Loading...I took the outlet pass from Darrel just before midcourt on the right side. Johnson slid over to try to make me give the ball up, but I crossed him over and cut back towards the center of the court. I spotted Malcolm running the wing on the other side of the court, then drew the defense away from him by turning my gaze back to the right side of the court at D.J who was getting ready to spot up at the three-point line.
Just a step outside of the three-point line, I made the pass on the run, putting the ball just to the left of the rim as Malcolm flew in and slammed the ball home to seal the game. 50-37, or something like that. Not bad for a team with a girl running the point.
Of course it helps when you’ve got a guy like Malcolm on your team, an All-American power forward and a guy who’ll likely be picked very early in the NBA Draft at the end of the season. You see, we all go to school at a big state university in a fun and sunny climate, and we’ve all got full rides to play basketball here. Malcolm is a sophomore who surprised everybody with a huge freshman season last year; Darrel’s a senior center with an NBA future of his own; and D.J is a little guy who can shoot the lights out and jump out of the gym in surprising bursts. And me? I’m a little 5’7″ freshman point guard who is taking over for a girl who led our team to two straight Final Fours in her time on campus. That puts a lot of pressure on me. And so far, just five games into the season – all wins, albeit against lesser competition – I’ve sort of struggled to get comfortable on the court. Not hitting shots, making dumb mistakes and just feeling a little out of place.
And so, tonight, on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I happened to be getting up some shots in the gym with one of my teammates when six of the guys from the men’s team (also nationally ranked) showed up to get in a little run before dinner, and they invited me and my teammate to join in – on opposite teams – so we could run full-court four-on-four. And, just out there playing ball and having fun with no pressure on me, I had fun playing basketball for the first time in a long time. As Malcolm threw in the game-sealing dunk and turned right around to point at me in appreciation and then run to me to give me a high-five, I knew I had, at the very least, impressed these guys with my ability to ball.
“Damn, Jordan. You just a freshman, yeah?” said Malcolm as we walked off the court to get some water.
“Yup.”
“Well, you got a hell of a future, girl. Damn, you basically played Johnson straight up,” he yelled out, loud enough to make sure that Johnson – the men’s backup point guard – heard.
“Thanks. Yeah, you’re not too bad yourself,” I joked, in severe understatement. He had probably scored half of our team’s total points.
We sat down in the front row of the bleachers and gulped from our water bottles as D.J. and Darrel came over to join us.
“So, you stuck on campus for the holiday too?” Malcolm asked.
“Yeah, we got a game on Friday afternoon and my parents live in Washington and can’t come down, so I’m just chilling here. It sorta sucks, but Coach is having us over to his house for dinner tomorrow though.”
“Yeah, I remember being real homesick last year at Thanksgiving.”
“What fool?” laughed D.J. “Man, we were in Maui last Thanksgiving,” he said, referring to the team’s trip to the island for a tournament. “How the hell you be homesick in Maui?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Damn, can you imagine feeling sorry for yourself while you in Maui?” he laughed.
“Yo, that was a dope ass trip though,” said Darrel.
“Heellll yeah,” chimed in D.J.
“So, what you up to tonight?” Malcolm asked me.
“Oh. I don’t know,” I replied, honestly. I hadn’t even thought that far ahead. “I got no plans.”
“You wanna hang out with us? We got a hook up at Pizza Pirate and then we gonna chill back at the pad. If you got nothing to do, you should come along.”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I sputtered out. Damn, this was turning into a fun day. Everybody knew these guys, true big men on campus, and not only was Mr. All-American praising my basketball game, he was asking me to hang out with them tonight. Hell yeah I was in. “But, like, I need to shower and stuff and I don’t really have anything to wear with me.”
“Aw, no worries. If I can shower at your pad, I’ll wait for you and give you a ride. We can meet D.J. and Darrel over there, right?”
With agreements all around, Malcolm and I headed out the side door of the gym and into the parking lot where he ushered me into a no-frills standard-issue Japanese sedan of some sort – definitely not the high-end luxury vehicle you hear rumors of star college athletes driving. Malcolm somehow folded his giant 6’10” frame into the driver’s side behind the steering wheel and I guided him across a dark and mostly empty campus to my thoroughly dark and empty dorm room. All my roommates were gone for the weekend, and I’d guess there were only a handful of students at all in my three-story dorm. Once inside, I offered him the opportunity to use the shower first, and he jumped at it, clearly doing a nice, quick, military-style just-the-basics shower and he was out in five minutes, with only a towel barely fitting around his waist hiding himself from me. And, damn, let me tell you, the chest on that man? Rock hard, cut like a Greek statue, just perfect; I could have jumped his bones right there.
