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So I wrote this story on a profile I wound up deleting, but it got a nice response, so I thought I’d repost it. Thanks to M. for the inspiration.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck,” groaned Michelle’s roommate as she padded into the kitchen of their apartment. It was 11 a.m. on a Sunday, long enough for Kelly to have shaken off the worst of the hangover from last night’s party. Michelle, for her part, decided to stay in and study for finals. She had spent most of the morning reviewing her notes on genetics.
“Sounds like you had a good time,” Michelle said.
Michelle took a seat opposite Kelly, with a slumping little bounce that made her breasts jiggle slightly. She was wearing a pink spaghetti-strap tank top reading cuddle slut. “I think I did,” she said, and laughed. “No, seriously, it was good. I didn’t drink all that much, and I did get laid. Matty and I found a spot in the basement in the frat house and went to town. I’m kinda sore there now.” She comically slumped her head on the table. “He’s got a nice big dick, but damn,” she said, muffled.
“Maybe I should’ve gone,” Michelle said. But she didn’t really mean it. She didn’t like frat parties much, but then she wasn’t exactly sure what she liked. She wasn’t a prude—she could go to a party and pound beers, but being drunk left her more in the mood to chat with friends about things she wouldn’t say otherwise, or vent about classes. She wasn’t going to whoop it up and do kegstands. And she wasn’t a virgin, but sex for her had been something of a letdown. Inept pawings in dorm rooms. Handjobs that ended quickly and in sticky messes she was never sure how to handle. The two times she’d had what she’d called sex-sex were with Bobby Ripperton, who was awed by her large breasts once she’d undressed, suckling them like a needy infant, then cumming almost immediately after entering her, apologizing profusely. Being on the pill hardly seemed worth it. Sex too often seemed like a way of helping uncertain men feel OK about their uncertainty.
“I keep telling you, Mich, you need to find the right guy who’ll take care of you. And not, like forever, but…take. Care. Of. You. You have the best rack on campus but you cover it up. Killer legs, too, but you don’t let yourself be sexy. And smart. Seriously, I hate you.” She laughed. “There’s a party Wednesday night—finals-week hump day. Please promise me you’ll go with me.”
Killer legs. Michelle wasn’t sure she’d even had something that would show them off. She preferred loose jeans, like she would wear when she’d go on camping trips with her family. Clothes were for comfort. What was wrong with that?
But getting out of the house would be nice. And it’d be nice to end her school year with her roommate on an up note. “OK,” she said. “I’ll go, but I’m no good at dressing for these things. Please pick something out for me.”
hey hon, how’s finals week going?
ok, I’ll be fine. Looking forward to coming home
can’t wait to have you. It’s quiet around here these days.
i hope you’re not just sitting around moping, dad. Mom left…it’s ok to move on.
don’t worry about me, sweetie. I’m working and getting out there. How about you? Any parties? Dates?
nah, no dates. There’s a party this week I’m going to…Kelly’s going to pick out my outfit.
What do you think she’ll pick?
Knowing her, the shortest skirt and the lowest-cut top lol
Hon, I trust you to be careful. You’re a beautiful young woman…you can take a little pride in that, you know.
So if I told you I wore something like that to a party you wouldn’t be judgey?
I think you’re in college…it’s a time for you to study and have a good time. So have a good time. I don’t judge
Maybe I’ll send you a pic of what I wear…don’t say I didn’t warn you!
Ok, back to studying….love you dad!
Love you, Mich…xoxo
“When does your daughter come home from college?” Helena asked, then went back to sucking Eric’s cock. They were in Eric’s car in the empty parking lot of a forest preserve. Helena, like Eric, was divorced; they each had places of their own. But since meeting online three months earlier, they’d discussed a bucket list of things they wanted to do sexually that they weren’t able to do in their marriages. Semi-public blowjobs were near the top of Helena’s list, and Eric insisted she try it. She was nervous at first, but now she’d pulled her workout top up, exposing a sports bra that pushed her full tits together. Sucking Eric in the front seat was everything she’d hoped it would be—illicit and a little like being on a stage. She wanted to slide her hand under her yoga shorts and give her pulsing clit some attention. But she also loved caressing Eric’s tight balls, his superb uncut shaft.
