Confessions of a Cum Slut Pt. 3-5
Introduction:
Hi. My name is Cindy and I’m a cum slut.
You know what’s weird? When you go from being a senior in high school—totally chill, biggest fish in the pond, wise and sophisticated—to being a freshman in college—totally lost, insecure, minnow in a big, strange ocean. People treat you like you’re twelve years old, and you kind of feel that way. That’s sure how I felt, anyway.
Add in that I was an 18-year-old virgin, maybe a lesbian, and a cum slut who got off sucking anonymous dicks in a glory hole, and weird was too feeble a word to describe it.
I didn’t feel like I could tell anybody who I really was. I wasn’t sure I even knew. I just knew that I liked girls in a not-quite-normal way, that I needed a dick in my mouth to climax while touching myself, that I was a full-on cock worshipping cum slut, and that I thought guys were mostly dorks. Weird squared, right?
Luckily, I got into a school that my parents could almost afford, and that was liberal as all shit. So when we signed up for dorms (first year students had to live in a dorm) we had three choices: Male, Female, and Gender-Neutral / Transgender. I read the description of G-N/T, and it sounded more like Totally Confused to me.
But hey, that was me all over. So I signed up for the G/N-T dorm, ordered the LGBLT lunch special from the GNT Cafe, and checked the No Preference box for desired room mate gender. I knew I liked girls, and I knew I liked dicks, so either way, right? Besides, I figured if a guy thought of himself as at least part girl he probably wasn’t a dork.
I was only half right. All college-age males are dorks, but transgender guys are only part male, hence only part dork.
Anyway it turned out that most of the students in my dorm were actually either gender normal or gender just-slightly-confused; they just thought it was cool and PC to declare as G-N/T. Go figure. There didn’t seem to be anybody like me.
But in a way I lucked out: my room mate Lonni was a keeper. I liked her right away. She was more pretty than beautiful, with pert, bouncy tits, nice skin, and a great sense of humor. Plus she had that self assurance I was drawn to in girls. She was a funny mixture—part very girly-girl feminine: legs shaved (everything shaved, as far as I could tell), makeup, lacy blouses and heels; but part tomboy: blunt speaking, funny in a crude way sometimes, and physically assertive.
Lonni could tell I liked her, and she took me under her wing as a project—sort of an ugly duckling that she was confident she could make into a swan. I was part of her entourage. Actually I was her whole entourage, but she acted as if the rest of her following had just stepped out. She gave me the benefit of her advice, which were more-or-less marching orders for me, and she had me do little things for her: paint her fingernails, French-braid her hair… a lot like Linda Sue, now that I think of it, but nicer. I didn’t ask about her sexual orientation because I wasn’t sure of my own. I wouldn’t know how to answer my own question.
In fact, my sex life had become hypothetical. I was focusing on my classes, ignoring the yearning between my legs as much as possible. There was no sense masturbating without a cock to suck, at least for me, and I was too busy adapting to my new life to go out cock-hunting, so I just did without. But the pressure was building.
I was shy, and I pretty much kept my past to myself, even from my room mate Lonni.
But then one Friday night Lonni smuggled a bottle of vanilla vodka into our dorm room and the two of us got demurely, girlishly, falling-over wasted. She opened up and told me about her abusive father and her embarrassing crush on her scout troop leader, who turned out to be a friend of her mother’s. She cried and I cried for her. We got feeling all cozy and kind of held hands, and I got a little tingly, and it got kind of awkward, and she flat out asked me about my sexual orientation.
I didn’t know what to say, so I spilled everything. Everything. Told her my whole story.
She seemed interested and sympathetic about my submissive lesbian sex-slave phase with Linda-Sue, outraged about the way Linda Sue had used me as a cum receptacle for her boyfriend, stunned–but I think a little impressed—with my brief reign as queen Cindy of the downtown glory hole, and fascinated by my need for a cock in my mouth to successfully reach a climax while playing with myself.
“But what about fucking?” she asked with alcohol-enhanced bluntness. “Can you cum with a cock in your pussy, or with a girl eating you out?”
“I don’t really know, Lonni. I’m… I’m still a virgin. I’ve never had a cock in my pussy, only in my mouth, and the eating was strictly in one direction with Linda Sue.”
“That bitch! What a waste.” She put her hand on my knee. “I would have eaten you in a heartbeat, Cindy, if you had had a crush on me.”
“You would have? Really?”
“Cross my heart. I wouldn’t leave you swinging in the breeze if you were sweet on me and I let you hang around and do things for me.”
I crossed my legs, squirming a little. “Lonni? I do… sort of have a… a crush on you.”
“Well of course you do. Who wouldn’t?” she offered breezily.
“And you do let me do things for you. Not sex things, but…”
Lonni sobered a bit. “I do let you do things for me, don’t I? And you would do… sex things, for me, if I asked, wouldn’t you, little Cindy?”
“I’d, I’d like to, Lonni. If you wanted.”
“First things first, child. You haven’t cum in how long?”
“Since a month before school started.”
Lonni moved her tongue around in her mouth, trying to work out the vodka numbness. “Stand up,” she said.
I stood.
“Take your pants off.”
