“For heaven’s sake, I have to leave in twenty minutes.”
“I won’t take that long.” Mark laughed and he brushed the fat, warm head of his cock against my cheek. Smiling inside, but doing my best to appear disapproving, I leaned back in my seat and swatted it away with a gentle slap. But my eyes were on the mirror in front of me... where I had been doing my make-up... and I knew I wouldn’t be resisting for long.
So did Mark. He stepped forward; now he was touching my mouth, and my lips were already parting around him. Twenty minutes? Naaah, we don’t have to leave for at least half an hour. I raised my eyes to stare into his, then slowly engulfed his cock in my mouth.
I’ll admit it - in case you haven’t already guessed. I love sucking cock. Have done, from the moment I discovered that such a thing was even possible... and probably before that even. It’s a gradual process, you start with your thumb, move up to pencils, advance to cigarettes and then wake up one morning flushed and sopping from a dream in which there was a cock in your mouth. Well, that’s how it happened for me, anyway.
And Mark... Mark was one of those rare guys who I have to say was several dreams come true. He moved right. He held my head instead of forcing it down. he twisted my hair instead of ripping it out. And when he started to thrust, he moved with my movements. At least until we reached that point where both of our bodies were screaming for his orgasm, and then he could fuck my face off. And if it wasn’t for the fact that he was dating that girl down the hall....
Oops. I shouldn’t have said that, should I? Or maybe I should. Who cares? Yeah, he’s taken, and normally that would have kept him off limits. But a drunken night in study hall led a few of us back to my dorm room around two. And when the others drifted away, he stuck around. His girl was off campus, working late at a bar - he wouldn’t be seeing her till the party tonight. So he stayed over and I can honestly say. Getting drunk on wine is fun. But getting drunk on cum is even better.
He was right. He wouldn’t take long. He came; not much more than dribble now, and I raised my face and pulled him down to kiss him on the lips. I don’t know if he likes the taste of his own mess, but he didn’t object to it last night and for me, it’s the natural thing to do. Then I straightened my hair and got back to my make-up, while he lay back on the bed with a silly grin on his face. I hope he loses it before he meets up with his girl.
March 15. Today is March 15 and there’s a bunch of reasons why I have always remembered it. For starters, it’s my best friend Suzie’s birthday. We met at pre-school were inseparable through High, and when we both wound up at state college together, we carried on just as before. So it’s her birthday, and it’s her party we’re going to. And now I’m ready, and he’s still lying there, so I grab his hand and pull him up, wipe a spot of his jizz off his chin with one finger (why are guys such messy eaters? Although I didn’t care about that last night, with his tongue jammed deep in my cunt) and we’re off.
A kiss behind closed doors because it’s the last time we’ll be touching for the foreseeable future, and we walk to separate parking lots to our cars. Because Suzie’s doing this with style. No lame-ass party in a dorm room or two. She’s booked the back room at the inn two towns over, and there’s a bunch of bedrooms been reserved as well. Just in case.
College parties. If you’ve ever attended one, you know exactly what it’s like in here. And if you haven’t, then I hope you’ve seen Animal House. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. But not through want of trying.
I was there early, to help Suzie set up; Mark’s girlfriend was there as well, and I watched as they hugged, kissing and giggling, and hoped I hadn’t tired him out too much. She’s a mousey looking thing, but I’ve been called that too, and I bet she can be a hellcat in bed. I silently wished him luck, then got on with all the things that needed to be done.
Okay, I want to make three things clear to you right now.
One: I did not go out with the express intention of getting inside someone else’s pants. My motto has always been, if it happens it happens, and if it doesn’t I’ll take a book to bed. Some girls (and most guys) really seem to sweat it if they’ve not found true love within an hour or two of walking into a party. I don’t even think about it.
Two: I am picky. Very, very picky.
And three: If anyone tells you they saw me blowing the barman behind the bar, while he was very appropriately mixing cocktails, they’re lying. I was under the sink, behind that little curtain, invisible even to him. Which is not to say nobody watched me climb under there, or saw me when I emerged. But while I was down there... and boy, was I down there!