Helena’s mouth was so deliciously full of his cock, kaynarca escort her tongue so expertly and wetly working his cockhead, that Eric needed a moment to answer. Caressing her short dirty-blonde hair, tugging it a little, he finally got it out: “Saturday. Picking her up at the airport on Saturday.”
“Think that’s enough time to get the sex smell out of this SUV?” Helena asked, kissing his shaft down to the balls. They’d fucked in the back seat two days earlier.
“I’m not sure she’d notice… Mich always has her head in a book. I encouraged her to go to a party this week, let off some steam.”
“I always had the best time at finals week parties…made me the blowjob queen you see here today.” She went back to sucking, as if to prove the point.
“Are you saying I should let my daughter be a blowjob queen?” He chuckled.
Helena made her voice girlish and sticky-sweet. “Daddy, I just love sucking big cocks,” she purred, licking his shaft, then giving it three deep bobbing sucks. “And I love daddy’s big cock most of all.”
“Shhhhhhhhhh,” Eric said, guiding her mouth back onto his cock. He didn’t want to hear any more. But he kept hearing that teasing, needy voice in his head. Daddy, I want it. Daddy, give me your big dick. Daddy, I want all of your cum. Fuck me, daddy.
Eric tensed and groaned, cumming powerfully into Helena’s hot and greedy mouth. She responded by clutching his thighs as she worked to get as much of his load into her mouth as possible. He clutched her hair tighter, loving the feeling of, for a moment, owning Helena, claiming her. Eventually he let go of his cock and sat up.
“Was I a good girl, daddy?” she asked. A smear of cum spattered her chin.
“The very best, sweetie,” he replied. He wanted to give her a don’t-push-it look, but he didn’t quite have it in him. What she’d done and what he did back felt too good.
Michelle had to admit she liked it. Kelly had gone thrift shopping and found something that felt sexy and comfortable for the party. A tight pair of denim cutoffs that weren’t exactly Daisy Dukes but still rode high on her ass, and a faux-vintage T-shirt in bright orange that paid tribute to “West Texas H.S. Lady Broncos—Buck Yeah!” The shirt’s illustration showed a cowgirl atop a horse reared back on its hind legs. It rode tight across her chest. “I got it one size too small,” Kelly said, as Michelle modeled it. “Have fun, you big-tit bitch,” she giggled.
A pair of wedge espadrilles completed the look. Funnily, Kelly went relatively conservative, opting for a pretty but conventional Little Black Dress. Ten minutes before they left the apartment, Michelle went into her room and took a selfie in the full-length mirror. She felt she looked too slouchy in the first pic, unglamorous, as if she were in a dressing room. She tried again, turning at an angle, arching her shoulders back and her chest out, smiling. Perfect.
Hi dad. Here’s the outfit….Kelly picked it out…
Wow, I’m speechless. You look great, hon.
You sure? Not my usual thing.
Make it your new usual. You’ll knock em dead at the party. Don’t get in too much trouble…
Maybe a little?
Just a little. A teensy bit. 😊
OK…I’m glad you liked the outfit, dad…
Text me when you get home…I want to make sure you got home OK
Michelle could feel the eyes on her from the moment she walked inside the frat house with Kelly. Her mother, who was just as busty and tended toward loose dresses, dissuaded her from flaunting herself as soon as she began to develop. Guys who look at you like that aren’t looking at you, she’d said. But, thinking of her father’s appreciation of her selfie, she thought that she didn’t want her body partitioned, broken up into what could or couldn’t be appreciated. No, she didn’t want to be ogled and leered at. But jostling her way toward the rear ballroom, holding Kelly’s hand as she led her to the table where rum and Cokes were being poured into red Solo cups, she felt the eyes on her and thought only that, right now, she was being seen.
One drink led to two as she chatted with Kelly and other men and women who swam in and out of their circle. As she picked up her third drink, Michelle began exploring. In one room, she saw a blacklit room where a group of people were passing a bong around. In one corner, she eyed a couple eagerly making out. The same in another corner, though this time she recognized Kelly, her legs eagerly wrapped around a man whose hands were under her skirt. Were they fucking? It was so hard to tell in the half-light, and the music seemed to make things feel even dimmer. But in her tipsiness, she was proud of her friend. Good for you, Kell, she thought.
Eventually he made her way to the back porch, which was quieter and where a handful of men and women were drinking and smoking. Michelle orhanlı escort occasionally smoked at parties, and she saw one of her classmates from Intro to Genetics leaning over a railing with a cigarette in his hand. He was slim, clean-shaven, with boyish mussed hair and bright eyes. Gus.