I complied. This felt familiar. I liked it.
“Panties, too. And your top.”
I wasn’t wearing a bra. My tits are small and I like to let them breathe. I stood there naked, waiting for Lonni to tell me what to do next. My pussy began to tingle in a good, good way.
“Sweet thing, you are too submissive for your own good. Fortunately, I have your best interests at heart. Now sit down on the bed, lean back with your feet on the floor, and spread your legs. I’m going to eat you all up. We’ll see if you can cum with another girl’s tongue on your clit, even with no cock to suck.”
I was so happy I almost cried. Lonni was going to help me find out who I was. I hoped I was a lesbian. I wanted Lonni to have the pleasure of making me cum with her mouth, the same pleasure I got from making a cock cum in mine. And I wanted the sweet release of an orgasm, right now. I wanted to cum so bad, I would try just about anything. So I laid back, opened my legs, closed my eyes, and let the vodka make the room spin. Lonni knelt on the carpet by the side of my bed, between my thighs.
She ran her tongue around my pussy lips, making me gasp with pleasure. This was new, and thrilling. I felt her fingers spread my lips. Her tongue circled and probed my virgin pleasure hole. It felt so good. Her tongue was warm and wet and alive, tasting me, touching me, licking me, penetrating me. She licked her way up my seam, from my now wet pussy hole up to my love button, my clitoris. I had only recently discovered that my clit wasn’t just a button, that it had a shaft, a hood, and a head. Lonni knew me better than I knew myself.
Her expert tongue slid languidly up the left side of my clit, between the hood and the shaft, probed firmly over the the top of the hood, rubbing it against my tip in a fantastic way, then quickly lapped down my right side, her tongue alternately brushing the hood against my clit and then slipping inside the hood to tongue my shaft directly. She flicked her tongue left and right across the face of my shaft from the base up to the tip, flicking my tip ever so gently, giving me a stab of sudden pleasure.
She sighed with satisfaction at my responses and lowered her tongue to my moist, seeping canal again, licking the slippery dew from my twat up over my clitoris, basting my tender nub in my own juices, again and again. I let out a slow, satisfied groan. This was exceeding all expectations.
Oh, could Lonni eat cunt! She was an artist with her lips and tongue, and my pussy was her canvas. She licked out tranquil, dreamy meadows and powerful, passionate storms. She sucked my clit into her hot mouth and hummed, slowly sliding her tongue around and around my tip. She brought me to the very edge of orgasm and held me there, in delicious torture, then backed off and did it again. And again.
Finally, she took her lips from mine and sighed. “My tongue’s getting tired, sweetie,” she confessed. I’m enjoying this, though. Are you?”
“Very, very much. More than I ever imagined.”
“But you still haven’t cum. Do you feel frustrated?.”
“Not really. Lonni, it’s SO good… well, maybe just a little, but I don’t really mind.”
“Well,” Lonni said, standing up, “you’re not a pure lesbian, in my expert opinion. Girl tongue is not enough.” She unbuttoned her lacy white blouse and freed her breasts from her tight push up bra. They were smaller than I’d thought, but still bigger than mine. And creamy, with pinkish brown nipples. She looked good.
“Let’s try this,” she said, lowering her bare tits deliciously on mine, and bringing her mouth close enough to taste each others’ breath. “Kiss me while I touch you. Give your mouth something to do.” She sucked my tongue into her talented mouth, still tasting of my juices, and went to work with her fingers on my clit.
I gasped as she vigorously rubbed my clit, holding nothing back. I sucked her tongue and felt myself starting to fall… starting to fall… and not quite falling.
After a while, Lonni stood again, looking down at my body, spread-legged, willing to do anything for her. She shook her head. “You like girls, but you’re just not a lesbian, Cindy.”
“I’m not, am I?” I was a little disappointed, but I was learning who I was. Lonni was teaching me. It was good.
“We’ll have to try something else. But first I want to explain something.” She smiled conspiratorially. “Promise not to tell?”
“Cross my heart,” I echoed her earlier promise to me.
“It’s this.” Lonni stepped back, unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it, hesitated, then took off her lace panties and, reaching down between her legs, peeled off a panty liner and freed a long, beautiful cock! It quickly swelled to a slender but respectable girth. The head was streamlined, and the same pinkish brown as her nipples. Lonni was a dickgirl, she-male, a girl with a cock. My heart fluttered.
“Oh, Lonni!” I said reverently. “It’s so pretty!”
“It is, isn’t it?” she said with a contented smile, fondly running her fingers along its length. She looked me in the eyes. “Do you think it’s pretty enough to take your virginity with?” she asked, knowing full well the answer.
I nodded, which made my head spin a little. “Oh, yes, Lonni. Please. Put your pretty cock inside me. Take my virginity. Take me. Fuck me, please, now”
I was finally losing my virginity! To a woman. Well, kind of. Someone who understood about being a woman, anyway. A she-male woman, who was warm and caring and funny, who had a pretty face, a talented mouth, soft, round breasts, smooth legs, and a firm, slender cock. What more could a girl want?
Well… I licked my lips, eyeing the head of her dick, a girl wants what a girl wants, and I wanted a taste, but there would be time for that, too, I hoped.