Derek was a joker, see. And a flirt. The whole time I was sitting at the bar, whenever he had a moment free, he’d come over and we’d pass a few words - which, as the evening wore on, and things warmed up elsewhere, started to raise the temperature themselves. There’s something about being in a room full of horny sophomore boys, all pawing or hoping to paw freshman girls (or vice versa) that can twist the most innocent conversation down some very strange paths, but the clincher came when a ratty looking blonde slammed herself against the bar, let out a sigh that was all the more annoying for its exaggerated qualities, and demanded loudly “what do I have to to get a cocktail round here?”
“Deep throat Derek,” I blurted without even thinking. He burst out laughing, she stormed off in disgust, and from that moment on, I think we knew precisely what was going to happen. Or, if we didn’t, he clinched it the moment I asked for a White Russian, and he offered me a White American instead... then recommended a creme de menthe (“without the ‘thhh’ sound”) chaser. Creme de men. My favorite.
It’s weird doing that in such a public place. But it must have been even weirder for him, fending off orders for any drink that he couldn’t reach from where he was standing, and taking inordinate amounts of time just pouring the simplest drink. When he started shaking a cocktail, though... and let me tell you, his cock was shaking with it... I don’t think I’d have traded places with anyone.
He came and it was incredible. No warning, no tell-tale twitching or heat. Just the sudden sense that my mouth was full to bursting, and I had to open my lips round his prick just to release the pressure. One hand under my chin to catch the overflow (I wiped it on the curtain... I still had too much to swallow to even thinking of licking it up), the other pumping the last spurts out of him, then suckling him as he softened - and all the way, he just kept on pouring drinks and taking cash, and I’d have loved to have seen his face at that moment.
I wiped my mouth with a napkin he passed down to me; buttoned his pants and emerged from my hideaway. We swapped telephone numbers, then I slipped away with a smile of my own. “Guess I’d better go mingle with the mob.”
Suzie saw me as I stepped out from behind the bar and nodded towards Derek. “He’s cute. I saw you talking.”
I nodded. “Yeah, maybe we’ll see each other over the weekend.” Very cool, very non committal. Very happy. He’d be going off duty in about half an hour and it was a shame he couldn’t stay and enjoy the party. But he had things to do, and he’d already been done... I flopped down on what had once been a very formal sofa, but which had definitely seen better days, and watched as a guy from my film class made his way over.
Paul was.... Okay, Paul was seriously cute. He could be a dick when he wanted to, which was surprisingly often, but he and I had always got on well. We’d even dated a little, back in our own freshman year, and we still had that casual, easy attitude towards one another that you sometimes see between ex-lovers who only gently drifted apart. Plus, he called me Princess, and I’ve always liked that.
I think you can guess what happened next?
Let me tell you about the Park Inn. It’s old, a hundred or so years, and it was obviously designed with its proximity to the state college in mind. Because even the biggest, brightest, blandest room is packed with dark corners, booths and screens. The kind of places where anything could happen and, over the past century, probably had. This couch, for example. It was against the back wall, but there was a low wooden wall on either side of it, and a kind of raised dais in front of it. Add two blown lightbulbs and the shadow of a staircase, and you needed to be right on top of it to make out more than the shapes of whoever was sitting there. I know, because Suzie once cowgirled her boyfriend there without even me knowing what she was up to. And I should have, because she’d told me precisely what she intended doing just before they walked over there.
So, when Paul leaned over to deliver a beery kiss, and followed it up a few moments later by pressing himself so firmly against my leg that I could feel his cock flexing beneath his cotton pants, it didn’t take a genius to work out what he wanted. On my knees in front of him, licking his length like a lollipop... that’s one of the things I really liked about Paul. He didn’t need his cock sucked or fucked like most guys. He wanted to have it worshipped.
Smothered in kisses, bathed with tongue, nibbled and nuzzled and sometimes... to be honest, my jaw was ever so slightly tired after Derek, so it was nice to just be able to relax. To make a fuss of him, play little games with the tip of my tongue. Suck a ball in and tickle the other. All those tiny things that most guys consider are just a prelude to a long hard sucking, those are the ones that Paul wanted the most. Because he’d tell me when he wanted more, and it really didn’t seem long before he did... “now!” his voice was an urgent gasp. “Suck it!”
I took him into my mouth and he came instantly; thick and heavy, tinged with the bitterness of an evening spent drinking, but still that familiar Paul taste that I’d loved when we were dating. And he had a good memory too, because then his hand was on my chin, raising me up for the kiss, his tongue greedy as mine ladled cum into his mouth, and we held one another as we swallowed, and wondered why we didn’t do this sort of thing more often.