Instead, I meekly got out “Okay, I’ll try to hurry,” then jumped in the shower and did my business too. When I got out, I wrapped my considerably smaller body in a towel and headed to my room to change, noticing Malcolm sitting patiently on the couch, playing with his cell phone.
“So, hey Malcolm, like, what kind of clothes should I wear?” I asked, off-hand. I didn’t know if we would be going to a club or if we were just going to be hanging out at his pad or what.
“Aw, you know, whatever,” he answered, unhelpfully.
“No really, should I wear like a dress or just jeans or…?”
“Well, you know what, I’ll help you pick something out,” he said, getting up and walking over to me, then walking right past me and into my room. I just sort of stood there staring at him. “Well, you coming in or what?”
He sat down on the bottom bed of the bunk beds in my room – my bed was the top bunk – and stared at me as I walked in. I wasn’t quite sure what he wanted me to do, so I walked to my closet and pulled out my version of my “little black dress” and held it up to my body. He looked at me and smiled, “Yeah, that’s nice, but we ain’t going to a wedding or nothing. What else you got?”
So, something a little more casual, I figured. I found a red flowered sun dress and pulled it out, but then decided that was more of a summer dress, and was about to put it back when Malcolm stopped me. “Yo, that looks good. Let’s see it.” I turned around and held it up in front of me and smiled. “Yeah, that might work. Let’s see it on you.”
“Um, okay. I’ll be right back,” and started to head to the bathroom to change.
“Nah, you ain’t gotta leave to put that on. Just put it on right quick.”
I looked at him with amazement and felt a rush of blood to my face. But he just stared back and then tilted his head in such a manner as to say, “Well, I’m waiting.” So, with as much confidence as I could muster, I dropped my towel, starting right into his eyes as I did it. His eyes looked up and down my body with approval. “Yo, girl. You fine,” he said, getting right to the point. I blushed even harder.
Getting on with things, I lifted the dress up over my head, exposing my body even more, and as I did I thought to myself “Yeah, you know, he’s right. I do have a good body. I work damn hard on keeping in killer shape and it feels good to have somebody with an equally good body compliment me.” So, by the time I finished wiggling into my dress, I looked back at him with total confidence. “Well, what do you think?”
“Yeah, you look damn good and all, but I’m thinking now that maybe I should have had you put on some jeans first.” I saw through the ploy. He just wanted me out of my clothes again. And, I didn’t argue. Up and back over my head the dress went until I was naked again, then I turned my back to him and carefully hung the dress back on its hanger and put it back in its place.
Now, I don’t wear jeans all that often, but I knew I had the perfect pair, a nice, tight designer pair that I had bought over the summer. And, of course, those were in the very bottom drawer of my dresser, so I bent over, giving Malcolm what had to be a terrific view of my rock-hard ass to fish those out of the bottom drawer. Finding them, I stood back up and, without even turning around, began to step into one leg, then the other, before wiggling them up my body: a grueling task, I might add. Eventually, those skin-tight jeans were on (even though the lack of panties was not going to endear me to this wardrobe choice) and I know I looked good in them, so I turned around to face Malcolm again.
“Mmmmm, mmmmmm, mmmmmmm,” was his response, giving my tits another long stare before looking up at my face again. “Yeah, honey, believe me you look great in those jeans. But, you know, you’ll probably want something a little bit more comfortable, right?” There was a little bit of a twinkle in his eye. “You got anything else in the dress department you want to try?”
I turned back around and shuffled through my admittedly meager wardrobe selection and found another sort of loose, lacy black dress and showed it to him. “Oh yeah, let’s see that one.” So, once again, I undressed. Staring him in the face as his eyes wandered up and down my body, I unbuttoned my jeans and began pushing them down, then stepped out of them one by one and, again bending over in front of him, conscientiously folded them back up and put them in the drawer, then stood up again and again pulled this little dress over my head. The short sleeves were all lacy, the fabric felt silky and the very bottom of the dress was lace as well, about midway up my thigh. Once it was on, I did a little faux-curtsy and presented myself to him.
