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I Every Give Break-Ins

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There was a tiny problem with taking showers where I lived then. No, it wasn’t that other people used up my soap and shampoo, because I wisely kept them in my room. And wasn’t that the lock was broken and sometimes people would walk in on me, because that was kind of exciting (they were mostly boys). And it wasn’t that this shower sometimes went freezing cold with no warning, although that was very annoying and could be a real o-killer.

No, it was that sometimes the water suddenly came out at a scalding temperature and you cooked like a lobster. I’m serious. Painful red welts that lasted for days. But nobody was seriously hurt, so I tried to look at it as a mean painplay tease.

I had to do that because for me, masturbating in the shower is something close to a religious observance. I’ve always felt very sensual bathing. For a long time now, I’d had “silent but deadly” cumms from playing with myself, and I’d gotten away with bringing my cookie off in I guess you would say some crazy places, as well as very often. That included almost every shower I took in that building. I trembled hard, likely made some funny faces too, but standing outside waiting for your turn you’d never know.

So on the morning when next we like lay our scene and shit, I was in the shower with my eyes closed and the warm water streaming down me, yanking a nipple with my left hand and slapfucking myself with my right. Maybe slapfucking is just a me thing. That’s when I have my middle finger pumping inside me, but the rest of my hand cupping my pussy. I move my whole hand in and out and it’s like a pussy slap as well as a deep finger. A real challenge to do quietly, both for the slapping and the not crying out.

Yeah, I had a few toys, the same ones every girl’s got under a pile of lame sweaters. The same old injection-molded fake dick, the same old noisy “back massager” on clearance from Target, the same old vibrating bullet on a cord with a control stick so you can spend a day with it taped to your clit and realize it’s not really as hot as perverts make it sound, and of course the same slimmish, featureless vibrator that’s only vaguely dick-shaped. But for the Masters, I kinda prefer the personal touch when I’m touching my personal.

Joe thought we were a couple. I helped him think that being a couple meant we had to do it constantly, and never with protection. I used phrases like “Don’t you trust me?” and “Don’t you love me?” to wrap him around my finger. I think he was failing all his classes at that point, because I didn’t give two shits about his school schedule.

But sometimes I wanted to fly solo. And morning showers were some of those times. My middle was surrogate dicking me from fingertip to palm on every stroke, and I was thinking about that en_extase story where this girl is home from college and she’s fucking her older sister’s boyfriend in the shower while that sister is brushing her teeth like three feet away and scolding him for not getting along with her family. Our heroine is bent over to the wall, and she looks back at her sister’s boyfriend while he’s got his whole cock sleeved in her, and she makes a pouty face at him like “aw, isn’t it so sad that you’re not being nicer to me?” And even though they’re not moving and trying not to make any noise, he goes off into her right there.

That’s like my favorite shower fantasy. I was imagining myself as that little sister, holding still and being quiet while my sister’s older boyfriend guiltily throb-throb-throbbed his globby payload into me. I was imagining the kind of face he’d make, and getting really close, when someone rattled the door.

I slipped my finger out of myself and pulled back the frosted glass door. It was David, the guy next door. I didn’t know him very well, only that he had a huge adam’s apple and was on the school team for some girly sport like swimming or aerobics or tennis. He was wearing nothing but a pair of tented blue briefs, and I realized that although the glass was frosted, enough of me had been pressed against the glass to give him a show. Of course, he was a show too. Obviously rolled straight out of bed, messy hair, not at all hulked out but tight and toned, with nice clean abs.

I turned off the water so we could talk. “Hi David,” I said, catching my breath, “what’s up?” I had a pretty good idea what was up in those briefs.

“I’ve got places to be in 20 minutes,” he said. And then he got a little impolite. “Isn’t all that sex with Joe enough?”

No, it wasn’t. Joe wanted it, and I guess I wanted it, but it was boring, even though I made a point of experimenting with new positions every time. “We’re not having sex,” I said, “Joe and I are just roommates.” Behind the glass door, I slipped my hand back to my clam and began to move my fingertips together in a clit-mashing circle.

“Come on,” said David, “I can hear it. ‘Oh Mary, oh Joe, oh Mary, oh Joe.’ All the time.”

I guess together, we’re not that quiet. “Uh… sorry.”

“Some crazy dirty talk too. Are you really trying to get pregnant?”


“I didn’t think so.” He stared through the door and I realized too late that there was enough detail through it for him to see where my arm was. “Are you still buffing it?”

I looked him in the eye and panted a little. “Yeah. You shouldn’t have interrupted me.”

“Well, like I said, I got things I need to do, so could you finish yourself off someplace else?”

“You’re gonna be late anyway,” I said, speeding up, “’cause of the time it’ll take you to whack it down the drain.”

“I’ve got a little more discipline than you.”

“Really?” I said, “Even after seeing this?” And I slid the door all the way open. I was still going at it.

He swallowed hard and stared at my boobs. My boobs are not gigantic, but what I do have going for me is what Janey calls nip-henge. My nipples are very expressive, and when I’m hot for it, you can see thick, rough circles of hard points in the halos. In a way, they stare back.

“Tell you what, David,” I said. “I’m a nice neighbor. I can blow you so you won’t be late.”

“I want to fuck,” he said urgently, moving his attention from my nips to my bulging, flushed twat lips, which puckered as I mauled them, giving him glimpses of the pink. He slipped his dick out of the fly in his briefs. It was all the way barred up.

“I don’t fuck. I’m a virgin.”

“You’re a lying slut!” he hissed, and pushed me against the back of the shower stall as he stepped in.

This was among the hottest things that had ever happened to me. His precummy joy fist was resting skin-to-skin on the center of my upper body, just under my tits. I think I could have taken his pulse if I’d been counting the throbs. It is awesome that cocks throb, one of my favorite things about them. I felt my wet shoulderblades and ass sliding smoothly on the wall tiles as I stared at him, lips parted, willing him to rape me.