Lonni took a condom out of her drawer and started to put it on.
“No,” I objected. “Please. My period starts tomorrow.”
“You’re that regular?”
“Like a clock.”
“Well, it’s a risk, even if I don’t cum inside you.”
“Let it be my risk, Lonni. I don’t want the first thing inside me to be plastic. Not again.”
She sighed, “Since you put it that way…” then grinned wickedly, “roll over, sweet cheeks. Mama has a present for you.”
I obediently rolled onto my tummy, bent low over the bed and raised my ass. She could have me any way she wanted me.
I felt Lonni use her hand to brush the head of her cock between my pussy lips, getting it slick with my juices. She pushed, gently, then, until the swollen head of her dick lodged in my constricted opening. I pushed back, firmly. I felt something tear as I thrust my pussy back onto her cock. It hurt a little, but I didn’t mind.
Lonni was behind me with her legs between mine, holding my hips in her suddenly strong hands, standing her ground while I pushed back on her rigid shaft, driving it deeper inside me. I started to rock back and forth, moving her length gently in and out of me. It stopped hurting. It started to feel really good.
It felt incredible to have her cock filling me, making my cunt tight, like a cork in a bottle. I could feel the muscles inside me clenching on her shaft. From her sharp intake of breath, I could tell she felt it too.
Lonni slipped her arm around my waist and slid a finger inside my fold, in just the right spot. “Now, she whispered in my ear, “let’s see if you’re hetero.”
Lonni fucked me from behind, intensely, swaying like a dancer, thrusting inside me with grace and passion, while her fingers worked my pussy juice into my clit with unrelenting urgency. She wanted me to cum so badly. She wanted to fuck me and make me cum.
And finally, I did. I had a climax. Just a small one, no more than a four on the clitoral Richter scale, but it involved my love tunnel as well, and that made it profoundly satisfying.
“Well,” Lonni panted, “you can cum with a cock inside you. If it belongs to the right woman, anyway.”
I leaned forward, encouraging Lonni to pull her cock out of me. “But you still haven’t cum,” I pointed out, after all that work.” I stood up and turned around. “On your back, now,” I commanded imperiously.
“Ooh… Bossy, domineering, Queen Cindy.” Lonni scrambled to lay herself on the bed, her soft breasts tilted up and her sweet penis swaying in the air. “I like it.”
I swung a leg over her head, lowering my Happy Meal onto her mouth, while my own mouth followed my hungry eyes to that rosy cock head of hers. Lonni’s tongue was as skilled as ever, doing things to my clit that I couldn’t even comprehend. I gave up, and let her guide me over the edge, as I sucked on her beautiful, beautiful cock.
I slid it all the way down my throat, swallowed, heard her gasp, pulled back to admire the sight of her head, then pushed her tip through my pursed lips and did it again. And again. I slid her cock between my lips and down my throat and swallowed on her, clenching on her, over and over, while she drove me toward a thundering climax with her lips and tongue.
When the warmth finally burst from my womb like a star going nova, and swept me away, her cock head practically burst open in my mouth, spilling her warm, sweet seed right down my throat. I backed off a little, letting her cock spurt cum in my mouth so I could taste it. Oh, it was good.
I swallowed every bit. Not a drop escaped my hungry mouth. When she was finished, I continued to suck on her, greedy for a final taste. She shuddered and collapsed, her face covered in my pussy juice, her soft cock in my mouth. I turned end-for-end and kissed her, pressing my breasts agains hers, softness on softness, straddling her slender cock with my pussy lips, sharing the taste of our mingled cum on our dancing tongues.
Lonni was the woman of my dreams, and I loved her, everything about her, from her pretty face and soft tits to her long, firm cock. I didn’t know what the future held, but for now she was mine. My she-male. My dickgirl. A pretty girl I could gossip with, rub tits with and kiss, with a pretty cock I could suck and even fuck. How lucky can one girl get?
I felt like my education had finally begun. And it had. But there was so much more for me to learn.
Chapter 4 — Twylla
I was doing pretty well in my first year of college. A few of my classes were boring, and some were hard, but I was learning a ton of new stuff, and I discovered I liked it. More importantly, I was learning to really think for myself. (Cin-dy! Cin-dy!)
My love life was going pretty good too, despite my being a semi-submissive, not-quite lesbian, with an obsessive thing for sucking cocks—and a history of inciting strangers to cum in my mouth.
Yeah, I know…
Fortunately my room mate Lonni was a semi-dominant dick-girl, a she-male with long silky hair, soft breasts, and a really pretty cock that I couldn’t keep my mouth off of—everything a girl like me could want, pretty much.
Lonni loved to bury her cock in my pussy while we cuddled, and that was nice too. It wasn’t romantic, really—after the first dizzy weeks, that is—and that made it easier for both of us, but it was delicious. We were cozy girlfriends, who usually ended our nights in bed together.
We had only a few rules, to keep from hurting each other: I wanted to be Lonni’s only girl, and so I was. Lonni wanted hers to be the only cock that was welcome in my pussy, and I was fully content with that. If we had been a normal couple, that would have pretty much sewn things up.
But we weren’t normal. We were two free spirits, sister cum sluts.
