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Cum Bucket Night

By: RobynG



You have to love fantasy. If you didn't, you probably wouldn't be here. Fantasy takes our minds places they might not go in every day life. Fantasy takes us out of the dull and mundane and transforms us into a brave new world. Fantasy gets the juices flowing, the mind exploring and acts like a space ship finding a new star system.

Many stories on Literotia have some truth to them, that's what makes them so exciting. How does Alicia get the guts to do some of the naughty things she does in public, how does Richard have such an effect on women? Whatever. It's fantasy, it's exciting, it's fun.

For me, the "Doin the Boss" series has been a work that's 80 percents real life and 20 percent fantasy. I attempt to draw from the world I live and bring it to my readers. Of course, an editor here and there changes things sometimes, and some add a little more flavor, but the majority of what I've written has been from real life exploits and escapades. 

Other stories, well, maybe it's 50-50 and some. Still others may only have a string of reality and a large potion of imagination. 

So why am I telling you this? 

Well, I thought you'd want to know about the following story. It's mostly fiction, at least from my writing it, but it does have a sliver of truth because bits and pieces of it were told to me by a very close friend. She relayed the story, probably second hand and assuredly embellished on her part, but who knows, it might have been her. So in an effort to fully disclose I just wanted to let you know that fantasy with a dose of reality is something that takes the mind wandering down a number of paths.

Here's one of them.

* * * *

It wasn't supposed to be this way. I was supposed to have had my college paid for, including a summer course in Poitiers, France, with side trips to Paris after my junior year was competed. 

No, this wasn't the way my junior year was supposed to start. 

And it wouldn't have been a problem if my dad, my stepdad really, hadn't taken off with his secretary and leaving my mom with a pre-nup that sucked. She got the use of our house until its sale, half of the proceeds, and little else. Mom was terrified at her future, and as for me, well, I had expenses.

I know that sounds so selfish, but after the news and hugs the reality set in. Dad wasn't paying for my schooling anymore, there was no France in my immediate future and things that were taken for granted were suddenly a problem. My beater car was going into the winter with nearly bald tires and a battery hanging on by the thinnest of margins. 

My sometimes roommate, Tiffany, was anything but helpful. Tiff was a sometimes roommate because she found herself "staying over" at various friends rooms and apartments as her libido warranted. She was always flush with cash, and since she wasn't from a rich family I always assumed it was because some of her "friends" were older, generous guys. The girl had ample physical resources to draw interest from any male who came in contact with her. 

I moped around for a couple weeks, finally getting a job in the library. Seven hours a week at minimum wage. What a disaster. 

School was going okay, but the financial aid lady was anything but helpful. Because the most recent tax returns said I was from a "wealthy" family, I wasn't eligible for much in the way of aid. Are they nuts? Maybe down the road that would change, but I was in the here and now. 

Classes were okay, and my on again, off again boyfriend was somewhat consoling, but I was terrified at having to take on massive college loans to finish my education. Oh, millions have done so, but a friend of mine has a brother who is a lawyer. The guy has been out of school six years, has a good job, and still owes six figures to the loan agency. That wasn't attractive to me.

Tiffany had disappeared Friday after class and I had the place to myself. Roger, my boyfriend, wanted to come over, but all he wanted was a quickie before heading over to the card game going on at a friend's house. The apartment would have provided us some privacy --- Tiffany loved to eavesdrop on Roger and I when we were doing "it" but with her out we have been able to frolic without a voyeur, but I just wasn't up to a bang and go on his part.

So I moped around more. Saturday came, and around 11 a.m. Tiffany arrived, looking as if she'd had a rough night.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but she became very revealing. Over coffee she explained how she'd gone out with a professor whose wife was away. The guy took her dancing a couple towns away to ensure privacy. Somewhere along the line she admitted that the prof was "generous" not only in his grades but with his wallet.

"You were whoring?" I asked without thinking.

Tiffany gave me a look, then said, no, he's just generous. He gives me money to by clothing. Like a loan, except I don't have to pay it back in money. It's like, well, barter. 

Deep down I always knew Tiffany was up to something. She had too many affluent friends, and many times after parties or visits with them she'd go on a spending spree the following week. Either that, or she had a huge trust fund or hit the lottery. Now I knew what jackpot(s) she hit.

"I don't think his wife gives him much, he's always so randy," said Tiffany, smiling. "At the club we were dancing forever. Then we rested, drinking and talking, and all of a sudden he asked me to rub his cock under the table. He had a hard on before you could say hello. I played with him for a little and he surprised me again. He wanted a blow job!"

I looked incredulously at her.

"You didn't."

"Well...not there. I excused myself to use the rest room and wondered whether we should make a beeline to the car for some quick head, but he had other ideas. When I came out of the bathroom he was there, waiting. He whisked me out the back door and into an alley. His trousers were already unzipped!"

OMG! Tiffany was a real tart!

"We moved down the alley a bit from the door and he pushed me to my haunches. Out popped Mr. Lucky, and, well, you know..."