“You know Jordan, I could just sit here and watch you change all night. But damn, you look great in that and I’m hungry, so let’s go.”
I considered the fact that in this dress, I could probably get away without wearing a bra, but there was no way in hell I was going anywhere without panties on, so I opened my top drawer, found a pretty little pair of delicate pink panties, and stepped into them and pulled them up quickly. “Okay, honey, you ready?” he asked.
“Yeah, just let me brush my hair and put on some makeup and I’ll be good.”
“Aw girl, you ain’t need no makeup. You got that natural beauty. Just run a brush through your hair and you good.”
I stepped into the bathroom, looked in the mirror and decided that Malcolm’s compliment was on the money; I didn’t need makeup. I fixed my hair up right quick and out the door we went.
Ten minutes later we were walking in the door of Pizza Pirate together. Pizza Pirate was an establishment in this college town. People went there before games, after games, when games were on, on weekend nights, on weekends days, hell, even on weekdays for lunch. It was a rare occasion when Pizza Pirate was not filled to the brim with college students, employees and just the local populace, and 8pm on the night before Thanksgiving appeared to be no exception, to my surprise. And, as Malcolm and I walked in the door, it seemed to me like every eye in the place was on us as we walked over to the booth in the window where Darrel and D.J. already were. Sure, 95% of those eyes were focused on Malcolm, but I couldn’t help but think that there were a few people wondering who the hell I was.
As we got to the booth, Darrel greeted me with a “Damn, girl! You sure clean up something nice!” that flattered me and put me immediately at ease around them. Malcolm let me slide into the booth first and he took the seat on the edge. Over the course of the hour or so we spent there, at least a dozen times somebody came up to our table and wanted to say hi to the guys from the team and maybe ask them for an autograph. And those dudes were so freaking polite and generous with their time. For every single person, they smiled and shook their hands and just were so professional, even if you could tell they were a little embarrassed.
And, what’s more, every single time somebody came up, one of the guys went out of their way to introduce me. “Oh, this here is Jordan Armstrong. She’s the little baller that’s gonna lead our women’s team back to the Final Four again.” Or something like that. And not once did I get the sense that it was done with any hint of mocking. I felt like I had truly won the respect of these guys as a capable basketball player. I’ll admit, my first couple of months on campus had been a little rocky – I sometimes have trouble making friends – but in these three hours or so since I met these guys and played basketball with them, I suddenly felt completely at home. And, it didn’t hurt that every now and then, Malcolm would reach over and gently touch my bare thigh with his enormous hand, whether to comfort me or to feel me up, I wasn’t quite sure yet.
Finally, after completely pigging out on pizza – I swear I had five pieces – we decided we were done and we all just got up and left. We weren’t given a check and there was no expectation from anybody that we would pay; we just bounced. I’m sure the owners of the place were plenty happy just to have some local celebrities stop in and continue to give the place street cred.
From there, we headed back to Malcolm and Darrel’s apartment just a couple of minutes away; D.J. lived somewhere else, but apparently was a regular visitor. As we got out of the car and were heading into the apartment complex, Malcolm ran into a couple of girls who he was apparently familiar with.
“Hey, what up, Malcolm?” called out one, a buxom bleach blonde who was obviously intoxicated. Her friend, an equally voluptuous brunette just sort of rolled her eyes at us from behind her friend.
Malcolm chatted easily with the girls as we walked in from the parking lot, before turning aside to me and sort of whispering: “These are my neighbors.”
The neighbors walked with us to the door of the apartment which was already unlocked, as apparently Darrel and D.J has beaten us here. And, as we walked in, they followed us in, seemingly quite comfortable. To be honest, the fact that the girls were there and so comfortable made me a bit more comfortable. Well, for a bit at least.
Because the blonde – Karen – was in rare form, taking on the role of the “Woo!” girl; you know, the drunk girl that wants to party and yells out “Woo!” at random intervals. She was immediately annoying as hell. And, maybe I didn’t hide it all that well because, after sitting quietly on the couch for awhile while everyone else chatted, she pointed towards me and asked, to nobody in particular: “So, who’s this slut?”
Malcolm immediately responded. “Awwww, hell no. You best not be talking shit to my girl.”
Karen didn’t know when to stop. “What? All I’m saying is she looks like a little whore.”
