My friends and I were intrigued, despite ourselves. This was a guys-only deal, and worse than that, it was jocks only – the football players, the baseball team, the wannabe sports crowd whose entire academic career had been dedicated to one game or another, in the hope that a pro team might pick them up. A couple of the guys had even made it as well, the first year in five that anyone from our school had advanced that far, so they really did have something to celebrate. But again, it was guys-only.
Or was it? A couple of days before the “big night,” Mark Peters cornered me in the cafeteria. A few of the guys, apparently, had been talking… would I be interested in coming along? He rattled off the names of half a dozen other girls who’d already said yes… I knew three of them well, two more by name and one, Lara Oliver, by reputation. Of course they’d want her along, she’d probably slept with half the guys in the school.
I told Mark I’d think about it, then tracked down Brittany, one of the other girls. Did she have any idea what they were planning?
“No,” she laughed. “But I can guess.”
I smiled. “Yeah, so can I….” And I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
The evening started raucously and grew wilder. thirty-three guys, seven girls… you can imagine, right? Well, you’d be wrong. For a start we were all seated, lined up along a single long table, eighteen per side and two, the future football pros, at each end. And every one of them was a gentleman, seating us politely, talking to us quietly, bringing us drinks and filling our plates… it was nothing like I’d expected, in fact it was almost “normal,” as though they were rehearsing for the fast approaching day when they’d be out in the real world, and would have to start getting to know women all over again. And then I noticed Lara’s seat was empty, even though she would have had to squeeze past me to get out from where she was sitting. I puzzled for a moment, then glanced at the look on the face of the guy sitting opposite her and I understood. She was under the table, sucking his cock.
And not just his. The guys on either side of him were getting a piece of the action too, to judge from the looks on their faces. In fact, as I watched, I could tell who was getting the benefit of her mouth, and who was making do with her hands – there’s a look that crosses a guy’s face, or sometimes simply flickers in his eyes, when you know a warm mouth has just wrapped itself over the end of his dick, and Lara was good, a few minutes with one, then she’d move to the other, until all three of them were wound up so tight that any moment now….I caught Britanny’s eye, a few seats down from me; inclined my head towards Lara’s display. She smiled and pulled my eyes further down the table. Beth and Leila had both “vanished” too, and half a dozen guys seated opposite them were wrapped up in the same throes of ecstasy as well. I looked across the table at the guys opposite me… two who I knew, one I’d slept with back when I was a sophomore. I took a sip of wine and then began slipping off my chair towards the floor.
The view beneath the table was surreal. All those legs, and in amongst them… three, four, five crouched female forms. Six… seven… we were all under there now, and there were moments when we’d glance over at each other and, provided our mouths weren’t busy elsewhere, we’d exchange a grin. I unbuttoned the trousers directly opposite me… Lee Baxter, a guy I’d had the hots for back in freshman class, but who was always too wrapped up with a blonde to notice me. Well, he’d notice me now.
No underwear. I unwrapped the cocks on either side of him. None there, either. Somebody had obviously planned this well, but I wasn’t complaining. All three were stiff as boards; I folded my fists around the two on either side of Lee, then licked my tongue up his erection, as it rested against his abdomen. It stood to attention immediately, and my mouth closed around the helmet. Above me, I heard somebody groan.
Have you ever had three cocks in front of you? One in each hand, one in your mouth? There is no sensation like it. Some girls reckon that a cock’s a cock, and that apart from size and sometimes smell, there’s nothing to choose between them. Wrong. Each one felt very different… the heat, the texture, its responses to my touch. And each one tasted different as well… this one’s a little sour, this one’s a little bland – and this one’s just right.
It was Terry, the guy I’d slept with way back when. I’d always remembered him fondly and now I knew why; my mouth closed over him and it felt like going home. Every ridge and vein on his dick burned itself back into my memory and it was all I could do to remember I had two other erections to sort out as well. Reluctantly, I left Terry for a moment and scooted to the guy on the other end, jerked him hard and then sucked even harder. Put all my attention and effort into his prick, and was rewarded with that sudden shift that lets you know a guy’s about to come. I raised my head and jerked some more, felt the hot white spurt across my face, then went back to Terry, one hand now slowly jerking Lee, his neighbor, and one unbuttoning my next prize, the guy on his other side. And he was a treat, big enough that my hand felt tiny… big enough that my mouth could barely fit on him. Shit, sorry Terry, but I’ve found one even better.
How many cocks did I suck that night? Eight… nine if you count the guy who came as soon as my mouth closed over him. Ten, if you count the guy I returned to because his prick felt better than all of them. How much cum did I swallow? Probably not as much as I could have, but more than enough to please my victims. And how good did I feel afterwards? FUCKING WONDERFUL!
Afterwards, with the tables cleared away and everyone milling around, either dancing or talking, I exchanged a few words with Lara. “Did you know this was on the menu?”
She laughed. “Know about it? It was my idea. They have the same fucking bull roast every year, but this year’s special because of Pete and Milan…” our pro ball heroes, of course. “So I thought fuck the bull roast, let’s have a Blow Roast.” Then she extended a finger and wiped an errant glob of cum off my chin. “I love a messy eater,” she said, as she leaned in and kissed me. “I’m doing a sorority tomorrow. Twenty-five girls need their pussies licked, and I could only find three guys who’ll do it. Do you want to help make up the numbers?”
Damn, I really do miss college sometimes
No comments:
Post a Comment