It was late. Two-ish. Nearly two-thirty. I thought about driving back to college but I was way over the limit and the cops round here are harsh. They have a sixth sense for any occasion where kids and alcohol might get together, and while we’re lucky to be in one of that select handful of states that permit under-age drinking with parental permission (Texas, I love you!), the local cops took their other responsibilities very seriously indeed. There’d be a checkpoint on every road back to campus.
I found Suzie in the arms of a guy I didn’t recognize; hovered for a moment while she extracted his tongue from her throat. “I’m going to take one of the rooms, I think.” My credit card would protest, but it was cheaper than a fine and points on my license.
“Or you can crash in the conference room upstairs, if you like. A bunch of us are. Management said it would be fine, so long as we don’t leave it in a mess.” Which was Suzie-code for asking me to help her pick the place up in the morning. “Okay... I’ll see you up there.”
A darkened room lit by a few low yellow bulbs. I picked my way over the bodies that were already spread out across the floor... most of which were either having, preparing for, or recovering from sex, from the sound of things. Found at least a reasonably clear spot at the back, and spread out my coat as a mattress of sorts. I doubted I’d sleep, but I was beginning to drift - which was why I was startled when I opened my eyes and sensed, more than saw, another body lying just a foot away from mine. I’d not even heard them settle down.
I shifted a little, trying to get comfortable, and a voice whispered “hi.” “Hi,” I said back. I didn’t recognize him, but that was no surprise; like any college party, a lot more people turned up than you ever thought of inviting, and most of them were absolute strangers.
A groan cut through the air and the same voice chuckled. “Sounds like someone’s having fun.”
“Yes, but what sort?” I replied, and I felt him shift a little closer... not so much that any part of us was touching, but definitely enough that I could feel his warmth. Which was not unwelcome - the night was cold outside, and obliging though the inn staff were, they’d not exactly cranked up the heat.
My companion read my mind. “Chilly, isn’t it.”
“I wish I’d thought to bring a blanket.”
“Here...it’s not much, but it might help.” He moved closer and now we were touching, as he drew what I guessed was his raincoat over us. An arm draped itself tentatively around me, and I snuggled close to him. I felt his lips graze the top of my head, and slipped an arm under his, clasping his back as he shifted and aimed a kiss at my lips. He missed, but I moved my head just enough and now our lips met, open and curious.
He tasted of wine and tobacco... I wonder what I tasted of to him? Can a man taste another guy’s cock on a girl? Another... my heart skipped as I thought of it. Another three guys’ cocks? He didn’t seem to mind if he could, pushing against me, rolling me back, taking control....
He was slim, sort haired, that much I could tell. But everything else was in darkness, and I wondered what I’d be thinking in the morning. Or what he would? I already told you I was picky... I can honestly say that I had never woken up in the morning and wondered what the fuck I was thinking when I brought home the creature that was sleeping beside me. Not even when drunk. Not even when horribly drunk.
I hoped tonight would not shatter that proud record.
His hands were on my breasts, his knee between my legs, gently rocking. I scrabbled at his shirt, raising it to run fingers down his bare back as he bit gently into my neck, then started tugging at the buttons of my blouse. I felt one fly off and shifted him a little, unbuttoning it myself then removing my bra myself. His mouth was on my nipple in a moment, sucking me in, filling me with that indescribable sensation where every nerve end is suddenly plugged into a light socket. I wondered if he could feel my pussy growing wetter through the layers of clothing that lay between it and his leg, and again he seemed to read my mind, as a hand slipped down to stroke it, then to wrestle with my panties.
I raised my ass and he tugged them down... not all the way, but I’d fix that later. A finger slipped inside me and I bit his shoulder; none too expertly but fuck, I wasn’t complaining, he began finger fucking me, jolting me with every inward thrust, thrilling me with every slow withdrawal. I wondered what his mouth would feel like, his tongue on my lips before teasing my clit, parting me wide to taste my inside.
But not yet.
He was unbuckling his belt, shimmying out his pants. I whipped off my panties and my skirt as well, then reached for his cock. It felt good in my hand, semi-soft and squeezable, but I knew how to fix that. “Roll over,” I whispered and pushed against him; he gasped and obeyed and I shifted around, wrapping my mouth around him, thrilling at the weight of his prick. He was big... bigger than any of the cocks I’d already sucked this evening; bigger, I thought, than most I’d ever had. And he was still growing. I couldn’t wait to find out what he’d be like at the end.