That hurt my feelings something bad, but all three of the guys were on my side immediately. “Morgan,” Darrel said pointedly to the brunette, “you best get Karen on out of here and maybe shut her down for the night because she is out of line.” Morgan looked at me, mouthed the word “Sorry” and gave me the sweetest look before clinging on to Karen’s arm and trying to pull her away. I felt bad for Morgan.
But, Karen did not go quietly, saying to Malcolm “Oh, come on, I’m just joking. Hey, to make it up to you, I’ll blow you real quick.” There didn’t seem to be even a hint of a joke in her expression.
But Malcolm just said, “Good night, girl” and Morgan and Darrel were able to quickly get Karen out the front door and into the girl’s apartment next door. I’m guessing she would wake up on Thanksgiving morning not all that thankful for her action on Thanksgiving eve.
“Wow, quite a display!” was my witty comment as the door shut and Karen was gone.
“Aw, don’t worry about her, honey. She’s dumb,” Malcolm calmed me.
“Do you always got girls offering to ‘blow you real quick’?” I joked, to lighten the mood.
“Well, you’d be surprised,” he responded.
Darrel ducked back in the front door and immediately found me and said: “I’m sorry. And Morgan said she’s sorry. And I bet that dumb bitch will be sorry if she remembers that shit tomorrow.”
“Aw, no worries. Thanks.”
“So, enough of that bullshit. Let’s chill,” said D.J. “Hey Morgan, you smoke?” he asked, pulling out a two-foot bong from behind the side of the couch, opening a drawer in the table next to the couch and coming back with the biggest bag of green buds you’d ever want to see.
“Wow. Hell, yeah,” I said. Little-known fact: marijuana is usually the drug of choice for most basketball players. We’re fit, so our lungs can handle the smoke. It is a great pain killer for the wear and tear on ankle and knees and the like. And, unlike alcohol, it is zero-calorie, so we don’t fuck up our training too much by puffing. Plus, it allows you to keep some semblance of your senses, unlike the poor girl who just got dragged off to bed kicking and screaming.
So, we smoked. And then we threw on some music, starting with Kanye and weaving through a great playlist on one of the guy’s iPhones. And we smoked some more. And we turned down the lights real low. And we smoked some more. And we settled back on the couch.
And, the next thing you know, Darrel and D.J. have disappeared to god knows where and Malcolm and I are alone on the couch and he’s got his giant hand on my bare thigh and it feels so good and I lean into him and he leans into me and our mouths meet and our lips squish against each other and our lips part and our tongues meet and our eyes close and his hand moves further up my thigh, under my skirt, and his hand reaches my panties and pets me slowly and softly. I gasp in ecstasy as his hand pulls aside my panties and his hand is on my pussy and his middle finger is wiggling my lips apart, trying to earn passage deeper into me until suddenly it does, sliding deep and firm into my suddenly moist pussy.
I’m enjoying the moment in silence, eyes closed, taking in every move when Malcolm’s left hand reaches up to my face and gently pushes my face to the right. I open my eyes to see what he’s doing and I’m greeted by the sight of a huge semi-erect cock staring me right in my face. My immediate response – probably not the one that anybody was looking for – was to burst out laughing.
“What?” asked Darrel, the owner of that huge cock.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh, I just wasn’t expecting that, you know,” I said.
“What, you don’t like it?” he asked.
“No, it’s just…” I stumbled. I wasn’t like scared or anything, but I was just struggling to find the right words to express myself. “It’s just… You know…” I looked to my left and saw D.J. standing there now as well. “Well, you know, I can’t fuck all of you,” I blurted out.
“Why not?” asked D.J. with a grin.
Darrel chimed in. “Aw, sweetie, it’s okay. You don’t have to fuck all of us. I’d be more than happy with just a blowjob.”
I laughed again. “Oh, ‘just’ a blowjob.”
Darrel smiled and Malcolm chimed in: “You know you don’t have to do nothing you don’t wanna do.”
And, under normal circumstances, that would have been the end of it, one way or another. But, I was feeling so good about myself. And these guys had been so nice to me all day and made me feel at home for the first time in a long time. And, frankly, they were all fucking hot. And, throw in the fact that I was really high and I began to do some mental gymnastics in my head.
After what seemed like a long time, but probably was only 20 seconds or so I spoke up. “Okay, listen. First, you guys have to promise that you never, ever, tell anybody – anybody – about this. You know, I want to stay at this college and, well… ” I trailed off, beginning to ponder my next sentence. Talking was suddenly very hard.