Instead he moved to one side as if to let me out, looked down at his own needy bone, and started jacking it with a white-knuckled fist.

“Stop it!” I whispered sharply. “I said I’d blow you.”

His hand stopped and he looked up at me.

“I’ll suck you off if you promise me I’m a virgin. And not a liar or a slut.”

“Okay,” he said, eyes wandering all over me. “Do it.”

“First you say it,” I said, twisting my shoulders. Maybe he could still lose control.

But he didn’t. “You’re not a slut, Mary. I believe you. You’d never tell a lie. If you say you’re a virgin, you’re a virgin. The guy… the guy who pops you is going to be so lucky.” His eyes were watering. “Now suck me!” he begged.

I had him all the way in my throat before my knees actually touched the floor of the stall. He made a sound that was more of a yodel than anything else. I dragged my lips up to the mid-shaft and mouth-fucked him in short strokes back and forth.

To stop him grabbing my head, I reached up and held his hands, feeling his sweaty palms quiver. One of my hands was just wet on his, but the other was slick with my cunt leakings.

The point of my move was not the shaft, of course, which isn’t very sensitive (and I wanted to finish him fast). I was getting his head to go in and out of my throat. He was extremely happy about it, and after about fifteen quick strokes, he was giving my tonsils a hot bath to go with the massage. I could tell he was trying not to make too much noise, but his orgasmic sigh must have involved the full capacity of his lungs.

I kept going as he came down. As he began to soften, I throated him one last time, gave a hard little suck, and disengaged. I stood up, snapped the waistband of his briefs with my thumb, and said, “You should take these off before you have your shower!”

As I stepped out, I could hear him struggling out of them. I borrowed a bit of mouthwash from somebody who kept their bottle of it in the bathroom, rinsed real well, spat. I say borrowed. Obvs they never got it back.

On my way out the bathroom, I got the impression through the shower door that David’s hard-on hadn’t gone down much. Too bad.

I took myself and my obviously hungry pussy back to the room, damp and naked. As I opened the door, Joe was zipping up his backpack, clearly ready to leave.

“Joe, I need it,” I ordered sternly, bracing one foot straight over my head on the closet door, pointing my snatch at him. I could feel my swollen lips pulled slightly open, and I knew he could see just a glistening sliver of paradise.

“But we just did it ten minutes ago!” he protested.

“No we didn’t.” I pumped my hips a bit. And belatedly closed the hall door.

“Yes we did! In your bed!”

“Oh, that time. That was twenty minutes ago.” It was fifteen.

“I can’t go again, Mary.”

“Yes you can.”

“I can’t get hard.”

“Really? Let me see.”

Sheepishly, Joe slipped his pants off.

“See?” I said. “You’re half hard already.”

“It’s sore.”

“Come over here. Rub it where it goes.”

Joe kicked his pants off his ankles and kneaded the tip of his chub back and forth over my slit. Sure enough, it was getting harder.

“Put it in me, lover.”

“I, we don’t have time…” But he was sweating, and I could tell he was weakening.

“Dude, come on. Are you my boyfriend or not?”

“I’m yours forever.” It was a struggle not to roll my eyes, and I don’t think I won that struggle entirely, but fortunately his attention was elsewhere.

“And I’m your girlfriend, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Mary. You’re my beautiful girlfriend.” He thrust it into me at last. “Oh, oh… you’re so wet. You’re so wet for me Mary!”

“I was thinking of you in the shower.”

He got into it, holding my raised leg and fucking me hard and fast and deep. I was starting to feel the snakes of ecstasy when we were startled by a boyish shriek nearby. Joe lost his grip, I lost my balance, and I hit my head on the wall on my way down.

Tangled on the floor, Joe standing over me, I giggled. “I think somebody just got scalded,” I said, but that wasn’t what I thought at all. If David had managed to push himself over again, for a guy it would have been too soon, and maybe even quite painful. He’d remember me all right.

“Are you okay?” said Joe nervously, as if a girl falling down while he railed her might make him Jack the Ripper.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said impatiently, spread-eagling for him, even two-fingering my glory apart in case the rest wasn’t enough. “I didn’t hit my head that hard. Get down here and give me what I need.”

He positioned himself above me and set his knob over my hole. As he pushed himself back in, too slowly and too carefully, I put one hand on nipple duty and the other circle-rubbing my clit area. He picked the pace back up and my head was rolling on the carpet. I could feel spots of his drool on my face and collarbone but I don’t think he noticed.

I think it was the drool that did it for me. It was a sign that he’d completely lost control. I made him do that. My power over him was sexual and absolute. I squeezed my eyes shut, hips rising off the carpet, fuck muscles milking his rod frantically, and saw a thrashing riot of fine grains of every color, pins and needles of the eyes. As my greedy, victorious pussy blotted out the world, and satisfaction deprived me of every other sense, the visual noise became slow, spinning geometric patterns.

When at last I came down, Joe was still fucking away at me. I gave him a little push away and he very reluctantly pulled out.

“What time is it?” I asked. “I think I gotta go.”

“But I haven’t finished yet,” said Joe.

“We’re both late,” I pointed out, though really only he was.

“Aren’t you my girlfriend?”

I was planning to leave him hanging, but the ongoing deception about our being a real couple together, combined with a good look at his gleaming boner, convinced me to have mercy. I planted my lips on the head, stabbed my tongue at the tip, and then pushed down. I was never all that crazy about my own quim juice before, but I had come to associate the taste with fucking like rabbits, which I was realizing gave it a certain appeal.

“I want to do it inside you,” he said quickly, and I could tell he was saying it so fast because he was in immediate danger of losing it.

“This is inside me, baby,” I said, slurping his head into my mouth for emphasis, popping it back out.