I looked at the girl. "And, well, what happened?"

"I made the professor a happy guy, I'll tell you. I licked that dick of his and then began to suck it...went from licking the lolly to swallowing the sausage. It was so very naughty, right in the dirty alley. It was so hot, so erotic. I hardly had to do any work because he was all over me. I bet after about a minute his hands were cupping my head and I was getting a protein shake."

Tiffany sort of smiled at the thought of her actions.

"That wasn't the best of it."

"What," I questioned.

"Well, if you must know, he, well, you know, held me there for a bit, cleaning his whanger, he likes that. I just finished it off, cleaned it, swallowed his stuff, you know. He helped me too my feet when I heard them."

"Heard who?"

"I guess a couple guys had come out back to get a smoke --- they were smoking anyway outside the door. When I looked over they were politely clapping. Oh, it was humiliating. And even more so because we had to walk past them to get back into the place. One of them asked if I enjoyed my desert, while the other patted me on the bottom. It was very embarrassing!"

Tiffany said the exchange in the alley with the guys only made the professor hotter. They danced a little, but then went over to a local no-tell motel where he laid the wood to her from various angles. "He must have taken a blue pill, because he was hard as a rock and able to rumble for hours. I am sore from him. But what was really hot was his wife calling him on the cell phone. He said he had to take it, and for me to be quiet. 

"The two of them talked for a bit, and he motioned me over to suck on him while he was wishing her a good night's sleep."

I wanted to think she was telling a tale, but I know Tiffany was telling me the truth. She had been a bad, bad girl last night. Today she had a nice gift from the professor in her pocketbook.

She left me at the table, amazed, as she went off to the shower.

* * * * 

Over the next couple weeks I didn't hear anything about the professor or any other lover for that matter as Tiffany was immersed in a all encompassing biology lab project. The girl had brains, and when she put her mind to something, she could come out with an A with a little work. It was just that sometimes she didn't want to work.

But in biology, Mrs. Craig was a stern task master. Tiffany couldn't use her charms to flirt her way to a grade, or whatever. She had to do some old fashioned studying and hard work to get a grade. 

On my end, money was tighter each week. When the family was together, dad would send me little gifts every so often. For a birthday, I'd get a VISA card for a couple hundred bucks, while every so often a card to one of the music sites, bookstores or big box stores would come as a surprise. Since the breakup and the start of the arguing it would be merely a card. 

Obviously Dad was pissed at Mom, and I was now demoted into a bargaining chip or something. Whatever, the cash stopped flowing and I was on my own. It was quite a shock to my system. Items that I had taken a no brain approach to purchasing the past had now become a luxury. I went on the cheap when buying toiletries and fun purchases became a thing of the past.

I found myself going on dates with absolute duds merely to get a movie and dinner. Guys I never would have considered dating were on the dance card, and getting into a solo relationship was a definite no in that it would limit things. Oh, Roger and I got together once in a while, but we weren't a thing anymore. 

My lifestyle was totally crimped and it was disheartening to attempt to balance bills. 

When my loan application was rejected, something I never expected, I was totally distraught. Apparently my separated parents made way too much money, yet that application didn't take into consideration they were quarreling and none was coming my way. My student advisor offered up some high interest loans which I knew I'd have to take. But it still pissed me off that I was in this situation. 

Tiffany never seemed to have money problems, and she didn't come from a well to do family. She had student loans, yet she still had cash to buy new clothes without having to pinch pennies. I guess her, ahem, friends, helped her out. That was so wrong, but it was right for her I guess. 

I flat out asked her, finally, while I was in a state of despair, if she could clue me in on a professor or guy who might be generous with his cash. She laughed. "You aren't honing in my territory, sweetie..."

"But...I mean, I'm not a whore but I need some really help, you know."

"No."

"Please."

"Still no....but let me think about some options. Maybe there's a way."

We joked around a little, talked about this and that, but nothing more came of our little conversation.

At least, not for another two weeks. I began to hate school, adding to the list of things I was hating these days.

I will remember it forever like it was yesterday. Tiffany came home from class just after lunch, harried, and told me to sit down. She looked me over, shushed me and then asked if I could keep a secret, a deep, dark secret. Totally secret, no questions asked. 

Nodding yes, I wondered what was up.

"You want to make some money, well, there's an opening for someone with your special talents," said my roommate. "But it won't be easy money. You will have to work for it, a few jobs so to speak. Profitable jobs."

"What would I have to do?"

She looked me over and then popped the question. "How many guys have you gone down on?"

"You mean, given a blow job?" I asked, embarrassed at the question. 

Tiffany gave me a sly smile. "Yup...sucked off, blown, given head to...how many?"

I can't really say what emotion had overcome me. Here I was talking intimate talk with my roommate, something we had done before, but not like this. Tiffany would talk about her conquests. I once told her that I'd given Tom MacDonald a blow job in the stairwell outside the student union during the evening....and was nearly caught. 