I knew what I wanted to express next, but I wasn’t sure how to form the words to say it, so what came out was something like “And I just don’t want you guys to think bad of me if I do this. Like, I wouldn’t be doing anything bad and I wouldn’t be hurting anybody. In fact, I’d be doing quite the opposite. So, like, just still like me if I do this. And treat me good.”
Malcolm leaned into me. “Honey, nobody here is going to say nothing to nobody about anything that happens here. And, just speaking for myself, you are one chill girl, so you can believe that I ain’t gonna think bad of you no matter what you do.”
That was all I needed. I took the leap. I moved back into Malcolm quickly, kissed him strongly on the mouth, then turned back to Darrel, looked up at him innocently and grabbed his now less-than-semi-erect cock, stroked it slowly a couple of times and then put it in my mouth, staring right into his eyes the whole time. “Oh, baby!” was his immediate response as his cock immediately began to harden.
Meanwhile, Malcolm’s hand got back to work below my skirt, as he slid his hand up my body to the top of the hem and then began sliding my panties down. I lifted my ass up off the couch slightly to ease his task, all the while in my mind wondering what the hell had gotten into me. I was definitely at the point where I didn’t want to turn back anymore; I was going to fuck these three guys.
D.J. had moved over in the meantime, pushed aside the coffee table in front of the coach and he was on his knees in front of me, helping my panties down and off of my legs. Once off, he threw them to the side somewhere and his mouth was on my pussy, tongue sliding up and down between my slit as I continued to suck on Darrel’s cock. Malcolm, meanwhile, had gotten up off the couch and, what with my mind and body employed elsewhere, I had lost track of him until he sat down beside me again, grabbed my left hand, the one not currently in use, and guided it over to his cock. Without even a second thought, I began stroking him while sucking on Darrel.
Now, you’ve all heard the rumors about black guys and big cocks. Well, I’m not here to prove or disprove any such claims, but I will say this: Malcolm is 6’10”; Darrel is 6’9″. They are big dudes. Their arms are big, they’re legs are big, their fingers are big, their feet are big. And, yes, like everything else on these guys, their dicks are real fucking big. Like, I’m sitting there blowing Darrel and, not only am I having to concentrate hard to open my mouth wide enough to fit him in, but I know when I’m going down on him, I’m not even getting a quarter of his dick in my mouth. And, being the gentleman that he is, he wasn’t forcing me; he was just letting me do my thing.
Meanwhile, I’m stroking Malcolm and it seems like my hand has to go a mile and back just to do one lap on his cock. It was about time that I had serious concerns about being able to fit these guys in me. And then the thought came to my mind that, you know, there’s three guys here and I’ve got three usable holes; is it going to come to that?
But, slowly but surely, D.J. began to put those thoughts out of my head as he was quite adept at using his tongue. As I slid down the couch more and more to meet him, he began to get more adventurous, no longer just sliding his tongue up and down between my lips. He had wettened his fingers inside of me and now was beginning to use them to slowly massage my clit, while his tongue has lost interest in my pussy and had dove down even lower; he was now licking my asshole.
Now, I’m no quivering virgin – I’ve had my share of sexual partners – but I had never had anyone lick my ass before. And, holy crap, what a sensation. It sent such a wave of excitement up my body that I momentarily forgot what I was doing with my hand and mouth. Darrel gently prodded me to continue, and I picked both activities back up, but D.J.’s activities were beginning to become a priority for me. Just his masterful work on my clit would have been enough to have me on orgasm’s edge, but his venture further south was driving me crazy. Throw in the fact that Malcolm was doing a fine job of massage my boobs as I stroked him and I was in heaven.
But, just as I rounded the corner towards an orgasm, it became pretty apparent to me that Darrel wasn’t far behind. As my focus on my blowjob duties began to wane in anticipation of an amazing orgasm of my own, Darrel started thrusting into my face and, after a handful of pumps, he pulled his dick out of my mouth and emptied his balls all over my face. This sent me over the edge and wave after wave of the most exhilarating orgasm wracked my body. There I was, stroking Malcolm off, with a huge spray of cum from Darrel covering my face while D.J. licked my asshole and rubbed my clit. Maybe that Karen chick was right; maybe I was a dirty little slut.
When I regained my senses, Malcolm was berating Darrel. “Man, why’d you have to cum on her face?”
I came to Darrel’s defense. “No, it’s cool. That was totally hot. But now I gotta get fucked. Who’s up?”