“I mean in your pussy,” he groaned.

“This is my pussy,” I said sweetly. “This is my face pussy.” I slipped my head forward, forcing him down my throat, and stroked his inner thighs rapidly up and down with just the tips of my fingers.

It shattered him. “Mary, I love you,” he howled, even as he spurted chowder down the inside of my neck, “Mary, I’m so in love with you.”

I pulled off before he was all the way done, jacking him with my lefty. His last glob jumped out and draped itself over my right breast. I scooped it up with my finger and licked it all away.

“We’d better go,” I said.


He got his pants back on and headed out. “Love you,” I called after him, but I think he didn’t notice. I could hear him running down the steps as I strapped on a bra. I threw a tank top over it, pulled on some daisy dukes, went with the tall grey Uggs, and rolled out at a fast walk. I’d walked halfway to class before I realized it was still pretty cold for these clothes, and also that I’d forgotten panties.

I could live with both. I was sure I had fucked-against-a-wall hair too. I kept going.

After class, it was late morning and much more comfortable outside. I was fired up from the looks the boys in the lecture hall had been giving me. I was wishing I’d gone braless too.

Walking through the part of the student neighborhood with nice houses where people had to split the rent eight ways to afford it, I heard something interesting carried on the breeze: the clap-clap-clap of doggy-style nuts on ass. Okay, that alone might not have been enough to identify it, but the quavering shrieks of joy sealed it. Someone was a screamer.

I might not have been able to isolate it if I hadn’t spotted the open window. It was a two-pane over-and-under with the lower half open. I crept over. It was too high to peek in directly, because the house had a raised foundation, but I could reach the outside sill just barely enough to boost myself up on my forearms.

What I saw was utterly awesome. A gangly but kinda handsome boy with a buzz cut was slamming a huge-titted bottle blonde. They were in a bedroom, on the double bed, with messed-up cream silk sheets all around them. She was wearing nothing but white stockings and black pumps, mouth open, eyes closed. As I watched, the boy raised one hand and right-left spanked her ass without breaking pace. Was he… oh shit, he was chewing gum. He was utterly destroying her and somehow he wasn’t really into it.

Something about the situation really got to me. I needed a hand free. I managed to plant a boot on a fence post and slip my right arm off the windowsill. I got the top button on my dukes and unzipped the fly, then dug in with my trusty index. I set up a rocking motion, with my index finger probing my sex hole and my thumb and my thumb pleasing the little man in the boat.

I had to rebalance. I shifted my other foot to the fence post. Suddenly I felt my dukes slipping down. I tried to move my foot back, but it was too late. I was naked from waist to ankles, or belly button to ankles really, and I could only fix it by either not watching or not masturbating, both unacceptable options.

Eager to finish and deal with this, I jilled off fast enough to make my breasts shake, even in a bra and a tight tank. The blonde’s shrieks became a sort of prayer to her gum-chewing god: “Oh please I’m close, oh please I’m close, don’t stop, Keith, don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m so close to cumming, I can feel it, I’m gonna come, I’m close to cumming, please don’t stop…”

I redoubled my efforts… and lost my footing. One boot slipped off the fence post. I had only one arm on the windowsill, and the sudden jolt downward cost me that. That left me with one boot on a fence post way off my center of gravity. I tried to brace against the wall with my free arm, and with a little more presence of mind I might even have been able to stop touching my pie, but as it was I tumbled onto their side lawn with a scrape on my shin from the fence.

By a heroic act of will I pulled my finger out of my crotch pocket and hiked my dukes back to my waist. I walked away as much like nothing had happened as possible.

When I got back home I washed out the scrape, put two band-aids on it over the worst parts, and checked my email. Amazon is really terrible about sending me spam. After a few minutes of reading blogs and twitter feeds, I realized my pussy still needed something stabbed in it. I got out my fake plastic cock and throated it, hand to face, while I pulled up Joe’s porn directory and kicked off my soggy, cunt-smelling shorts.

I picked a bondage video. A cute Asian girl was bound onto a frame, legs forced spread, strings running from clips on her fuck lips to her toes, so that she was holding herself open on a smaller scale too. A burly, angry man, florid and balding, was running a mysterious black probe up and down on her third rail. “Don’t come!” he told her.

She shook and spasmed, and her junk was so wet it looked like she’d sat in a puddle of vegetable oil. I pushed my dildo into where it was supposed to go, just the tip at first, pretending to myself that I was pleading with it not to go any further. Once I got the whole head in, I fucked it in and out a bit as if the dildo had promised me it would fuck my first couple inches, but no deeper.

In the video, the man asked the girl if she’d come.

“No,” she sobbed.

“Good,” he barked. Fuck, dildo, fuck. Other hand on the top of my slit, tickling my hood. “Now this is medium.”

He’d done something with the probe, I guess. It didn’t look any different, but she was reacting even harder.

“Don’t come!” he reminded her. “Don’t you dare!”

I didn’t think she could hold out. It was minutes before he stopped.

“Did you come?” he demanded.

“No,” she sobbed again. She was broken.

“All right,” he said, seeming mollified, “one last one. This is high.”

As soon as the tool touched her, she gurgled, “I’m coming!” and jolted upwards, arched to the limit of the bonds.

Oh, he’s going to punish her, I thought eagerly. He’s going to punish the fuck out of that little whore. Take it, you little whore. I rammed my dildo all the way into my body except for its fake plastic balls, and long-stroked it in and out. There was noise. I was staying quiet, but the dildo was making sharp little slimy sounds in my orchid. I bit my lip.

“Did you come?” asked the man unpleasantly.

“Yes,” she said.

“I told you not to,” he said, annoyed. There was a pause, then he added, “Why did you?”

I doubled speed, feeling the feeling that this was it. Those were the only words I’d be able to think as I had my own cumm. Skipped the video back a bit to watch it again.