We had a laugh about that. That led to our telling our most embarrassing stories, as I think I was biding time in answering her question. Finally I did. Swallowing hard, I looked at the floor then at Tiffany before quietly saying, "Seven."

We spoke about the places we'd given head. Bedrooms of course, cars too. But that stairwell was tame as opposed to Tiffany's giving Brad Dawson a sloppy blow job in a hotel window....and they knew they were being seen. So bad, Tiffany was and is...

"Do you like giving head?" wondered Tiffany, staring at me intently as I sat back in my chair. 

"Well, yea, but...well, you know, I like a romantic evening with candles and kissing and hugging and holding and, well, yes, sucking on a guy. I really like, you know, 69."

"You are bad, girl!" joked my roommate.

We spoke of things, dancing around the subject at hand. Money. I thought the worst, that she was going to hit be about whoring myself out for guys on a street corner or something. It was naughty, but nothing like that. 

Tiffany started to explain the scenario. Right off the bat she admitted it was wrong, terrible and disgusting. But it was also profitable. 

Listening, I knew it was bad, very bad. I have to admit I was appalled, but intrigued. It was wrong, bad, but a way to help with the finances. Once over the shock, I wanted to hear more. 

After she finished her tale, I thought for a minute. 'And they won't know who we are? There's absolutely no chance of that?"

"It's like you are a super hero, complete with a hidden identity. Only one guy will know you, and he only knows me, barely. When I was brought into this, like you, last year, we all promised secrecy. I've done this three times, made a lot of money, and nobody knows I am involved except the one guy, the girl who got me into this, and now you."

"Who is she?"

Tiffany said it was private, a girl who graduated over the summer, and was gone. The contact had called her, asked for a "Show" and Tiffany thought of me as a new cohort. 

So, you ask, what was the, uh, Show?

Disgusting. Despicable. Degrading. 

But of so very profitable. 

As Tiffany explained, it was a rich boy fraternity house at a college about 50 miles away. She and I would go there, spend several hours there in a competition, then leave...with money in our pockets. We wouldn't have sex, we'd, well, have a blow job competition. She and I. 

Winner gets $2,500, loser $1,000. No sharing of the pot. 

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. We'd go to the frat house, made up completely different that we'd normally look, wearing a wig, some falsies to give the illusion of bigger boobs and loose fitting clothing. We'd pick guys to suck off, in private, and whichever of us blew the most guys in a 69 minute competition would be declared the winner and get the $2,500. The loser got $1,000. It was as simple as that.

We were promised anonymity. She spoke about the three times she had done the deed, and nobody knew who she was. The guys at the frat house kept quiet, because each had several thousands of dollars at risk....apparently to be involved they had each posted a sort of bond to secure their silence. 

A bunch of the frat would get a blow job, all would get to compete whether they got blown or not, and if they spoke about it they'd lose a bunch of cash. 

I thought about it, thought about the money, and asked Tiffany when I would have to make a decision.

"Right away, there's a commitment and if you don't feel you can do it I have to try to find someone else or cancel."

I asked when we'd do it.

"Tonight?"

"WHAT!!!! Tonight? You have to be kidding."

"Yes, I had another girl but she's backing out. You are it, you are my competitor if you want the money."

I remembered that movie about the proposal that was indecent. I thought about what my mother would say. I thought about the money. I thought about my recent financial struggles. I thought about what my parents would think, how they were sending me directly to Hell.

I said yes.

For the next two hours we joked and prepped ourselves like we were going to a prom. I use I would have to make my nail polish I'd never use, I sliced off a lot of my eye brows. I selected a blonde wig from Tiffany's hidden collection. 

I asked her at least three times whether sex was really involved. She assured me I wouldn't be on some lay-away plan there. It was oral sex, for 69 minutes. Best cock sucker wins the big money, but the loser (she said that would be me) would still get some nice cash. 

"These guys are horny and rich, a perfect combination. There's no guarantee of a tip, but I haven't left the frat house without one," said Tiffany, who admitted to having participated in three of these extravaganzas. "I'm a two-time winner, and one-time loser."

My mind was going a mile a minute as we got into our outfits. Twice I thought about backing out, but the money was clearly an incentive. A couple hours work and I'd make more than I would in several weeks of working on campus. It would go a long way toward easing my financial mind. And Tiffany said there would be other opportunities if things went well.

A new identity, a deep breath, and we were on our way. Along the drive Tiffany gave me the particulars. 

There were usually about 20 guys at the frat house. Each knew he might or might not get a blow job, and each was sworn to secrecy. Apparently once a guy blabbed and was not only expelled from the frat but he also was given some attitude adjustment from a couple big guys you don't want to meet in a dark alley. 

He went to the administration but no matter how much coercion happened nobody collaborated his "crazy ass" story and the frat program survived. 

Tiffany related the rules of the night. Each of us would have a little card. We'd take the card and circulate through the downstairs seating area that was part living room, part bar. The guys would be there, probably watching sports on the two televisions or playing cards or something. We'd circulate through the room, each observing the frat guys with an eye out toward getting a competitive edge.