Lonni was still discovering what she liked. She was fully into the shemale-on-female thing with me, but like most women, she also had yearnings for cock to suck and be fucked by. I have a thing for cocks myself, so I understood her need. And since I couldn’t fill it, I gave her my blessing to find her own.
Lonni could enjoy all the cocks she wanted, without hurting my feelings, as long as I was her only girl—her only girl-girl, that is (I didn’t mind other dick-girls). Some nights she’d come in late, smelling of male sex, and we’d snuggle under the blankets and squeal about it together.
And Lonni understood my near-insatiable need to suck cocks. So if I found something extra to suck on from time to time, well, that was all right with her, as long as I kept it out of my pussy. What I did with my mouth was my own business, unless I felt like talking about it with her afterward, girl-to-girl.
I guess when two cum sluts get together, that’s how it has to be. And Lonni was actively encouraging me to explore my inner cum slut, to find out what I really liked, to experiment and test my boundaries.
Isn’t that what being young is for?
So that’s basically how I got involved with Twylla, and also how I ended up naked on the floor of the Delta Pi frat house.
But I’m getting totally ahead of myself.
Twylla Van Dyke wasn’t exactly what her name suggests: she didn’t drive a van. The night I met her, I’d walked into town to pick up a few things at an art supply store after class. The sun set on my way back, and I stopped in at a little bar that catered to the U crowd. (In my state the drinking age was 18. I pitied kids who lived where it was 21.) It was early on a Friday night, so it was busy, but not really crowded yet.
I ordered a beer, leaned on my daypack, and was idly checking out some trouser bulges—speculatively, but not very seriously—when Twylla walked in front of me, putting her crotch directly in the sight line between me and the bulge I was admiring at the moment.
Twylla didn’t have a bulge, just a mound, with pussy lips shaped like a camel’s toe, clearly outlined against her tight black leather pants—did I say tight? It looked like they were spray-painted on. It looked so slutty, and so good! I took a nice long look, getting a little tingle in my pussy. Then I looked up, and there she was, looking right back at me. It was obvious that she knew exactly what was going through my head.
I blushed. She didn’t. She gave me a knowing, evaluating look.
“You like what you see,” she said, by way of introduction. It wasn’t a question.
She maintained eye contact, then broke it to look me up and down. In that moment my eyes were drawn back to that yummy-looking mound of hers. Our eyes met again and it was as if we had felt each other up. I blushed again. She didn’t.
She had dark red hair that looked exotic but natural, a strong face—more handsome than pretty—and smallish, upturned breasts. She was lean, but with well-defined curves. Her lips and fingernails were painted a dark red shade that matched her hair and she was dressed, neck to ankles, in skin-tight black leather. I didn’t see her tattoos until later.
She was so hot. Everyone in the place was looking at her, men and women, secretly or openly.
But she was looking at me.
She took the beer out of my hand, put it on the bar, took my arm, and walked me right out into the parking lot. The night air was damp and cool, but her lips were hot as she pressed me up against the brick wall of the building. Her tongue didn’t twine with mine, it came into my mouth and took over. Her face and breasts pressed into mine. She stood against me with her legs wide, straddling my own legs.
She took my hand in hers and cupped it under her pussy, pulling my wrist upward. To someone passing by, it would look like I had grabbed her crotch and was lifting her up by it.
And I was. I hadn’t initiated it—it wasn’t something I would do!—but I found myself doing it anyway, under her wordless direction. She squeezed my hand with her thighs, and I squeezed back, compressing her pussy lips through the thin leather of her pants. She gave a short gasp of approval. I was passionately groping her sex now, and completely under her control.
I realized just then that I was going to do whatever she wanted—I was overpowered by my desire to please her, to satisfy her. It didn’t completely surprise me—I knew I had submissive tendencies. But it caught me off guard. I had always fallen under someone else’s sway gradually. No one had ever taken immediate, total control of me like this. It was disconcerting.
It was also arousing. It was actually making me wet. But at the same time, my newly developing independence and confidence drove me to rebel. I found myself giving her whatever she indicated as her desire, but doing it forcefully, not passively.
She nipped at my lips. “Oh! A tiger! I like pussycats. Come with me, pussy.” So much for my rebellion.
I followed as she led me by the hand to a shiny black SUV in a dark corner of the lot, chirped it open with a fob hanging from a small chain on her jacket, opened the back passenger door, and hustled me inside. The interior was dark—no cab light came on—and roomy. She gently shoved me down into a sitting position on the thickly carpeted floor, with my back against the far door. She stepped inside, standing with her slender body directly in front of me, her legs straddling my body, her back to the still open door. It was clear she had done this before with others. But I didn’t care. I wanted her to do it to me.
She took my hand and put in on a zipper that started at the top of her ass, running under her crotch and up almost to her belt. “Open me,” she grated, her breath coming harder. I pulled open the zipper, exposing her pale shaved pussy through the opening of her now crotchless pants.
“Now, eat me,” she demanded quietly. “Eat and suck. Come and eat me, little pussy.”