One last one. This is high. I’m coming. Take it, you little whore. Did you come. Yes. I told you not to. Why did you?

Why did you come? Why did you cum? Why did you feel good? Why did you cum with your cunt!

I whimpered, then grunted. Then came. The chair rattled a little as it shook with me. When I pulled the cock out, I noticed my thighs were wet.

I sat back and didn’t think about much for a minute. Then I noticed What I had in my hand. I brought the dildo back to my face, licked the balls clean, and throated it. On the outstroke I held my lips tight around it to clean it up.

I didn’t want to put it back with spit on it. I walked bottomless to the bathroom, washed it in the sink, and dried it on Joe’s towel.

No one was there to push me to the wall or throw me to the floor or cuff me to the showerhead. No one was there to see me like this, barefoot, wearing only a short tight tank top, clutching a dripping dildo. No one was there to give me the forcible fucking I needed. That my cunt needed. That I was going to die without.

I still hadn’t had an orgasm as good as the rape.

Back in my room, I pulled out my phone, called that guy with the muscles I met at the party. I got his voice mail and hung up.

Feeling restless and weird, and definitely still horny, I stripped. Rooting through my clothes, I dug out my new swimsuit and put it on. It was a fluorescent green v-suit. You know what I’m talking about. Shoulder to crotch to other shoulder, same deal in the back. If I’d needed to cover my shoulder blades, it would have been good. It mostly almost covered my boobs, and sadly my nipples didn’t poke through, but from the back, the mirror informed me that the beginning of my ass crack was visible. From the front, if I didn’t shave everything, there definitely would have been some thatch. As a final touch, I took a sharpie and wrote a secret message on the palm of each hand.

I stuck my feet into flip-flops, ready to go. It was too cold to swim, but not too cold for the beach. Nowhere near too cold to fuck. A boy could face-to-face me against one of the sheds at the beach, the crotch of my suit pushed to one side to make way for his invader, in front of a crowd, as the rest of the suit fell off and they all saw the way he made my tits shake and my nips stand out. I could shriek like that bleach-blonde slut, I’m close I’m close, as he chewed gum in my face and didn’t care about the brain-wiping cumm he was about to give me.

I pulled my hand out of the suit’s crotch, but slowly, fighting every step of the way. It was too padded to camel toe properly, no matter how I tried. About to give up, I realized what I had to do. I got out my dinky little swiss army knife, made a few cuts, and carefully took the padding out. Breasts too. Bathing suits should expose my body, not hide it.

Now my camel toe was as clear as if I’d drawn it on with the sharpie. My nipples looked good. I took the water bottle out of my backpack and spilled a bit over my boobs and twat. The transparency wasn’t great, but clinging was. Nips came through the fabric in hi-def. I could even kinda make out the bumps in the halo.

Feeling much better, I headed out into the grey noon. I passed by a couple of people as I walked south. Boys. They stared. I stared back, silently daring them to do something about it. They didn’t.

By the time I got back to that house, my suit was dry again. Too bad. Still a pretty good look at my goodies though. I pulled myself up to the window and looked in, feeling super aware of the band-aids on my shin.

I fucking knew it. The blonde girl was zonked out. Still had her shoes and stockings on. Come like that, you’ll feel warm and satisfied and weak. You’ll sleep. But the boy, who hadn’t been into it, he wouldn’t go to sleep. There he was, doing something on his phone, white earbuds in, half a bottle of beer on the nightstand beside him.

I dropped down and walked around to the front, toes clenched to keep my flip-flops from making noise. I tried the door. Open. Slipped inside, guessed the layout, and quietly, quietly, quietly opened the door.

It was their bedroom, with their cream silk sheets. Her with her stockings and heels. I slipped my flip-flops off. Let the boy spot me from the corner of his eye. He looked at me, startled, and I held up my right hand.

On the palm I had written HI KEITH <3.

With my other hand, I pinched my nipple and rolled it between my fingers. When I was sure he’d read the hand, I put a finger to my lips. Shh. Glanced meaningfully at his sleeping girlfriend.

He nodded, set his phone and earbuds aside, and stood up. He was tenting, and what’s more, he stripped for me. All business. Totally on my page. I was more his type than his girlfriend, for sure.

I picked up his beer, throated the neck, and chugged it. Boys don’t mind me drinking their beers when I do it like that.

He moved closer to me. But I moved over to the bed, and I dropped to my knees, my face inches from the blonde’s.

He went with it!

The instant he was close enough, I locked my lips over his head and squirmed them over the place where it joined the shaft. I laced my fingers in his and covered his cockend in tender little licks with the tip of my tongue. He lasted I think like two minutes, a long time for one of my BJs because I wasn’t going all out.

I don’t think his dick tasted much like pussy. Maybe he’d had a shower… or washed it off after she fell asleep. His cum was cum; I had no problem with that.

As he stepped back, out of breath and trying to be quiet about it, I held up one finger, as if to say “one minute.” Leaning over the girl, hitting Keith with the pleadingest eyes, I licked one shiny black heel.

Then I drooled out his spooge all over it.

From feet away, I could hear his breath catch.

I held up my left hand.

On my palm I had written MORE?

He nodded, held up two fingers. Two minutes?

I couldn’t fucking wait that long! Kneading my twat through the suit with the heel of my hand, I crawled over to him and captured his dick in my mouth. He couldn’t do anything loud about it without waking the blonde up, and like you might guess, a boy trying to push a girl away from sucking his peener isn’t all the way invested in succeeding.

I pumped him in and out of my mouth at first, and as he got more stiffness back, in and out of my throat. Finally I deep-throated him and held him there, and with the whole salami hidden right under my nose, I finger-traced a heart on his stomach. His hands drifted to my head and I batted them away, pushing him down on the bed next to his girl.