Malcolm wasted no time claiming his prize. He pushed D.J. aside and pulled me up by my hands to a standing position. “Let’s go into the bedroom.”
He led the way, stopping to pick up my panties from the floor, handing them to me. “Here, you want to use these to clean your face off?”
I took that as a sign of chivalry and tried to clean most of Darrel’s cum off of my face, but couldn’t do a whole lot with the batch that had flown up into my hair. And, frankly, they were the kind of panties that were more frilly and lacy and not particularly absorbent, so more than anything else, I wound up just pushing the cum around on my face. And, anyway, we were soon into the bedroom and the next thing I know I’m on all fours with Malcolm behind me. I looked back at him and smiled as I watched him line up his cock for the runway. He winked at me, just as I felt the tip of his cock press up against my lips. Then he pierced me, spreading me wider than I had ever been spread before. There was a measure of pain, more like a pinch than anything else, and then he was in me. And he was mercifully gentle.
Meanwhile, D.J. had taken a spot opposite Malcolm and now it was my turn to repay him for all the good he had done for me on the couch. His dick was noticeably smaller than the others – D.J. was only 6’2″ – but still bigger than any other cock I had seen before today. Still, I took his smaller size as a blessing.
Better yet, I barely had to do any work. The way I was lined up on the bed, every time Malcolm thrust forward, it pushed me forward onto D.J’s cock. And when he pulled back out, I pulled back out on D.J.’s cock. I was like an automatic fucking machine, Malcolm providing the impetus for much of my blowjob on D.J.
Malcolm was phenomenal. As he was fucking me, he always had a hand arousing me in other ways. At first, he was leaning in and caressing one of my breasts through the dress I was still wearing, bunched up around my midsection. Then, he was reaching around me and rubbing my clit as he fucked me. And then, wow. And then, he started playing with my asshole. With each thrust back onto his cock, he slipped his middle finger into my little asshole. Now, like I said, I’m no quivering virgin. I’ve even played with my ass a little bit. But, again like I’ve said, these are big guys. And, Malcolm’s middle finger was fucking big too.
No lube, no nothing, but maybe the foreplay that D.J. had given me had loosened me up enough that his finger slid right into me without much resistance. And damn, did that feel good. Did I imagine it, or could I feel his finger and his cock almost rubbing together against a membrane. Damn, did I feel like I dirty little whore. And damn, did I like it. I was to the point – damn! – where my vocabulary – damn! – had been significantly – damn! – reduced. And it was damn good.
Before there was even a hint of one of these guys nearing another orgasm, I was into my second one. My whole body shuddered, I let out a guttural moan that I’m sure sounded like a wild animal of some sort, and god damn did I cum. I could feel my pussy tremble around Malcolm’s giant cock. And still he kept fucking me, pushing me forward onto D.J.’s cock, deeper and deeper, probably deeper than I was comfortable with as I began to feel myself gag some.
D.J. tried to slow down some in response to my struggles, but it wasn’t really up to him. Malcom was in full steam-engine mode now, in-and-out, in-and-out. Malcolm’s thrusts kept pushing me forward onto D.J. and I toughed it out, opening my mouth more and more for D.J.’s pleasure. Until I was too much for poor D.J. to handle and he began to spurt.
Malcolm hardly even noticed, continuing to pound away at my pussy, fingering my ass. As D.J. began to cum, the sensation of my tight little mouth on his engorged cock was too much for him to handle, so he instinctively pulled away. And in the process, his cock slid out of my mouth and, once again, I was left with a face full of cum, as he sprayed my hair, my eyes, my cheek, my mouth and even managed to get some on the shoulders of my dress.
D.J. pulled away into the darker recesses of the bedroom, where I saw Darrel as well, watching intently as Malcolm continued to drive me crazy with passion. It is one thing to have a guy you really like fucking the hell out of you. But it is another thing entirely to be two orgasms in, with the full loads of two other guys already on your face, and still getting fucked while an approving audience takes in the sights. Seriously, getting cummed on is fun. Continuing to get fucked while you’re face is drenched in cum? Ridiculously hot.
I was in such ecstasy, I didn’t even have time to worry about the hassle that the cum in my eye was going to be, or how hard it was going to be to get the cum out of my hair. I was just getting fucked. I leaned forward onto my folded arms and opened up my body for Malcolm to fuck me, waiting on that third orgasm that was just about to come. Seconds away from orgasm, Malcolm suddenly slowed, then pulled out of me and gently flipped me over.