"Hey, some guys look really horny. Or maybe cute. Who cares?" said Tiffany, giving out more information that I would have expected, given we were in competition with each other. "In any event, we have five minutes to circulate, and then select our first, uh, date. We each will have a room upstairs, and we go up and do our thing. When the guy is done, remember, he has to cum from the blow job. No sex, no hand job. You have to blow him. When he's done we have the guy initial your form, give you a grade, and downstairs we go."

Once downstairs we'd look for a new date, selecting a guy who meets our requirements, whatever they were. The clock would start once the door closed with out first date. 

"But how will I know if I pick a guy who has been with you?"

Tiffany gave a sly smile. "You won't. And the guy can't tell you or give you any indication he's been with someone. That's part of the suspense and intrigue."

Ah, the competition. Select the wrong guy and it's going to be curtains on winning, as even horny frat guys will have trouble getting off twice quickly. I had to smile at the thought that went into this little escapade.

"Once the 69 minutes are over an air horn will sound. You are free to finish the guy or come back downstairs...your choice. We compare sheets and the winner wins and the loser, that's you, loses."

Simple as pie. 

We parked in a supermarket parking lot next to a Land Rover. A good looking guy got out and walked over to Tiffany's side of the car. "Welcome, ladies!" said the guy, who turned out to be the frat president and the only guy who knew how to contact Tiffany. He called her Sharon, and she introduced me as Courtney, and asked if we were ready for our competition.


Cum Bucket Night Ch. 02



I couldn't believe I was going through with this degrading competition at the frat house, but when you are desperate for money you tend to do desperate things. 

In part 1 of this story I outlined the money difficulties I was having, the problems with my parents, and my roommate Tiffany and her regular escapades with professors and others with a bank roll. 

I have to admit that final ride over to the frat house with Bradley was a little disconcerting. It was so friendly. I didn't feel like a whore, I felt like I was going to meet some of his friends. I thought of my parents --- kept thinking of what they'd think --- and then began having second thoughts. But Bradley kept talking and I felt more and more comfortable about the whole thing. Especially the money we'd be leaving with.

The frat prez was so very nice. He called us by our "stage" names....might not event know that I was not Courtney and Tiffany was not really Sharon.

We had locked our car, along with the envelope containing $250 each Bradley had given us. A down payment, so to speak, for our services that evening. Those services, as I understood it, was a blow job competition at Bradley's frat house. Each of us girls had 69 minutes --- cute huh? --- to fellate as many guys as we could.

One at a time we'd take them upstairs. Do our business with them. Have them initial our "dance" cards and give us a grade. Then we'd whisk our way downstairs to pick out a new partner for a repeat trek upstairs. Which ever girl felated the most guys to completion in the allotted time frame would be the winner of the $2,500. The loser, only $1,000 cash.

I was driving with the frat president as nice girl but would be returning that night as a whore. With a little luck I'd be back in the car in a couple hours, $2,500 richer but with a lot of cum in my belly. Hopefully I could survive without creating a scene of some sort.

Tiffany, er, Sharon looked at me an smiled. She told me it would be okay, nobody would know us and nobody would ever know who we were or what we did. "You do it with your boyfriends....think of these guys as boyfriends, horny boyfriends. 

Soon we parked behind a large Victorian house on a tree lined road on the outskirts of a local university. It looked like dozens of buildings I'd seen before, but knew it would not be like any I had been in. I took a deep breath, smiled at Sharon and walked with her and Bradley into the basement. 

"Do you want a drink before we head upstairs and start the festivities?" asked Brad.

We both nodded, me with a little more gusto. I needed a shot of courage to go on. 

After bottoms up we hugged each other then made our way upstairs. Bradley had us wait at the top of the stairs and made a booming announcement. "Gentlemen of Tappa Delta, I'd like to introduce you to a pair of hungry ladies who will be our guest tonight, Courtney and Sharon. Welcome, ladies! We are glad you are here."

All eyes were upon us as we made our way into the room. A round of applause followed, and I notice the guys were staring at us as I was staring at them. 

We worked the room, smiling, shaking hands, looking at our victims. The guys looked at us, hoping to be chosen. After several minutes, Brad announced it was time for the competition to begin. 

I saw Tiffany head toward a blond guy in the corner. I quickly selected the nerdiest, neediest guy in the room. 

"Hi, I'm Courtney," I said with a smile. "Want to go for a walk?"

The guy mumbled something, surprised he'd been chose, but quickly grabbed my hand and led me upstairs. I think he wanted to get up there and start things before I changed my mind. I think I picked the right guy!

His name was Stephen, he was a computer science major and he didn't have a girlfriend. In one short walk I learned all about him, because he couldn't stop talking. He was a nervous wreck. Stephen was in the frat because he knew computers inside out and the fraternity needed someone to run all the electronic gadgets in the house. He was an expert in that arena, and that got him to the inner circle. Now he was at the front of a horny line of guys.