I climbed on top of him, knees to either side of his hips. I kissed him adoringly. I could feel his warm fingers, delicate for a boy’s, pulling the crotch of my suit aside. He lunged his puppy up into me, and the feeling was like wrapping myself in a warm electric blanket on a cold morning, and of course getting penetrated for a good hard boy-girl fuck at the same time. I couldn’t help myself. I squeaked, “Oh shit!”

Instantly we froze. We turned to look at the blonde. She was still asleep. I felt something wonderful on my nipple and looked down to see him teasing it, biting it lightly through the suit with his front teeth. I leaned back so I could see his thing poking into mine. I pointed. He stared. I showed him the MORE? palm and he nodded eagerly.

We began to move. I wished I’d written more on me, like maybe on my breasts so I could reveal them. I could have put SHOW ME YOUR PORN on one boob and DO IT INSIDE ME on the other. I could have let him doggy me and written something on the parts of my back the suit covered.

But when we began to move, that didn’t make a difference. It felt good. I ground back against him and whined impatiently until he was slamming me, grunting with every stroke, and I had to hold onto the headboard for dear life. Through my clenched teeth, I made involuntary little squeaks as the violence of his fucking knocked breaths of air from my lungs.

“Oh my god,” said his girlfriend, but we were too into it to give a shit.

The need for stealth was gone. I was determined to ride this out until I came or his bitch girlfriend hit me in the head with a lamp or something. “Fuck me harder, stud,” I said, “show your girlfriend what you spread around.” I locked gazes with her, though it wasn’t easy with Keith going wild in my Place Where Babies Are Made. I could read some interest in her face. I could read some lust. “Watch us,” I gasped, “Fucking watch us. It’s not the first time. It’s not the fucking first time.” I licked my lips, flicked my tongue. “Watch your boyfriend make me cum again. Watch him put his cheating wad in me. Right in front of you. Right in front of youuuu.”

“Oh my god,” she said… delightedly? “Oh my god. It’s just like we talked about. Make me jealous, Keith. Fuck her. Show me what you’re giving some other girl. Fuck that nasty slut!”

“I’m… not a slut,” I said between squeals and hard, heavy panting. “This is my… first time.”

Even through our mutual passion, I noticed Keith looking skeptical, but I sidelined that thought for the time being.

“Oh yeah,” I continued, “look at me giving it up to your man. He’s gonna get me pregnant and leave you.”

“Oh you whore,” she growled sexily, and I could see she was two-finger pumping her own blushing cookie, “you fuckin’ do it. You better let him knock you up. When you’re weak and gravid I’ll fucking kick you down the stairs and suck his cock while you miscarry in a puddle of blood.”

I didn’t expect to like her, let alone this much, but I really, really did. “You stupid cunt,” I swore at her, feeling the sweat plastering my hair to my blazingly flushed face, feeling the flush all down the front of my body where my revealing suit let them both see it, “he’d break your nose for that, pull out a fistful of your hair. When I was in intensive care he’d sit in the waiting room, masturbating his hard cock for me, hiding it behind a copy of Time Magazine from 2003. He’d cum for me on a picture of Qusay Hussein’s face, and when he was finished, he’d sneak into my room and cum in my IV bag. He’d wake me up and I’d blow him and we’d fuck again and I’d be twice as pregnant, you worthless slag. Your nose would be bleeding all over the kitchen while you looked for the paper towels. Your boyfriend feels so good in me.”

She was grinning, but her dark eyes were glazed with lust. “Oh yeah, skank. Work that cock. It belongs to me. I wanna see you cry and beg for more of what I get every day. Every night. Fuck her good, Keith. Shove this bitch into paradise with your fat girlpleaser.”

“Do it Keith,” I told him, “make me sing with the angels. Our baby’s gonna grow up to be an A-list actress and you can fuck her too. Fuck her like you’re fucking me. Keep fucking me. I’m gonna come from you fucking me. I’m gonna come from you fucking me, but only if your girlfriend’s watching. Keep watching me, you dumb cunt. You can’t keep a man. I’m so much hotter than you. Anything you want, I can have, have in my pussy.”

“Oh you’re close, huh, you little boychaser?”

“I’m as close as you were. I was peeking on you. You took it from behind.”

She looks surprised for a second, then rolls with it. “We were loud, huh? We were loud for you. Show you what you’ve been missing. Fuck I’m cumming, eeeep. Heeeeee.”

“Yeah, cum for us, you loser. Cum watching me and my new boyfriend, you trash. He’s not yours anymore. Oooh, oh yeah. Did you bleach your hair for him? Did you wear those heels for him? It’s too late now, he’s gone.”

She was coming down, but still frigging away at herself. “Yeah, yeah, I did all those things for Keith. What’s he gonna make you do? He’ll make you pierce your lips, put giant rings in ’em. Make you crawl everywhere, cut off your fingers and toes. You’ll do it all ’cause you’re a slave to his cock. I can see you losing your mind right now. He’s the hard, powerful master and you’re the whimpering, begging slave.”

“Oooh, that’s right, you’re right,” I said, drawing it out in a pout, getting that roman candle fuse feeling in my guts, “I’m a slutty slave to this cock forever. I’m in thrall to the dick that popped me. I only needed one hit and my cunt was addicted.”

“I can tell you’re close, tramp,” she spat, “so taste the pussy he thinks is good enough to live with!” And she crammed her slimy fingers in my mouth.

“Nuhhhh!” I said. I shook my head, spat them out. “I’m not gay, you fucking dyke,” I shouted, a lot less playfully.

She was getting angry too, but I wasn’t thinking at the time about how playful she was, I was just feeling threatened. “What’s that, ho? My fingers aren’t good enough for you? My pussy’s not good enough for you?” She straddled her boyfriend’s legs, just behind me, and pressed her body into mine.