She stood with her hips tilted forward, her pussy pressed against my mouth. She wrapped her fingers in my hair and guided my head. “Lick,” she whispered, “Lick and suck.” She began to hump my mouth, rubbing herself up and down against my lips and tongue, making me taste her, from the dark tunnel of her rich, winey cunt to her thick, engorged clit and back. “Lick, yes… Lick, yes… Lick,” she prompted, establishing the pace she wanted from me.
When I was licking her in a steady rhythm—her rhythm—she angled her hips so her clit drifted across my moving tongue, and started to move her pelvis in small circles, fucking her clit with my tongue. “Mmmm,” she said. “Good. That’s right.”
She pulled my head hard against her crotch and began to move faster, grinding her clit against my mouth in tighter circles. “Uh, uh, uh. Yes. Yes, you little trollop. Yes, slut. Fuck me with that pretty mouth. Ahh! Now suck my cunt. Suck my cunt!”
I latched my lips onto her vulva and sucked, licking her clit in the same steady rhythm, while she fucked my mouth, her hands gripping the back of my head.
And then my heart opened, and instead of letting her use me, I gave myself to her, with a will. I sucked and licked with the same rhythm, but my heart was in it. I was feeling her clit feel my tongue, and shaping myself to it, joyfully, passionately. “Yes! Yes! Oh, you beautiful cunt. You. Suck. So. Goooood. Uh. Uh! Mmmm.
“Oh! Fuck! Fuck! You little minx! you’re… Uhh. Fuck…”
Her wet slipperiness increased as she shuddered and came, her hips bucking uncontrollably. I kept on sucking, moving my tongue more softly now, gradually easing as I prolonged and milked the last tremors of her orgasm.
She shifted back minutely in the low space between the seats, wiping spittle from her lips with the back of her hand. She zipped up, shaking but trying not to show it. “Fuck.” she said shakily. “You. You’re really something.”
I had worshipped her clit like a cock, and drawn the same satisfaction from squeezing every trembling iota of her orgasm out of it. She backed down out of the still open passenger door, the chill night air rushing in, contrasting with her heat, and offered me her hand to help me up.
“You in a hurry to be somewhere?” she asked, as I climbed down out of the SUV.
I shook my head. I hadn’t spoken a word yet. I didn’t want to spoil it now. She nodded. “Let’s go for a ride, then.” She closed the back door, opening the front passenger door for me courteously. “You can ride shotgun.”
I climbed wordlessly into her SUV, shrugging off my daypack for her to catch. She gracefully caught it and tucked it down by my feet as I buckled in. “Your loftiness,” she intoned, bowing sardonically, but smiling. She got behind the wheel and we went for a ride.
She drove us up a winding, two-lane road that climbed up through dark trees, then opened onto a curve with a broad shoulder overlooking the town. She pulled off, and I looked down at the view, while she looked at me. The city lights glistened in the mist. It was cold and empty and beautiful, which I was suspected was also true of my companion. She had, you know, just pussy-fucked my mouth—with my enthusiastic cooperation, yeah, but not my actual consent.
“What gets you off?” she asked. “You like eating pussy, I can tell. You’re good at it, too,” she acknowledged. “But it isn’t your cunt’s heart’s desire… You’re a submissive, but you’re no slave. You’re not looking for a master. And you’ve got that fucking Spark.”
I sat silently, watching the view, while she tried to figure me out. As she talked, I began to figure myself out, little by little.
“And you’re not wetting your panties waiting for me to eat you, I can tell that, too. You want me to dominate you, but on your own terms.”
She squinted at me, speculatively. “What is it that you’re hoping I’ll make you do, pussy?” She laid her hand in the V of my crotch, and began to massage it. I spread my legs a little to give her easy access.
“What gets you off?” she repeated. “Not this,” she said, squeezing my clit against the side of my labia. I squirmed in languid pleasure. “You like it though. Yeah,” she said, unzipping my pants and fingering my pussy and clit aggressively. “You like it but it doesn’t take your breath away.”
She thrust her finger fully up inside me and flexed it, while she brought her face close to mine. “I want to take your breath away,” she breathed, her exhalation hot in my ear. She began to work her finger inside me with every word. “What. will. it. take. Pussy? What. Do I have. To make. You. Do?”
And just like that, I knew what I wanted from her. Or thought I did. I took hold of her wrist and gently guided it up and down, humping my hips to fuck her fingers. “I want you. To eat my cunt. In front of a line of men. Who are fucking my mouth. I want you. To make me cum. Over and over. While you make me. Eat their semen. I want you. To suck my clit. While men stroke their cocks. And cum. All. Over. Me.” I pulled her hand out, and sucked her fingers clean, one by one. “That’s what it will take, for you to take my breath away.”
I looked her in the eyes. “Make me do that, and I’ll be your willing slave, for one night. For that night, I’ll do whatever you want, let you do anything to me that your cunt’s heart desires.”
She was breathing hard, already doing things to me in her imagination. “What’s your name, pussy?”
I laughed. “Cindy the First, Gloryhole Queen of Squalor Park.” I offered my hand. “Naughty to meet you.”
We were both laughing. She gave me her hand, her fingers still damp from our encounter. “I’m Twylla Van Dyke,” she announced.
“Well, of course your are.”