I learned all of this on the steps up to the upstairs room. Somehow, my name was on the door along with a bright blue star. I surmised that tonight I was going to be a star. Money can be an incentive, but quite frankly all the buildup had rid my body of nerves and replaced with a sort of horniness I'd never felt before. 

Stephen closed the door and leaned back against it. His eyes were riveted on me as I sunk to my knees and immediately began on lower the zipper on his bulging jeans. Pulling out his cock, I looked up and thought his eyes would pop out when I licked the tip of his dick. 

"Oh, oh , oh," he cried as I slid my lips slowly down his manhood. I could swear I heard him groan and felt him squirm in front of me. Seconds later his cock pulsated then spat its creamy load into my unsuspecting mouth. His quick cum surprised me, as I'd only had him in my mouth for a minute, but the guy had no control.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," said the guy, eyes still wide open. I cooed how good he tasted as he zipped up. "The guys will make fun of me like they always do."

First I told him he was chosen, not any of them, so he was special. Then I told him to say I was just so hot that he couldn't take it. I nodded, said it wasn't a problem, that it helped me and that I hope he enjoyed our short time together. With that he zipped up, I wiped my mouth on the back of my arm as we strode downstairs. One down!

The assembled group downstairs was somewhat taken about by our quick reappearance and I quickly chose another hopefully conquest. His name was John, he said, and was a math major. Dark hair, devilish blue eyes and a bulge in his trousers was all I needed to know about him, especially the bulge. 

John was a little more practiced than Stephen. He took a firm hold of my ass on the parade upstairs, massaging it as we found our way to my room. This time there was no quick movements by the guy. He started to kiss me, thought better of it (I wondered if he could smell Stephen's cum) and gave me a big hug instead. 

He mentioned that I was very pretty. I thanked him for the compliment and began to get down to business. Time was of the essence, like it or not. 

I didn't know it at the time, but the guys had their own side bets going. The guys chosen among the first five by each girl had to be back downstairs in less than 50 minutes, ensuring they didn't take forever to get their rocks off. If they took a more than 50 minutes between them, they each had to throw in a hundred bucks into the frat kitty. So, dally in the bedroom, enjoying one's self, could be costly for the slow pokes. Of course, I had no knowledge of their little bet, so I just figured they were horny guys who wanted to get off and totally enjoy themselves. 

The guy unhooked his pants, lowering them to the floor before sitting in a seat by the room's only window. I did the honors with his boxers, first kissing the fabric covering his cock before sliding the cute undies down his legs. As I lowered my head he told me to kiss his cock. 

"Yea, that's it, kiss the cock, sweetie, kiss it," said the guy. "Now lick it from top to bottom. Uh huh, like that."

They guy gave me directions which were easy to follow. 

"Clean the cock, baby, suck it," said number two as I lowered my head and sucked more dick into my mouth. "You suck like a pro, oh, yea. The girls here aren't as practiced as at your college."

I hoped he didn't know which college I was enrolled! 

Working his dick like I had many times in front of the dorm with guys after dates, I played with his balls. He had a nice dick, nice and long, maybe seven inches of throbbing man meat. He kept telling me to suck but didn't give a second of notice that he was cumming. All of a sudden his dick exploded in my willing mouth, and the unexpected volley of cum caused me to gag more than a little. 

I had to spit out some of his cum, coughing a bit as some had slithered down my throat, as he chuckled at my dilemma. Then he wiped his cock on my face. "Thanks for the blow job, honey. Do yourself a favor, wear it downstairs. It will be great advertising."

Embarrassed and humiliated, I thought of cleaning myself up before thinking again about the clock. Instead of a trip to the bathroom I merely wiped the residue of his activities on my sleeve and smiled at him. "You are such a bad boy!"

He smiled, said something about me being a bad girl, and we left the room. I have to admit I felt so wanton, so naughty, striding downstairs with him...his hand groping my ass the whole way. Looking back, I believe it was like I was a woman possessed, under the spell of hypnosis or something, because it was so wrong what I was doing yet I had this feeling deep inside of me of excitement and challenge.

Nary had an eye looked at us as we got back to the room. Oh, I knew they were sneaking glances but nobody overtly stared or anything. Those were the rules. I was the belle of the ball (along with Tiffany, of course), and I got to pick my, err, dance partners, willingly and without any coercion. 

Two down, who knows how many to go.

Numbers three and four were uneventful, both quick blow jobs that had me thinking of what a slut I was. Both had me take their pants off with me kneeling in front of them, both cradled my head in their hands guiding me up and down their cocks. Both were satisfied in less than seven minutes. Quick, easy and efficient blow jobs.

The fifth guy, though, was a handful. He had a dark, mysterious look about him. A player, a guy who had been around the block a few times. I surmised he'd be with the program and an easy conquest. 

His name was Barry, a pre-law guy that was from New York City. Once inside the room he told me to lift my top and show me my tits. So much for dignity and respect.