“Can I bum one of those off you?” she said to Gus, joining him at the railing, leaning her chest forward with purpose.
He turned and looked stunned, though that was mostly him being half-drunk. But he didn’t seem used to women coming up to him like that, and he took her in. Eyes, breasts, smile, breasts, hips, eyes. “Of course,” he said, fishing in his pocket. “Melissa, right?”
“Michelle, shit, I’m sorry. Here you go.” He handed her the cigarette and lit it for her. She warmed to this small chivalrous gesture.
They pulled on their cigarettes. However awful cigarettes were, she loved smoking when she did it, like she was giving her very breath something visible, a shape.
“I didn’t know you were from Texas,” he said. When she looked at him curiously, he said, “Your shirt. West Texas High School.”
“Oh,” she said, looking down at her chest as if to confirm it was there. She was getting drunk. “That’s not me. I mean, it’s not a real T-shirt. This is just for show.”
“It’s a nice show.”
She laughed, punched his arm playfully. She thought about dismissing his comment, but then: “I’m glad you appreciate it.”
Maybe a little trouble, dad? Just a teensy bit, Mich.
Small talk led to making out. Making out led to Gus mentioning that he had a room upstairs. Michelle’s body was tingling, eager for something, but she wasn’t sure what. Her breasts were full and her nipples hard, but she didn’t want to be pawed and sucked. Her pussy pulsed with a need that radiated to her hips, practically made an aura around her—Michelle fleetingly thought that people could see it, smell it—but she felt like fucking wasn’t going to be quite right. Certain of nothing except that Gus’ room promised some kind of release, she let him lead her upstairs. In the corner of the staircase landing was equipment from repair work. Toolbox, sanding blocks, kneepads.
They kissed again once they were inside his room, but Gus was slow, timid, a little drunkenly sloppy. Michelle was craving somebody who could clarify the need inside her, and satisfy it, but she was feeling that maybe Gus wasn’t up to the job. Why couldn’t he be like the man who was maybe-fucking Kelly downstairs, grabbing her with a manly certainty? Running her hand over his crotch, she could feel his hardness, loved the insistent firmness of it. He wanted Gus to tell her who she was right now, which was a pretty young girl who craved cock. Needed it. Not forever. Not as a part of her personality. But right now. Let me have it. Please.
“Take me,” she whispered in his ear.
“T-take?” Gus sputtered. His hands rested on her hips, as if paralyzed. The request seemed to baffle him.
Enough. If she wanted to be taken, claimed, she’d have to start by doing some claiming herself. Pressing him against the door, she slipped to her knees, letting her chest graze his body on the way down. He pressed a hand against his belly, firm and quivering slightly, then unbuckled and unzipped him. Slipping his cock out of his underwear, she felt a giddy pleasure of ownership. She stroked his thick cock gently, watched a clear and full bead of precum grow and then drip to the floor. Bad girl, should have caught that with my tongue, she thought, her buzz and horniness merging.
She began sucking him, loving his cock but disappointed in his statuelike posture. She wanted the thrust of his hips, the feeling of a man unshackling himself, taking. Now she was a little clearer on what she wanted—to be possessed fully. To be fully fucked, without thinking, but enjoying the bliss of being cared for by a man who knew how to fully fuck.
“Fuck my face, Gus,” she groaned, after removing her lips from his cock with a wet, lurid pop.
“Oh, god, Melissa, I’ve never…”
Fuck it, she thought, and began stroking his cock fervently, pumping it, as if she was trying to extract his masculinity as much as his cum. Maybe getting the former wasn’t possible, this night. But his cum would be a decent consolation prize.
Gus groaned and quaked, then stiffened his body—a signal, she knew, that he was about to shoot. But where? She didn’t want him in her mouth, or not just in her mouth—her need was bigger than that. But there was no time to think, so when he came, copiously, it was all over. A rope of cum across her face, then another, coating her forehead, nose, and hair. Another on her chin and neck. And a final proud and thick spume onto her chest, pleasantly spoiling her too-tight top.
Michelle rested back on her haunches, ran a finger over her face, delighting in the stickiness of Gus’ tepeören escort cum, the sheer amount of it. She tipsily, almost reflexively, moved the cum to her mouth. It was already cooling on her tongue.