I was repulsed, but bouncing on Keith’s cock felt too good to even consider stopping. “Fuck you… lesbo…” I managed.

“Don’t fight it,” she whispered in my ear, much more softly and sweetly than any of the rest. “Don’t fight me. I’m going to push you over the edge, and you’re going to be so grateful to me you’ll never touch a cock again. Just eat my pussy for the rest of your life. Except when Keith is fucking it, telling me how much better it is than yours.”

“No… get off… I’m really cumming…”

“Yeah,” she chanted tenderly, intimately, “yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” As I’m writing this, if I close my eyes, I can almost still hear her in my right ear.

Her hand was doing a magical demolition job on my clit. The shakes I usually get in my thighs, I was getting in my whole spine. When my bomb cunt went off, all the air in me rushed out my clenched throat, and I couldn’t tell you whether it was a shout, a grunt, a groan, a scream, a moan, a howl… I guess really it was all of those together, and while it was going on I didn’t think it would ever end.

A weird, detached part of me just felt peaceful as my body shook itself apart. It was as though most of the time my body was in incredible pain, and just this once I’d been given the right painkiller, and all the pain had gone away, and I could think. It was an island of tranquility in an ocean of broken glass.

But then, on another level, my body and I were one, having a bliss seizure, losing control, feeling so decadently perfect, like no drug or anything else that has ever happened to me. As though for one moment all of me had a purpose, a very violent and ecstatic purpose that threw every muscle into overdrive, catalyzed every neuron into burnout, crisped my blood to ashes. Every atom of destruction another screaming voice shredding my soul into something better and more delicious.

It wasn’t as good as the rape, but I was beginning to wonder if anything could be.

When I came down, I was huddled against Keith’s chest. He must have had his cum when I did, because he wasn’t fucking me anymore. I had my ear to his bare chest. I could feel his sweat and hear his heart racing. His girlfriend was lying on my back and I could hear and feel her breath on my spine.

I felt a sudden surge of panic. I tried to scramble out from between them. Keith grunted and stroked my hair, like he was trying to calm me. I twisted away. His girlfriend let me up and I tumbled off the bed.

“I’m not gay,” I said weakly. “That didn’t make me gay.”

Her head on her lover’s chest, where mine had been, the girl looked at me with her dark eyes clearer than they’d ever been when Keith was inside me. “Are you serious,” she said flatly.

I tried to get up. My legs wouldn’t hold me. I face-planted the carpet. Rolled over, spitting out carpet fibers.

“That hard, huh?” she said.

I tried to crawl. It turned into a belly flop. It was all I could do to turn my head so I wouldn’t be face-down on the floor.

“Are you okay?” asked Keith.

I felt my lower lip trembling, and tears forming in my eyes. I could feel one side of my suit had come off and my bare tit was pressed into the carpet.

Keith got off the bed, took the top sheet off, and wrapped it around me. He helped me sit up against the wall. The silk felt nice, especially on my exposed nipple. “You’re going to be okay,” he said.

His girlfriend came over and hugged me. “Really. It’s going to be fine. You were great.”

I jerked away from her. “Stop it.”

She backed off, stood up. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Keith cuddled me, rubbing my shoulders. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m straight,” I sobbed quietly, trying to control myself. “I’m straight. I’m not a lesbian.”

Even through my tears I could see them exchange glances. I couldn’t read the glances, though. I pulled my suit back over myself. Over my fucked cunt, over my right boob.

“That’s right,” said Keith. “We had straight sex together. It was perfectly normal.” He planted a kiss on a tear as it ran down my face.

I was getting much closer to pulling myself together. “Could you just…” I said. “Could you just give me a minute alone, please?”

“Sure,” said Keith, and they went out of the room.

I blew my nose on the sheet, silently apologizing as I did. I didn’t know if you had to do any kind of special laundry stuff with silk sheets. I wiped my face a little. It wasn’t a great towel.

Then I threw it aside and cautiously stood up, hands on the wall.

I could stand. For a little while.

I went over to the window, pulled out the screen, and straddled the sill. Carefully, I lowered myself over the other side. The last foot down to the grass, I just fell. I lay there for what felt like enough time that I worried they’d come back into the room, then picked myself up, hobbled to the sidewalk, spotted a gate, and let myself through it just before I collapsed again.

I nudged the gate shut with my foot. I was in a private yard. There was no way I could make it home. I took another long moment to recover, then crawled weakly under a low-hanging branch and lay there, waiting to lose consciousness.

I don’t think it took long.

When I woke up, it was dark, and I could hear boys talking. Something about the Seahawks. I was freezing cold. My face felt crusty with old tears. My cunt and the suit crotch were sticky. Overall I felt better, though. I rose to my knees, looking carefully through the screen of leaves.

I saw three boys in swim trunks unloading a cooler of beer. One of them docked his ipod into a stereo which started playing LMFAO. Next to them were the unmistakable square profile, liquid underlighting, and rising steam of a hot tub at night.

This is roughly what Moses saw when he looked into the Promised Land. As they turned their backs to me to count out money and share the cost of the beer, I made straight for the tub and eased myself in. The music covered me. “Every day I see my dream.”

I ducked my head under to clean my face, scrubbed over and under the suit for my crotch, and rubbed my palms together to at least fade out HI KEITH <3/MORE?.

Here was the question, though. That day I had jilled off in the shower, blown my neighbor, fucked and sucked the roommate who thought he was my boyfriend, accidentally gone to class commando, frigged it to a complete stranger and his girlfriend, fallen and cut myself, masturbated again to bondage porn, walked around in a slutted-out swimsuit, blown a stranger, fucked him in front of his girlfriend, been fingered off by his girlfriend while he fucked me, collapsed, had a crying breakdown, slept for hours outdoors in not particularly great weather, and not eaten a thing. I had to be a mess, right? Was I something these guys would want to find in their hot tub?