She laughed again, throatily, starting the SUV and pulling back onto the road. “Oh, the things I’m going to do to you,” she said hungrily.
“But first, I’m going to give you your cunt’s desire. To take your breath away.”
Her breathing grew ragged again. “I’m going to love watching you beg for it. And I know you’re going to love begging.”
I trembled a little, I was so turned on—from my hard nipples to my dripping slit. Was I insane?
She smiled, wickedly. “So you like cocks. You want a room full of pricks?
“I know just the place.”
She drove on in silence. I sat beside her, frightened and aroused, wondering what I had gotten myself into, trusting my inner cum slut to guide me.
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Chapter 5 — Delta Pi
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We pulled into a circular driveway in front of a mansion that had seen better days. The house and grounds were in decent shape, casually tidy but far from manicured. There were two large greek letters above the door, a triangle and a pair of vertical lines topped with a wavy one: Delta Pi.
It was a frat house, one with a nasty reputation. I’d been warned about it by Lonni. “You might get something you like there,” she’d said, “but you might get a lot more besides. They don’t always take ‘no’ for an answer once they get a girl behind closed doors.”
“I’ve heard about this place,” I said to Twylla, trying to keep the concern out of my voice.
“Worried?” she asked, seeing right through my calm pose. She grinned. “You should be. If you came here alone, looking for a bunch of guys to suck off, you’d get what you were looking for, all right, and be sorry you asked—probably wake up on the lawn at 4:00 a.m, with cum dribbling out of your ass and ‘whore’ written on your forehead in marker, or something worse. Shit happens here sometimes. Girls complain, but nothing changes. The little pricks are connected, protected by their rich daddies.”
“Why do girls still come here, then?”
“Same reason we’re here, puss. Lots of willing cocks. Rich, young, well-dressed, athletic cocks, for girls who care about that.” She snorted derisively. “Most do. So they come.” She shrugged. “Girls with no leverage sometimes wish they hadn’t.”
“You have leverage?”
She led me to the front door with a swagger. “Oh, yeah. They know me. We party sometimes, and I scare them. I know too much about these dickwads for them to fuck with me.
“Besides, I have a rich daddy, too. Nowhere near as rich as these walking dicks’, but mine is a lawyer for the mob. If they lay so much as an unwanted finger on me, Daddy Will Sue. If he wins in court, he’ll take their little trust funds away. If he loses… daddy gets very angry when he loses. Things get damaged,” she smiled maliciously.
I shuddered. She laughed. “That’s the spirit, little pussy queen. Welcome to the well-named DP house, the place that hold’s your cunt’s big, stiff, spurting desire, and so much more.
“Seriously though, don’t wander off. And don’t accept anything to drink. Not unless it comes from the tip of a cock,” she added dryly.
I straightened my shoulders. I was pushing my boundaries, I told myself, exploring. Celebrating my inner cum slut. Whatever happened, I was going to find out more about who I was, and what I wanted.
I had told Twylla what I thought I wanted, but how would I feel when it actually happened? My fear was overlaid with a growing erotic thrill. What had Twylla called it? My cunt’s heart’s desire. It might not be what I’d find, but it was finally what I knew I was looking for.
A handsome, well-groomed young stud answered the door, saw Twylla, and opened the way mock-courteously, gesturing us in. “Ms. Van Dyke,” he greeted her. “Always a pleasure.”
Twylla gave him a dangerous look. “Usually a pleasure,” he amended. “None of our brothers have offended you, I hope.”
“Your very existence offends me, Chaz. But don’t worry; tonight it’s pleasure. For you, if you like, and, say, six or twelve of your brothers.”
Chaz licked his suddenly dry lips and looked at me speculatively. “So many?” he asked, getting excited. “She’s so… little.”
Twylla grinned. “Little and tight and mine, to do with as I please. Tonight, a little humiliation is on the menu. She’s going to strip naked and play with herself in front of you all, then I’m going to eat her cunt, while the lot of you take turns fucking her in the mouth. Jack off on her if you want. Cum on her face, her sweet little tits. Hell, giver a cum shower. I’ll have her wanting it. She’ll be begging to suck your dicks dry and lick them clean.”
Chaz was practically shaking. I smiled to myself. Guys. So predictable, in some ways. “Yes,” he answered. “Yes, absolutely. Come upstairs. The Blue Room, I think. Yes, definitely. I’ll gather the flock.” He hesitated. “Would you like a drink?” he asked with hooded eyes.
Twylla laughed in his face. “Do I look stupid, Chaz?”
“No. No, definitely not. Crazy and dangerous, yes, but stupid? No.” He admired her leather-clad figure. “And may I say, very sexy tonight?”
“You may. Tonight and every night. Enjoy the sights, but don’t get carried away. If a little cum splashes off pussy here and lands on my leather, she’ll lick it off. But if one of your brothers deliberately shoots his spunk on me, I’ll have his testicles in my mouth. And he won’t like it.”
“Well,” said Chaz, “I think we’ve established the ground rules for our little soiree.” He gestured upstairs, and eyed me with undisguised lust. “Let the fun begin.”
The so-called Blue Room was large, heavily curtained, and not blue. It was flooded with dim red light and long black shadows from a single, bare, scarlet bulb. Chaz excused himself and left me alone with Twylla.
