her journal. She remembered how good it felt in her pussy; sucking it was like greeting an old friend. At the edge of her vision, Will and George were stripping: four votes for a gangbang, then, and none for a beating. Soon all four of them were crowded around and she was deep throating them one after the other as they pulled her to them by the hair and fondled her breasts and bottom. So far so good. No one was hitting her - not hard, anyway - and she'd done this before. Four cocks were thirty-three percent better than three! Amy was sucking Theo again when suddenly he pulled out of her, scooped her up with strong arms under her back and thighs, and carried her to the pool table, where he tossed her onto the felt. She landed on her back with a thump, heart still pounding, but with excitement now rather than fear as Theo leapt onto the table, got to his knees, hoisted her by the waist, and rammed into her. Rob protested, "Look out for the felt, man," but Will and George, ignoring him, climbed on and half-knelt on either side of Amy's head. She turned towards Will, who shoved between her lips and fucked her throat in a kind of frenzy. Rob stared at the pretty creases in Amy's tummy; his gaze roved up past her fleshy, jiggling breasts, heaving with excitement, to her face, so sexy with Will and George pummeling her. She reminded him of that plump Italian porn star, Valentina something - so hot! Well, they'd have to replace the felt whether he joined in or not. With a sigh, he climbed onto the pool table, straddled Amy's head as Will and George backed up to give him room, and squatted, pushing his cock into her shapely mouth. "Mmmff," said Amy as Rob's balls pillowed over her nose. She stared into his crack, at his hairy anus. Her stomach lurched and she turned her head, losing Rob for a moment; but she recovered quickly, spat out a mouthful of drool, and went back for more of him. Amy wasn't afraid anymore. She was still getting some of the buzz you get from fear, but it had morphed into arousal - not an impulse to flee, but a desperate need for more excitement, more intensity! So when Rob pulled out of her, she gasped, "Somebody fuck my ass!" George shouted "Me!" and lay on his back, holding his thick erect cock. The others hauled Amy upright, and she stepped over him, facing his feet, and eased herself down on him, gasping with the momentary pain and then letting him stretch her slowly, slowly, till he was all the way in. She rocked on George's cock to stimulate herself, let her legs fall wide open, and rubbed her clit. "Oh, yeah!" she sighed as Will's cock loomed on one side of her and Theo's on the other. She sucked them both. Rob stared, mesmerized, at Amy's pussy. He loved a shaved mound, fat outer labia, inner lips hot pink and floppy: Amy's, now gaping at him hungrily, was the pussy of his dreams. For a moment he felt dizzy; he shook his head to clear it, hunkered down between her legs, and pushed into her. Nothing was happening to Amy's body that hadn't happened already in the last few days, but now it was happening all at once. Her sensory input circuits were so overloaded she couldn't sort out the feelings, and it seemed, somehow, to be adding up to way more than four fucks as the boys crowded in, their hot and sweaty bodies suffocating her; they pawed her, pushed her, pulled her, spanked her breasts and bottom, called her bitch and cunt - so fucking exciting. For the better part of an hour they took turns in all her holes, till she was sore and dreamy with tiredness. She didn't know how or when it happened, but somehow it seemed to her she was out of her body, a camera looking down on the action from a corner of the ceiling, seeing herself, plain little Amy, pudgy Amy, red and sweaty Amy, nipples puffed out, snatch dripping, every hole stuffed with these boys who, fucking her, believed they were controlling her and running this show. But no, no, no! This was her movie, she was the star, and the boys were nothing more than extras, brought on to play her worshipers. All the women she'd seen in her favorite porn videos flashed through her mind. How many of them were great beauties? Not fucking many. It was the ability to create sexual excitement that made a porn star, not an actress's beauty, and she knew she could do that. She gazed into the lens that was her own disembodied eye, and through it into the transported faces of thousands of men watching her fuck, wanking in their home offices while their wives, slaving in the kitchen, thought they were doing the taxes - and all at once the sensations went supernova inside her, way beyond anything she'd known with her dildos and vibrators, with what's-his-name in her pussy or Mike in her ass, and she reared back from the cock she'd been sucking and howled out her orgasm, coming and coming, who knows how long, till she was spent and numb and back in her perforated body again. "Fuck," said Rob, whose cock she'd been sucking when her orgasm struck. Understanding that he'd witnessed a seismic event, he watched, struck dumb, cock pulsing in his hand. Will, who'd been fucking her pussy, stood up, grabbed her by the neck, and pulled her up to him. "Yeah, give it to me!" she shrilled, and he put the end of him into her mouth and jerked himself off, just a few rapid strokes before he filled her with his cum - it was thicker than last time, but still sweet. Below her, Theo pulled out of her ass, and his cum fountained up onto her belly and breasts while George gave her face a liberal coating of milky, runny spunk. Finally Rob woke from his trance. Overcome with lust, he jammed into her mouth and, holding her head in two hands, banged her savagely, balls slapping her chin. He stared down at her, taking in her open eyes, his shaft pistoning in her face as her lips and nose crashed into his belly over and over, the sensation of his cock in her narrow passage, impossibly deep, the loud fluid slopping inside her. Her beauty was inconceivable, unbearable: in a spasm of passion, he held her to him tightly, face smashed against him, and pumped his huge load into her, flooding her throat, her mouth and sinuses; it streamed from her nose. They stood and watched as she spluttered and coughed and finally sneezed a glob of Rob's cum into the valley between her breasts. It ran over her stomach and onto her mound. "God damn," said Rob reverently. Many miles away, Jackie and Mike cuddled together, blanket over the two of them, as the 787 leveled off at thirty-five thousand feet. Under the blanket, Mike toyed with Jackie's pussy through her tight yoga pants. Amy Says Yes "When I get you to Fort Lauderdale, baby . . ." he whispered, barely audible above the engines' hum. "Ooh," Jackie squealed. Her voice was like a squeaky hinge, but to him it was celestial music. "I'm totally gonna fuck you silly." "I can't wait, sweetheart. And in the morning I'm gonna slather suntan lotion all over you . . ." Mike groaned "Oh, baby." She was stroking his thigh, so close to his cock. It seemed too long till she'd be sucking it in their hotel room. "And we'll hit the beach, and eat lots of seafood, and dance, and we'll fuck again . . ." "Oh, yeah," Mike sighed. Who gave a shit about a week of classes? This was the last semester of their senior year and no one expected them to do serious schoolwork. And how often does it happen that you find the love of your life and within a few days of that get twenty-four hundred dollars dropped in your lap with orders to spend it fast? God bless Amy: it had all been her plan. Back in her dorm room, lying on her tummy, the object of Mike's gratitude closed her journal ("Apr. 1. Four frat boys, A197," with details of cocks and cum). She pulled her laptop to her and navigated to a site that recruited college girls for hardcore porn shoots. She found the contact page and started to fill in the form there: Name, Date of Birth, Recent Photo, Kinks . . . Behind, Rob's wet and worshipful tongue slid into her, a sweet lubricious counterpoint to the sensuous staccato of the keyboard. She wiggled her bottom and filled in another field. Oh, the world was full of wonders - so many beautiful bodies, so many cocks gushing so much cum - and Amy would try as many of them as she could.