“Everybody else has painted your face, I want to get in on that fun too.”
He pulled my lower body to the edge of the bed and, staring into my face, re-entered me missionary style. Even in the handful of seconds he was out of my pussy, it contracted a little bit, making the re-entry slightly uncomfortable. But, once in, he again had me on the verge of orgasm in no time. As that now familiar wave rushed over me and those inner contractions started in me, that familiar blank stare went over Malcolm’s face as he pulled out of me and then pulled my body down the edge of the bed to stare his giant cock straight in the head. With my orgasm still going strong and with the fingers of my right hand now finding my clit on my own, Malcolm’s cock exploded as I opened my mouth for him. He drenched my forehead in a blast of cum. Readjusting, I slid my body up and the next wave found my open mouth, inundating my lips, my tongue, hell, my tonsils with his warm cum. One more blast hit my lower lip and slid down my chin as I moved forward again and took his sensitive cock softly in my mouth, finishing him off and sucking the rest of his cum right down my throat.
I sat there on the ground, leaning against the bed, gathering my senses when a pair of strong arms lifted me up by my underarms off the ground and sat me on the bed. I expected it to me Malcolm, but when the person belonging to those two strong arms gently wiped away some of the accumulated cum on my face, I saw that it was Darrel.
“Jordan, I know I said I’d be down with just a blowjob and all, but god, I really want to fuck you now.”
In a quiet voice and with just a simple nod of my face I looked up at him and whispered: “Okay.”
He again lifted me up by my underarms, pulled my dress up and helped me take it off over my head, baring myself to the guys. He then turned me around and put me back on all fours. “And, you know, I was thinking. Uh, I wanna fuck that ass.”
That got my attention and I immediately exclaimed “No!” It was a word I hadn’t been using a whole lot this evening, but I had good reason. I rolled over on my side to get more comfortable.
“Why not, honey? I’ll be gentle.”
“I’m sure you will, but dude, there is no way your giant cock is going into my ass.”
He laughed. “Nah, baby. I’ll use a shitload of lube and you’ll be fine. I’ll take care of you. You’ll like it.”
“I dunno. I might let D.J. fuck me in the ass, but not you.”
“D.J.? Why D.J.?”
“Well, he’s a lot smaller than you.”
This comment cracked Darrel and Malcolm right up and they started clowning on D.J. “Oh, you hear that squirt? She said you got a small dick!”
“Noooo, believe me, he doesn’t have a small dick. But, damn, compared with y’all, he not as big.” D.J. took my response in the nature it was intended in.
“Here, check it honey,” said Darrel. “I’ll start with just my finger and then slowly build up to it and, you know, if at any point you want to stop, just say so and I’ll stop.”
It’s not that I felt pressured, but I wanted to give these guys what they wanted. And I was flattered that they wanted me. And so, “Okay” somehow came out of my mouth.
“That’s a girl,” said Darrel, moving over to the bedside table and coming back with an indiscriminate tube of something that I trusted was lube. He helped me back up onto my hands and my knees and, as I looked back at him in anticipation, he gently petted my ass as he drizzled the fluid down my crack and then got his hand all juiced up.
I turned my gaze back down to the bed, asking myself what the hell I was doing, when I felt his enormous presence against my little puckered ass. “Hey, man, I thought you were just gonna start with a finger!” I exclaimed as I turned around to look at him.
“Yeah, honey, I am,” he responded and I noticed that what I thought was his cock was merely his little pinky finger that he was lightly massaging my asshole with. Shit, I was gonna be in trouble.
But, Darrel, true to his word, turned out to be a gentle giant. He massaged the rim of my ass for about a minute before he began to make any penetration. And, given the enormous finger that Malcom had used to open my ass up, when Darrel did finally use his pinky to make headway, it was in my ass in no time. And it felt good.
D.J. came over and sat on the bed beside me and stroked my hair for awhile, then he reached under my body and began fondling my pussy while Darrel played with my asshole. This was perhaps the most gentlemanly gangbang in the history of the world.
Soon, Darrel’s pinky was out and replaced by his index finger. Soon after that, it was his middle finger that was the digit of choice. And, let me tell you, I’m sure there are guys out there whose cocks are smaller than Darrel’s middle finger. And then, Darrel leaned forward and kissed me on the back, kissed me between the shoulder blades, kissed me on the base of my neck, then filled the side of my neck with a variety of soft, delicate kisses. Then his lips were at my ear. “Just relax, honey,” he whispered in his velvet tone.