She shook a black silk blindfold from her jacket and tied it around my eyes. I instantly felt more vulnerable, more dependent on her, and more sexually aroused.
She fastened a leather collar around my neck. She unbuttoned my blouse and put small clips on my nipples. They didn’t hurt, but they stimulated me almost too much. This was intended as humiliation, but I wasn’t humiliated. I was exhilarated. She put her hands inside my blouse and ran them over my breasts and belly. We started making out, her tongue again aggressively taking possession of my mouth, her hands occasionally tugging gently on my nipple clips, dragging me toward the border between extreme pleasure and mild pain.
I was completely in her hands. She could change the rules at any time and I would be helpless. She could do anything to me. Anything at all. She squeezed my crotch and I almost came. This was making me so hot.
There was a gradually building rustle and murmur in the room as Twylla kissed, licked, and bit me everywhere from my blindfolded face to my belly button, paying special attention to my mouth and breasts. Then she took the blindfold off. Men ringed the room, tall and sexual in the red light, casting long, dark shadows.
There were more than a dozen men in the room, all of them young, most of them muscular, proud, and even attractive. All had visible bulges, and some were squeezing their cocks through their pants. A few already had them out and were stroking them, slowly, in anticipation of a long night’s pleasure. My mouth started to water. Their faces began to recede from my vision, into a haze. I saw only a ring of tall red cocks casting black shadows.
Twylla pulled my blouse off, dropping it on the floor, and held up my naked tits, complete with nipple clamps, to the shadowy ring of aroused cocks. “This delicious little thing is Pussy,” she said. “But you can’t have Pussy’s pussy. It’s mine. She wants to give her cunt to me, in front of all of you. Don’t you, pussy?”
“Yes,” I answered, my natural shyness showing. A predatory murmur ran through the room.
“Say it.”
“I want, I want you to fuck me. Make me cum. In front of these men.” I fought with my fear.
“And what would you like the men to do, pussy?”
“I want them to line up,” my voice was shaking. My throat was dry. Had I really asked for, demanded, this? “And f-fuck my mouth.”
“And what will you do?”
“Suck. Suck them off. I’ll give them all the best b-blowjobs. Make them cum. In my mouth.”
“And?”
“And swallow their cum,” I declared, my voice firming. “All of it.” The bulges around the room were swelling into thick rods now. More cocks were coming out. More hands stroking them. The musty smell was becoming the odor of rutting males.
“And if they don’t want to cum in your mouth?”
“They can cum on my face, on my tits, in my hair. All over me.”
“CAN, pussy? Only CAN cum on you?”
“I want them to. I want them to cum on me.”
“Beg for it.”
“Please. Oh please let me suck you. Let me turn you on and get you off with my lips and tongue. Please, yes, stroke your dicks and shower me with your warm cum. It will make me so hot to have you jack off on me. I’ll cum and cum, if I can only suck your long, beautiful cocks. I’ll worship them with my mouth.”
There. I had made my confession. My inner cum slut had spoken. I could feel the beat of male sexual response pulsing all around me.
“Very pretty. Now strip.”
I carelessly kicked my shoes off, stepped out of my pants, then dropped my panties, letting them fall. I kicked them aside. I was naked, in front of all these men these cocks. My knees were shaking. This was so different from an anonymous glory hole. I was so much more exposed. My heart was pounding. I felt like I was going to pass out, and at the same time like I was building to a shattering climax. Everything balanced on a knife’s edge.
My inner cum slut was coming out of the darkness, at least into the shadows. I was still hiding behind the pretext of being forced to do this, instead of reveling in it, but it wasn’t entirely a pretext. Twylla was making me do this, albeit at my urging. This would be painfully humiliating, or it would be glorious.
“On your knees, pussy. Spread your lips and play with yourself while you suck a man’s cock for us. I’ll take your cunt when you’re wet and I’m ready. Now, who’s first?”
I knelt on the carpet, spreading my labia and beginning to finger myself. My pussy was already sopping wet. I was so hot I was shaking. A tall, muscular pair of legs appeared in front of me as I rubbed myself. A man’s hand held an engorged cock up to my mouth. I wrapped my lips around the tip. He pushed it in.
I began to suck on it. Yes! I felt transformed. Unexpectedly, I flung my arms around his legs, pulling his cock into my face, plunging my mouth down over that sweet, warm, swelling prick. The blood-red cock head filled my mouth. I sucked harder and impaled my face on it, reared my head back and did it again, and again, getting it deeper into my throat each time, as it grew longer and harder. I began to moan, my cries of arousal only partly blocked by the burgeoning cock filling my throat. I could feel the cock responding to my passion. I could feel the man behind it responding. I could feel the whole room responding. The sexual energy in the room was growing, and changing, moment by moment.
Gaining strength and confidence, I unwrapped one arm from around him and dipped a hand into the source of my yearning. I barely brushed my clit before I clenched in a spasming orgasmic wave. I came, loudly and undeniably.
The cock in my mouth erupted in immediate response, fountaining with semen, filling my mouth to overflowing. In a fit of lust, the man I was face-fucking pulled his cock from my lips and shot more cum on my face. Humiliation? No. I chose rapture.