I was agonizing over this, and wondering whether to sneak away and go home, when I unexpectedly shifted over a water jet. I had no idea I still wanted it, but it felt like a lance of pure awesome. I bit my cheeks to keep from squealing, moaning, or whatever other noises I would have made. I could feel my hips rocking with it.

I abandoned myself to it. I filled my head with the night of the rape.

“Hey,” said a male voice, “what are you doing?”

Oops. I opened my eyes. The boys were standing by the side of the hot tub, staring at me like I was suspended in a beam from a flying saucer with my fist up my chocha.

I licked my lips. “I’m getting off,” I said. “There’s like a jet on my pussy. I wouldn’t have to do this but you guys kept me waiting.”

“Not anymore!” said the guy in blue trunks, who was the shortest and fittest one and had the longest hair, and he vaulted into the tub like there was no time to waste.

“Sit on the edge, baby,” I told him, “I need you in my mouth.”

“Wooooo!” shouted the other two.

“I told you these Epsilons were crazy,” said Blue Trunks, and he hauled himself onto the side.

“Have some scenery,” I said, and slipped the suit off my shoulders. It floated loosely on the water, and it wasn’t tight over my butt and cunny anymore.

Blue Trunks let me pull them off. I let them float in the tub as I pumped his half-on with my right hand and fingered his taint with my left. I opened my mouth with want, staring at his face, his cock, his friends, breathing hotly so they could hear it.

From six inches out, I lunged onto his shaft. Immediate full throat. If the Epsilons had a reputation I was going to have to live up to it.

“Jesus Christ!” exploded one of the other guys, laughing. “That’s not even fucking possible.”

“Mm hm!” I contradicted him, my throat packed with lusting boy. Then I began to tilt my head from side to side, rolling my throat around his hot penis. My loose suit slipped aside and the hot tub jet soared up into my bare victory nest.

I didn’t actually have an orgasm at that moment, but I was feeling amazing at the same time he was cumming.

He pulled out of me all smiles. “That was, like… expert craftsmanship.”

“Yeah I know,” I said, being too cool to smile. “Who’s next?”

I didn’t see the color of this guy’s trunks before he took them off, but his cock hung way to the left. I throated it a couple of times, spoiled him with lavish care for the head, and let him shoot on my tongue as I lapped at his busy pisshole.

The third boy was already in the water with me. He came up behind me and I could feel his cock slipping up and down my spine. Under the circumstances, I didn’t think I could pull the virgin routine with him, not if the Epsilons were sluts and I had to be an Epsilon to be there. Before I could think of an alternative, he was in me. My suit was in the general area (the genital area, ha ha) but certainly not protecting my snoogle.

I couldn’t be a virgin, so I went for slut instead. That blonde called me a slut this afternoon. Maybe I could be a slut. Just sometimes. I was a nice girl for real, but I could play a slut tonight.

I tossed my head and moaned, like a porn star. I made sure the other two got a good look at my tits before I started working my nipples. “Rail that pussy,” I breathed, and then moaned louder, “Use that cock. Use that cock on me. Use that cock in me.”

Blown minutes ago, Blue Trunks was now beating off. His eyes were locked on my… face. It’s moments like that which remind me I’m way hotter than the average bear. Don’t try this at home.

“You better let loose while you’re bottomed out,” I told my fuck partner lovingly. “You better put the cream in my cookie.”

“Oh yeah,” he said, “I’ll cream pie the shit out of you. You sexy bitch, I can’t believe I’m fucking you.”

“Then fuck me harder,” I egged him on. “Harder and faster. Faster and deeper. I’m so wet for you.”

“Aaaauuuugghhh!” he shouted. His body tensed up. One of those guys who freeze when they cum.

I moved gently up and down on him, letting him ride it out.

When he finally flopped down on the bench in the tub, his face looked like his brain had been pulled out through his cock. I was a little afraid he’d slump into the water and drown.

I crooked a finger at Blue Trunks. “Looks like you’re ready again,” I said.

He didn’t waste any time. He sat on the opposite bench, pulled me into his lap, and grabbed me from both sides, just above my waist. He pulled me onto his beast and started jolting me up and down, literally fucking me like a blowup doll. It was amazing. I felt so overwhelmed and useless that it made me so lightheaded that I wondered if I was high.

But then he stood up and moved me over to the side. Pushing me up against the wall of the tub, he slow-stroked me from behind, using nearly his full length each time. Instead of a reacharound, he held me right over a jet, which was all the stimulation my poor clit could handle. His hands were free for other things, and went straight to my bazooms. Instead of pinching or fingering my nipples, he rolled them on his palms.

I was having a very hard time paying attention to my surroundings, but over the sensory roar of his beef polishing the inside of my boycatcher, I did notice girls by the side of the pool. Girls with clothes on.

“Hey,” said somebody. “She got here early. Nice to see you, though.”

“Yeah?” said a girl’s voice. “Who’s this?”

“She’s not with you? She’s an Epsilon.”

“No she’s not.”

“Well then what’s she doing here?”

Another girl cut in. “She’s getting fucked right in front of us.”

“I’m not… getting fucked…” I managed to gasp out.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you bobbing up and down?”

“I’m just… floating in the water.”

“Why is Bobby mauling your tits?”

“He asked if… he could feel my breasts… with his hands… and see what my breasts felt like in his hands.” Finishing that sentence was like those exercises they do with fighter pilots where they have to remember the oxygen deprivation procedure while suffering oxygen deprivation. “So I… I let him… put his hands on my breasts… and feel my breasts with his hands… to see what they felt like in his hands!” Victory.

“Come on,” said the girl, who I could make out as having feathered dirty blonde hair and a weird, designer-looking yellow jacket with a deep cleavage gap down the middle. “I know he’s putting it to you.”