He pulled his body back away from me gently. I felt his finger withdraw from my ass. I felt a further drizzle of fluid on my crack. I felt D.J. stirring me closer and closer to another orgasm. And then I felt the head of Darrel’s cock slowly press against my asshole. He pressed forward softly, but with purpose. I felt myself open up for him. And, in a mixture of pain, pride and pleasure, he was in me. It felt like my whole ass was full, but then he pulled back about about an centimeter and he was out of me again.
He whispered: “Okay, we’re gonna do that again, a little bit further this time.” And then he pressed into me again and my body opened up to him again. I dropped my head down and gritted my teeth. Thank god D.J. was there to balance out the intensity of Darrel’s action with the oncoming rush of another orgasm. At this point, D.J. was not only rubbing my clit with his thumb, but he had two fingers inside of my pussy, stirring me ever.
Darrel again pulled back, although this time not all the way out, then pressed forward again and my whole hole seemed to open up for him. He was in me, and he was deep. That realization, combined with D.J.’s masterful work sent me over the edge and, by the time I regained my senses from an earth-shattering orgasm, Darrel was sliding himself in and out of my ass slowly. I was getting fucked in the ass by the biggest dick I had ever seen, and I was loving it.
It was about that time that Malcolm had recovered from his first go-round and was ready for act two. I don’t know how long he was standing in front of me jerking off before he lifted my chin up and slid his enormous cock in my mouth. But, well, there it was: dick in my ass, two fingers in my cunt and now a third guy fucking my mouth. Yup, just me being a total whore, I thought to myself; not damning myself or second-guessing myself but enjoying myself.
From there, honestly, the rest is a blur. Darrel fucked me until he came all over my back, while D.J. drove me on to another orgasm – or two – or three – who knows at this point. Malcolm then pulled me over to his side of the bed, laid me on my back and fucked my ass some more for a few minutes before he pulled out and came all over my stomach. Then D.J. – sweet D.J. – gave up his shot at my ass and fucked my pussy to another of countless orgasms on the evening, before jerking off in my mouth before I collapsed into the bed in ecstatic exhaustion.
I came back around some amount of time later, being spooned on the bed by Malcolm. He was dozing too, but when he noticed me stirring he came around.
“Hey honey, how you doing?” he asked.
“Um. I’m good. I’m, uh, yeah,” I didn’t know what to say; embarrassment reigned.
“Hey, did you have fun tonight?”
I thought about it for a few seconds, before the truth won out. “Hell yeah, I did!”
He laughed. “Good. Good. Listen, you want to shower up at all? You hungry? You need a drink? What can I do for you?”
“Oh, yeah. Damn. All of those things sound good. Shower, food and water. Probably in that order.”
He slid out of bed, lifted me up out of the bed into his strong arms and carried me into the bathroom, depositing me softly in his stand-up shower. “Okay sweetie, take your time, and we’ll take care of you when you’re done.”
And they did. By the time I got out of the shower, they had a nice terrycloth robe waiting for me and a big-ass bowl of ice cream and I sat on the couch and enjoyed the hell out of that while Darrel gave me a foot rub. Malcolm offered to take me home if I wanted, but I spent the night there in his bed before he gave me a ride back home on Thanksgiving morning, letting my borrow one of his hoodie sweatshirts (which basically covered my entire body) in lieu of my cum-stained dress from the previous night.
By Friday afternoon, my little body was still sore as shit from my Wednesday night escapade, enough so that I felt like absolute crap going through warm-ups and the layup line in advance of our sixth game of the season. But, when just before tip-off, I saw Malcolm, Darrel and D.J. walk down the tunnel and file into courtside seats to support me and my teammates, all those worries went away and I felt confident again. I had my first good game in my new uniform, I felt I proved myself to my new teammates and, most importantly, I had a lot of fun. And, every time I made a play, those three guys stood up on the sideline and cheered for me – just the first of many times they would show up to check out our games and cheer me and my teammates on.
And since that day, those guys had my back every step of the way. They’ve never told anybody what happened that night, they’ve never treated me as anything less than a princess and they’ve never expected anything more from me than I was willing to give. But, luckily for all involved, I’m usually willing to give plenty.