In my mind, I pictured him lying back, eyes closed, smiling. His breath came in soft, drawn out gasps that matched the bobbing of my head, up and down on a cock that I could barely get my jaw... yes, my now sore and protesting jaw... round. My hand was wrapped tightly around him, my pinkie in his pubes, and my goal was to reach my thumb with my lips. But he was too big for that... too long, and so strong. As his cock flexed in my mouth, my head moved with it, and I wondered what it would be like to be fucked by such a monster. I could almost feel my cervix wince at the thought. A very happy, “give it to me” wince....
But not to me.
His voice was a low whisper, as though his head were turned away from me. But I distinctly heard every word.
“She’s sucking my cock.”
Another voice, this one so quiet that I could not make out what it said, beyond the fact that it was another guy. Then a quiet laugh from ... it’ so weird when you’re having sex with someone, and you don’t even know their name. With apologies to any Sex and the City fans out there, let’s call him Big. A quiet laugh from Big, and a hissed “fucking amazing.”
Oh good. At least he’s enjoying it.
My jaw needed a rest; I started to lick him, noisily slurping around his shaft, the tip of my tongue on the crest of his helmet, dipping down to devour his balls... all the tricks that Paul liked so much, but with so much bigger a playground in which to play. And then a darkness in the darkness beside my face, as though someone else had risen up alongside Mr Big... and my cheek brushed fresh flesh, hard flesh... either Big has just grown another cock, or his buddy has decided to gatecrash the party.
Okay. But I’m not going to do all the work on my own.
I swung around, planted my pussy over Big’s face, and felt his hands clasp my ass and pull me down. His tongue felt as long as his cock, deep inside me, and now his buddy had moved as well and it was his cock that I was sucking while my hand jerked Mr Big. A smaller cock... a lot smaller, actually, although it would probably have seemed nicely average on its own. I wondered if its owner knew I was comparing dicks while I sucked on them? Mr Big’s fascinated me... like an intractable riddle or unsolvable puzzle, how do I get the whole thing in my mouth? His buddy’s just soothed me, his hips rocking back and forth and his cock slipping gracefully in and out of my mouth.
I found a rhythm. A few moments with Big, till my jaw felt like popping, then a few with his friend, to relax the thing back.
Back and forth, back and forth, while Big’s mouth worked wonders on my hot dripping cunt, brushing my clitoris till I hung on the edge, then inching away to leave me screaming for more, while my hands blurred on two cocks and my mouth flew between them, sensing that both were as close as I was and not wanting to miss a drop from either....
I came. They came. All three together, all three surely waking anyone who by now had fallen asleep as my muffled cry rose from around whichever cock I had deep in my throat - because right then, I didn’t have a clue; and their voices blurred into a groan and a gasp and a cry of “fuck” that made me laugh, even as I moved my mouth to the other dick to suck the last drops out.
And then we collapsed, the three of us together, one on either side of me, and we slept the sleep of the thoroughly fucked... until morning broke and people started moving, grabbing their stuff and creeping out of the conference room... and there was enough light to see who I’d spent these few hours with. And both had already gone.
I guess I can say my record is still intact, then.
I was back at my dorm room by ten, the inn restored to at least a state that wouldn’t have the manager screaming in rage on Suzie’s phone, and by noon I was sat at the diner, picking at a salad and draining down the coffee, wondering if any of the friends who were shaking off their hangovers at all the other tables could tell from my face what I did last night.
How I sucked five cocks... five very different cocks... in under twelve hours? How my tummy felt so full from cum that even the salad felt like a three course meal. And now even I wasn’t certain just how I felt about it, whether I was proud of myself for hitting such heights? Or shocked that I’d been such a cum-hungry slut?
I was still pondering that as I lit a cigarette, and watched as Jerry sat down at my table. Jerry, who’d been my fuck buddy for the past two semesters. Jerry, who I only ever saw when he was horny and hot. Jerry, who once told me I was the greatest cocksucker in the world, and who always challenged me to prove that I still deserved that compliment.
I rubbed my jaw as I looked at him, and silently apologized to that poor, aching joint. But six is</> a nice round number....