"Ok, we can do this my way --- and I will be out of here fast --- or you can try your way which I know will take a lot longer," said Barry, taking control of the situation.

Before I could murmur a "huh" he continued.

"I don't like blow jobs, just don't. And I know you are here to blow me. That's your problem," said the jerk of a guy. "So here's the deal..."

I was befuddled by his request, disgusted actually, but began to weigh my options. If I wanted to get Barry downstairs fast I had to follow his wishes, no matter how disgusting they were. 

Here's what happened: Barry wanted his ass licked. If I did that, he'd jerk off on my face and cum in my mouth. 

What's a girl to do? I mean, I was willingly going to suck his dick. But he said that he'd take forever to cum. Doing it his way meant we'd be marching back downstairs quickly, and in this competition, quick was the order of the day. So I agreed.

"You aren't only pretty, but smart too," said the gruff guy. "Get on your knees and play with your tits."

I took my familiar plunge, kneeling in the center of the floor. My hands caressed my breasts as my eyes watched him drop his pants and dark blue briefs to the floor. He stroked his cock in front of my face for a bit before turning around and bending over, using a nearby chair to hold on to.

There, in front of me, was his ass. Moving closer, I tentatively began to lick the cheeks before slithering my tongue slowly down the crack. This was virgin territory for me, and I wasn't really sure how to proceed, but played things my ear.

"That's it, lick my ass," said the guy.

I did, licking up and down the crack while I held on to his waist. It didn't taste all that bad, it was just different. 

"Hold my balls carefully, and then stick your tongue into my hole," ordered the guy as I slowly complied. "Yes, yes, that's it, stick it all the way in."

I played with his balls with one hand while my tongue wormed in and out of his asshole. My nose was hard pressed against his ass crack so I could get my tongue deep. My other hand danced in the area between the balls and his asshole, something he liked.

"That's it, that is, lick my ass," said Barry from above, while his midsection began moving in a fucking motion. I think he was jerking off, but couldn't tell for sure. He rock and talked and moaned as I licked away at ass for the first time in my life. 

All of a sudden he moved forward then spun around, and before I knew it his cock was spurting several volleys of hot cum onto my face as he jerked his cock off at me. The first shot hit right between my eyes, the second on a cheek an then he put his cock in my mouth so I could suck off the rest. He fucked my face for about a minute, calling me several names. When drained he pulled out and smacked my face with his dick.

"Now that was a blow job," complimented Barry, "you are incredible."

He got his pants on but asked me to lick his dick by the door to the room one last time so he could remember me. I did, right before we walked back down to the main room while all the while wondering if the guys would know what I had done. Not only was I a dick licker but a true ass kisser. 

Tiffany was leaving with a guy as I walked into the room. She gave me a sly smile and winked, making me feel good. We were in the home stretch.

I had notice a cute, well dressed guy earlier who again caught my eyes and I selected him as my next conquest. Turns out his name was Jeremy, and he was all over me on the way upstairs. Little did I know the mistake I had made with this selection. 

Oh, he was hot and horny, but he'd been with Tiffany just minutes before.

When we got inside the room he said he was sorry, but that this would be sloppy seconds for me, so to speak. "Your friend is quite sexy," said the guy. "She, uh, is talented as well."

We both knew what that meant. I'd be working overtime to get him over the top.

Jeremy was a history major. He liked looking up girls' skirts, which was unfortunate since I was wearing jeans. "Why don't you pull down those pants and play with your self while I get myself ready," said the experienced guy. "I want you to do well in the competition."

At this point I realized how dastardly this could have been as a true competition. I mean, he could have been coerced by Tiffany to take forever. But with a degree of fairness, it appeared he'd do what he could to help my cause. 

As if reading my mind, he chuckled. "Hey, I win either way tonight! I get two beautiful women to suck me off, how can that be bad. She was great, yes, but I am looking forward to cumming in that beautiful mouth of yours. I just need a lot of help, because, really, she drained me."

Up for the challenge, I dropped my drawers and began to play with my red panties in front of the wide-eyed guy. Soon the panties started down my thighs, but he insisted I keep them there while I played with my hot, wet and horny pussy. "It's a great look. It's like I've caught you in your room masturbating. This is so hot. Keep them on your thighs."

As he talked the guy lowered his trousers and the boxers. His cock was thin and long, at a little better than half mast as he began to slowly stroke it while his eyes were glued to my activities.

I enjoy masturbation. Oh, I'd rather have a guy making love to me, but in a pinch my fingers are exciting when they do the walking around my pussy. I do it a couple times a week, when the need hits me, but never with an audience. And here Jeremy's eyes were glued to my pussy.

I closed my eyes and imagined myself in my bed. Late at night. Horny. I parted the lips and worked by clit, slowly, then with a little more ginger. 

"I love the way you trim your pussy, it's so hot," said Jeremy of my heart shaped mound above my womanhood. "Your fingers are so wet."