“Okay, we’re fucking,” I groaned, shifting gears, “but there’s no way I’m about to cum.”

I could hear chuckles all around me.

“I’m not gonna cum right now,” I persisted. “He can stop if he likes. I’m not cumming. I’m not cumming. He can pull out. I won’t cum.”

Mercifully, he did not take me at my word.

“I’m not… cumming!” I howled at the top of my lungs. “Oh, it’s so fucking good in my snatch! I’m not cumming at all! Hoh, hoh, hooooh shit… Aaaah! Oh! Oh! Auuuuh! Fuck! So! Good!”

I gathered my wits. Got my breath back. Tits heaving against the water.

“I didn’t come,” I said coolly. “Bobby, could you help me out of the tub?”

There was a lot of whistling and clapping as I made it over the side. Not all of it was from boys. That made me a bit uneasy.

“I’m gonna need my suit back. And could I borrow a towel?”

Yellow Jacket handed me a beach towel. It didn’t really cover me but it would do. One of the original three guys gave me my dripping suit.


“Who are you?” asked Yellow Jacket. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, give me a minute,” I said, sitting on the cooler.

I took everything in, trying to guess when I’d get the use of my legs back. There were a whole bunch more people now, girls and guys. I recognized the place now. Alpha house. Some of the girls seemed familiar too.

There was David’s ex, a buff, tanned girl with dye-red hair. I remembered her sneering a lot when she was with David. Right now she was drinking and laughing over two arm-wrestling frat brothers.

There was that one girl in my geography class who forgot to turn off her cell phone on the first day. She got shouted at, told she’d be dropped a letter grade for the whole course. And there was the guy who’d been on the bus to jury duty with me and hung off the handrail flexing his ceps the whole time.

There was also a real wild card I would have remembered if I’d seen her before. A tall girl with her hair cut as short as a cat’s fur, wearing huge lace-up paratrooper boots, tight leather pants, and a fitted plastic top. There were no words for her face but Final Fantasy. The most perverted Japanese 3D animators could not give as much sharp-edged beauty to the face of their most gorgeous teenage boy.

And there was Blue Trunks, having what looked from the facial expressions like a Serious Conversation with two other frat brothers I hadn’t seen before. His trunks were back on, I’m afraid.

Testing my legs, I decided it was time.

“Whoa,” said Yellow Jacket, “can you walk?”

“Not yet,” I said.

“So where’d you come from?”

“Well, uh, I crashed. I’m really sorry. Can I talk to the Alphas about it?”

“Um,” said Yellow Jacket, “it doesn’t sound like you have anything to be sorry for. But let me get one of the guys over here.”

The instant her back was turned, I dashed for the gate and let myself out. I thought I heard some people shouting, maybe after me. I sprinted north (superhuman of me), turned a quick corner, and kept going.

After a minute I couldn’t keep going and collapsed on the sidewalk, giving my knee a medium-bad scrape.

I rested, dragging myself into the shadow of a shrub in case anyone was looking for me. Then I got up, and walked further north.

There was a fast-food place on the way home. Normally I would not eat a hamburger from there on pain of death, but as the very first food of a very long day, I didn’t feel like I could turn it down. I staggered in, barely keeping the towel around myself, and remembered I had no money.

In uniform behind the counter was a tubby guy, not really my type. There were a couple of girls in a booth at the other end of the place, but they were busy doing something involving a phone. The guy’s eyes were all over me, and I figured it out.

“I’ll bl…” I said, and trailed off. I was too wiped out to blow him. “I’ll show you my tits for a cheeseburger.”

“Okay,” he said immediately. I parted the towel. He stared.

“You’ll see ’em again when I get the burger,” I said, covering up and slumping into a chair.

I think I nodded off. The next thing I remember, he was tapping my shoulder and there was a wrapped-up burger in front of me. Blinking and confused, but remembering my promise, I shrugged off the towel.

Hesitantly, he reached out and touched my nipple. It wasn’t hard.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “Normally I could pay, or at least I’d blow you.” I felt tears gathering again in my tired, stinging eyes.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” I sniffled. “Not tonight, but…”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. Do you want me to call the police?”

“No!” Officer, a girl rubbed me off while I was fucking her boyfriend and I was scared that I liked it too much. Also I crashed a party.

“Okay. Okay. Is there anything I can…”

“No. I just need to eat this and I’ll be fine.”

“You really look like you’ve had a rough night.”

“Just let me eat this. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Just, I’ll just, I’ll be okay, I’ll be fine.”

I rose shakily from the chair and carried my cheeseburger away. I ate it while I walked. I think I ate part of the wrapper too. After a few blocks I felt like maybe I had eaten poison, and after another block I was certain I was going to throw up, but I’d eaten absolutely nothing else that day and I forced myself to keep it down. By the time I got home I didn’t feel like I was going to vomit anymore, but I also felt like I had a pool ball in my stomach.

I managed to stumble up the stairs, naked but for the towel, suit hidden under it in my hand. I told Joe I’d gone swimming and lost my suit in the ocean. He was shocked at my recklessness but not the least bit suspicious. I think he wanted to fuck, but I went straight to bed. I kind of wanted to, but I was too tired and it had been too long a day, especially without food. I hid the suit under my blanket.

I woke up in the middle of the night, opened the gallon jug of water I kept in case of emergencies, and drank an amazing amount of it. Then I went back to sleep.

The next morning, I hit the bathroom early and scoured the last traces of sharpie messages from my palms. I hid the suit with my fake cocks. I cleaned up my knee scrape properly. I walked down to the bagel place and had two bagels. Two! I passed the Alpha house and hung the towel over the gate. On the way back home I stopped at a convenience store, bought a bag of chips, and ate the whole thing. By the time I got back home, I was feeling a bit bloated and uncomfortable, but relieved that yesterday was behind me. It had been crazy.

I slept.

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