“Damn,” Gus groaned, still standing, his cock half-erect. He looked at her incredulously. “I’m sorry, I should have….”
“Shhhhhh,” she said, getting up, assessing herself, feeling the cum on her forehead and neck, putting it to her lips, rubbing her hands clean on her tight denim shorts. “That was fun, hot.” She looked at him: Not good enough. “Hey, can I use your bathroom?” He nodded, cowlike.
She observed herself in the bathroom mirror. There were smears of cum she missed on her face, dollops in her hair that would be impossible to get out without a shower. She licked her lips in the mirror, then unbuttoned her shorts, slid her recently cum-sticky fingers under her panties, fingered her clit with a hot insistence. A teensy bit, a teensy bit, a teensy bit. When she came, she bucked against the sink, knocking over his toothpaste and a can of shaving cream.
Not bothering to clean up, she zipped her shorts with cummy fingers and exited the bathroom. She told Gus he was very sweet and fantastic—true, but also not quite the truth. She kissed him and told him she needed to find her friend, leaving before he could say anything awful like, Where are you going for the summer? Or Can I call you?
She found Kelly near the front door, smiling but also plainly drunk. She leaned on Michelle, hugged her, then looked back at her, smiling.
“Got a little something in your hair, Mich,” she said, laughing.
“Jizzy hair, don’t care,” she said, and giggled. “Let’s go.”
When they stumbled back into the apartment, they were both feeling exhausted. There were still two more days of exams. But before she went to bed, Michelle stood in front of the mirror again. Her hair was no longer obviously cum-spattered, but it was disheveled, mussed. Her T-shirt had collected stains—cum, alcohol, cigarette ash—that were hard to ignore on a shirt as bright orange as a construction sign. It ran tight under and around her tits. And she’d noticed only just now that she’d neglected to button her shorts. With her belly poking out from under her tight shirt and unbuttoned pants, she felt that she looked sexy and carefree, like she was free and that her body was the kind that could be taken, if only the right man knew how to take it.
She took another selfie, and before she could think about it too hard, sent it to her father.
I made it home safe dad, she texted. See?
“And how does that feel?” asked Eric, sliding two fingers into Helena’s asshole.
Helena groaned with pleasure and lifted her hips up from the bed to better feel him penetrate her. Helena wasn’t an anal virgin, but this was necessary for one of the items that was on her bucket list. She’d had all the lubes and toys arrayed for Eric as he arrived at her house. No small talk—she knew what she wanted this time, and she’d told him. He hardly had to say a word, just stripped her and lay her on the bed and lubed her well-toned ass until she was ready for one finger, two…
“Three?” he asked.
“Yessssssss,” she groaned, and he happily slipped a third finger in her ass, loving the obscene schlick sound of him sliding in and out of her tight but increasingly giving ass. “Put it innnnnn,” she said.
It was a thick purple butt plug, which Eric slathered in more lube and inserted in his girlfriend. Slowly, but insistent, caressing her ass to let her know he had her. Helena exhaled and bucked slightly on the bed, allowing the toy to better fill her. Sticky lube was on her sheets, mixing with the wetness from her pussy.
“Turn around,” Eric commanded. “I think you’re about ready.”
“I’ve been ready, sweetheart,” she cooed. Now on her back, she’d spread her legs, offering him her slick and swollen pussy, neatly trimmed. She fingered her clit and opened her labia for him, looking at him with lust-filled eyes. “Please don’t make me wait for this, beautiful.”
Eric smirked, but didn’t move for a second. He wanted to look at this, lock it into his memory. This beautifully game woman with an eager pussy and an equally eager ass. Now they’d be taken care of at the same time. DP. It was on her list.
As his thick cock began to enter her, they both got an ecstatic charge from the resistance, the tightness. Filling both her ass and pussy was legitimately filling, and it was a sensation of tightness he’d never experienced before, an excitement he hadn’t felt since the first time he’d successfully fucked a woman. Helena moved gently, still adjusting to the delectable feeling of being—there was no better word for it—stuffed. But as she began to relax and groan, Eric became more comfortable fucking her the way he’d been used to—firmly, with force and focus, a steady rhythm that he maintained no matter how she bucked and flailed. It’s what she loved best about fucking him. No matter how she succumbed to orgasm after orgasm, Eric’s cock was so reliably there, available to her pussy at her neediest.
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