Smiling, I kept working my pussy, getting hotter by the minute. Apparently Jeremy was too. "Oh, this is so hot," said they guy.

I looked over at him and he was standing, stroking his cock quickly and firmly.

"Get over here," he ordered, and I did, slipping toward him then down on my knees. I watched as he jerked his cock. He was making these little noises, and I looked up at him and gazed into his eyes. He smiled then went back to work on his dick as I opened my mouth and licked my lips in anticipation. 

"Oh I'm going to cum," grunted the guy, inserting his cock into my mouth and jerking it. I sucked as hard as I could on the tip ---- his hand was feverously working the stem ---- and closed my eyes. Soon I was rewarded with several small shots of man stuff which I swallowed quickly hoping not to repeat the choking display of earlier in the night.

Jeremy held the back of my head with one hand while he jerked his final volleys into my waiting mouth. I must have looked so naughty, my panties still around my thighs while kneeling in front of a guy. Oh, it was hot.

The guy almost fell back when he let go of my head, and we both laughed at that little dance step. He sat down, drained.

"That was incredible, you are so very sexy, so very hot. That was a great blow job." 

Smiling at him, I apologized for him having to do so much of the work. "The pleasure is all mine, girl, that was awesome."

We pulled up our undies and pants and made small talk. "I know you have to hurry, but just wanted you to really know how much I appreciated your work," said Jeremy, getting cuter by the minute. We walked downstairs like lovers.

But we, of course, weren't. I was merely the new whore on campus or something. So much for being an "entertainer," I was sucking for money, I know. But it was so very hot in the situation. I kept telling myself I was the queen, the belle of the ball with the pick of the litter.

I gave Jeremy a kiss on the cheek before turning and picking the closest guy to us as we entered the room. Time was of the essence, and guy would do at this point of the night. 

It was a good pick, an appreciative junior named Zach who was thrilled at being selected. We hurried upstairs as the clock ticked away. I had lost track of time with Jeremy because of his "problem" and realized we were down to the final minutes. I had to get Zach off.

That became clear when an announcement was made in the outside hallway that there were only two minutes left before the final buzzer. It was now or never for young Zach. 

"You ever had a blow job, Zach?" I asked. 

He slowly replied "yes."

"But not like this one. Drop your pants, fast."

Time was short, it was time for something special. I thought of a former lover, and something he liked. There was a table in the room, and I sat on it and lay down on my back, my head over the end.

"Fuck my face, Zach, hurry!"

He couldn't have been happier. He stroked his dick a couple times then aimed at my open mouth. 

Opening wide, I stuck out my tongue. The boy laid his cock on my tongue then slowly slipped it in my tired mouth as I sucked hard on the log. He got the beat quickly and began fucking my face like there was no tomorrow. 

In and out he went, rocking his body toward my mouth and back, quicker and quicker. 

"I can't believe how good this feels, you are suck a cocksucker," groaned the guy. "You are amazing...I'm gonna cum."

Oh yea!

He took no care in fucking my mouth, and I barely held on as he attacked my wet mouth. One, two and three volleys of copious cum sauce shot into my mouth, followed a second later my several more less full shots. Cum was everywhere as I couldn't swallow because of his rough rocking but I couldn't hold it in my mouth. So cum was coming out and sliding down into my head and hair. 

Just then the siren went off and the door opened. A looked up and he smiled. "Looks like that blow job counts, Courtney, I see the cum in your mouth and on your face. Let's go, you two lovebirds, we have to get downstairs for the final tally. Don't worry about cleaning off, it's a good look."




Cum Bucket Night Ch. 02



I wiped my forehead then got my bra and shirt presentable as Zach pulled up his pants. He proudly led me downstairs to the awaiting room of guys. Looking around, it dawned on me. I had sucked off a bunch of them and, looking around, couldn't remember all of them. What a slut!

Bradley stood on a chair and made the announcement. "Ladies, you were outstanding. You received great comments and scores, and we all appreciate your efforts! Tonight's champion, by a 7 to 6 score, is Courtney! Let's hear it for her!"

There was a lot of cheering and Tiffany gave me a hug. "You bitch," she joked. "I couldn't get that last guy to cum. You had drained him." I wondered who was the guy I had drained, but then I started thinking about the $2,500 and how good it would feel in my bank account.

It was quiet weird being in a roomful of guys, many of which I'd blown that night. But it was also very hot and exciting. I was so happy we weren't treated like whores, but almost like visitors. Quite frankly, looking around, there were several guys I'd love to go out with. And heck, they might even get a blow job. So getting paid was a nice bonus.

Bradley came up and led me by the hand toward a hallway. 

"So, Courtney, was that okay for you? Nobody was too demanding or anything?" I told him it was quiet exciting and everything was cool.

"Uh, so, do you want to make another $500 bucks?"

What did he mean? More blow jobs?

I must have had a strange look on my face.

"No, no, no more blow jobs," he said as if reading my mind. "I guess Tiffany didn't tell you. We offer the winner the opportunity to make another $1000 for 15 minutes of work, and you don't have to have sex with anyone."

"What do you mean?"

Bradley told of how half of the guys in the room hadn't had the opportunity to cum that night, and that we'd satisfied a bunch of guys and the others were quite randy. So in the past they came up with a little way to get them off while getting some cash for the girls. 

"It's simple, the two of you go into a room and, well take your tops off and kneel down. The guys come in and, well, whack off and cum on you. You don't have to do anything but take it, and you won't have to swallow any or do anything to help them. You just have to kneel there while they jerk off."

"You've got to be kidding!"

"No, I'm not. I have $1,000, and Tiffany has already agreed. She actually likes doing it. She gets the full amount, but as champion, you can do it all by yourself and get the thousand. Or, the two of you can do it together and split it down the middle. Your call."

Well, Tiffany had already agreed, and I could use the money, so I agreed to 15 more minutes of degradation for a nice hunk of cash. And I didn't have to suck anything. Good deal.

Bradley was thrilled and he called Tiffany into the room. "Hey, the guys are really going to love this. You two are beautiful. Ready to go?

The prez led us into a back room near the steps we had come up from earlier. It had a big set of sheets on the floor with a couple of pillows. There was also a, well, horseshoe-shaped plastic thing with little flowers drawn on it and the word Champion written around the top. "Oh, forgot to tell you, you have to wear this," said the guy, laughing. "You are the champion, you know." 

Hey, why not, it was quite cute.

All set, Bradley called the guys into the room. They knew the drill, because they all came in without their pants and with hard cocks jutting out. 

Ready, set, go.

Tiffany and I watched as the guys started jerking their cocks. There was no lovemaking going on, merely jerking off. It wasn't long before one moved over and let go a series of shots of cum over Tiffany's face, followed shortly by another guy doing the same to me. 

At first I was watching the guys, but soon realized that was fruitless as one never knew where the next "shooter" would be coming from. Some were in front of my, others behind me, just a wall of guys with hot, horny cocks. I did notice Stephen, my first conquest, staring at me and working his dick. 

He moved over toward me, but not before a big lineman of a guy let loose a volley of man sauce all over my face. Stephen jerked his dick off and added his load to the others right before Bradley called an end to the festivities after ensuring all the guys had shot their wads.

With that the guys started exiting the room as Bradley came over and snapped a couple shots of me with a face full of cum. "It's for our Wall of Champions," said the guy. Tiffany added that I had a way to go to catch her, and pointed to the corner where it seems a couple shots of her covered face graced the wall.

Bradley led us to the basement and pointed to a door. "There's a shower in their, Courtney, you can get freshened up first, being the winner." 

Never had a shower sound so good to me, and I made a beeline for it. Turning on the water, I soaked in the warm water for a while, scrubbing the cum and scum from my body. The wig was shot, and I had to figure out whether to wear it out of the bathroom or just go natural. Brushing my teeth (thank goodness we brought little bags of clothing and brushes with us) I figured natural would work. 

In any event, I made quick order of the body rework as I knew Tiffany must have been tapping her foot waiting. Little did I know.

I opened the door and there she was, but she was busy blowing Bradley, finishing him off as I entered. He smiled at me as my eyes widened. "Ah, the loser has to do the president," said the guy. "It's a nice incentive to win."

With that, Tiffany rose to her feet and wiped her lips. "Hey girl, hope you left me with some hot water."

Later the ride back to our cars was uneventful. With payment and tips I had more than $4,000 in my pocket. Quite the night's work.

Tiffany and I spoke of the night on the ride home. She was chauffer, because I had won. She explained the last guy was one I had blown earlier in the evening, and there was nothing she could do to get him to cum. 

"I sucked him off like no tomorrow, I played with his ass. I licked his balls. Nothing could get him off."

Ah, the luck of the Irish!



Cum Bucket Night



Turns out this meeting spot kept us away from the frat house, so as our vehicle couldn't be identified. Bradley, the frat guy, stressed our anonymity. I looked at him, wondering if Tiffany or I would be blowing him that night, but he smiled as if he knew the question. He handed each of us an envelope and told us to put it in our car, letting us know that there was $250 inside as a down payment credited against our "winnings".

"There's 24 guys at the house tonight, not including me," explained Bradley. "Of course, I'm not in the lucky group of guys. They've been tested within the last two weeks, they are clean.."

Bradley looked us up and down, giving me a smile. "It's a shame I won't partake in the competition. But rules are rules. So, uh, Courtney, are you aware of the rules?"

I almost didn't answer, as my new name didn't ring a bell. Then I realized he was speaking with me. "Uh huh."

The guy said that if anyone got rough, suggested sex or anything but oral we were to immediately leave the room. "The competition is expected to be fair, and we want you ladies to be comfortable under the circumstances. Plus, it can be fun, right, uh, Sharon?"

My roommate nodded yes.

This was going to be a night of all nights.