I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, mouth open, smiling, beatific, as the warm rain of his orgasm spilled over me, reflecting back the heat of my own. A burst of applause broke out, and an animal roar of approval and lust.
I was on my knees, naked in the beast’s lair, in Twylla’s thrall. But my cum slut was in charge of us all now, and she was radiant. A knot of men jostled for position to get in line for my oral ministrations. The rest impatiently gathered in a clot around me, ardently stroking themselves, in pleasure and passion, approaching climax, urging their pricks to shoot, shoot, shower me with their offering of semen and sperm, feeding the flames of my glowing carnal furnace with their sweet cum.
Queen Cindy of Delta Pi accepted the second hot, rigid cock into her bountiful mouth, sucked it all the way down her throat, hummed, and began her reign of pleasure and passion. They had come to use me. Now they were hungry to be near my heat.
I leaned forward and thrust my ass back toward Twylla. I needed both hands now, to hold and stroke this forest of cocks. While I gave myself to them, using both hands, I urged Twylla’s tongue and lips to keep bringing me to the edge of climax, fanning the white-hot core of this slowly building firestorm with a flame of pure orgasmic female incandescence.
Twylla Van Dyke got on her knees and thrust her face into my vulva from behind. Her lips wrapped around my swollen clit. Her tongue lapped the slippery fluid dripping from my cunt up and over my swollen love bud, sliding up and down on my engorged nub, keeping my sex lubricated and stimulated, in perpetual throbbing lust.
The cum slut inside me was bending us all to her will. It was glorious.
I was sucking on a big, hard dick, its sensitive tip lodged in my throat. I held the rigid shaft of another in my left hand. I could feel it pulsing. I was helping to stroke a third, twisting my right hand around the head, tickling the sensitive underside while its owner thrust it through the ring formed by his finger and thumb. It swelled, the head turning purple. Cum began to dribble from the tip, onto my wrist. The man released the ring from around the base of his cock and jets of semen shot out, onto my cheek and hair.
It triggered a chain reaction. Two more immediately spurted, causing a warm rain of cum to fall on my neck, breasts and shoulders, dripping slowly down my back and front in thin white runnels. At the same instant, the cock in my throat jerked and pulsed, injecting its seed directly into my gullet, then withdrew, still leaking cum. And at that moment, Twylla gave my clitoris a strong, prolonged swirling suck and I came again, loudly, screaming my pleasure around the shaft of a yet another cock, already plunging noisily into my mouth and throat.
Cock after cock was stuffed into my mouth, and I lusted for every one, worshipped every one, brought each one to paroxysms of pleasure, culminating in wet orgasm, and utterly satisfied every one, draining them completely.
Other cocks, too impatient to wait, jacked off on my face and my tiny, precious tits, and I turned it into something beautiful, every pulsing cock spraying an offering of semen to the cum goddess I embodied. Others might seek to debase me, but I refused to be debased.
With so many engorged shafts and heads pumping in and out of my mouth, the stimulus of Twylla’s tongue on my clit kept pulling me over the edge, into the sweet abyss. I came, again and again, shuddering, trembling, dripping, screaming.
Things began to blur together, into one endless series of swollen heads, pulsing shafts, and back-to-back male and female orgasms. But distinct moments stand out in sharp relief:
—An enormous cock, it’s head swaying in front of me, spraying a fountain of pale fluid, arcing over me. Me, raising my face languidly to catch it in mid-stream in my mouth…
—Twylla playfully slipping a moistened finger up my ass while I was deepthroating a particularly long member, causing me to choke, squeezing the cock so hard it unloaded inside me on the spot, then pulling her finger out as she sucked hard on my clit, triggering the most spectacular orgasm of my night, as the long shaft continued to pulse…
—A trembling dick spilling a thick creamy wad in my mouth, its owner crying out as I massaged the head with my tongue, bathing it in its own slippery load…
—One long cock pulling slowly out of my mouth, trailing a string of cum and saliva, as another bobbed in the air, hungry to enter…
—Four cocks spurting cum on my face at the same time, the hot seed splashing on both my cheeks. The guttural moans of lust and satisfaction as I wiped my face clean with my fingers, gathering their semen, and sucked the fresh cum from my hands, just before another turgid member thrust into my mouth, fountaining my mouthful of mixed seed out onto my lips and chin…
—Twylla grunting as she rooted aggressively in my cunt, making me cum twice in a row…
—The sound of the door closing behind the last man as he left…
—Lying alone in the red light with my head in Twylla’s lap, sucking the cum from her fingers as she wiped it off my leather collar and fed it to me with surprising tenderness…
—Reveling in the moment, knowing I had truly freed my inner cum slut, that she was a genie who would never go back into the bottle…
—Gazing with expectant trepidation into Twylla’s eyes as she held me, their depths busy with thoughts of me in a thousand different positions, already choreographing my promised night of bondage to her every desire…
—My pleasure at taking my iPhone out of my daypack in Twilla’s SUV on the way back to my dorm, and reading a love note from Lonni, as the sky turned pale in the east, shot with pink and gold, shining like a glistening vagina…
After all of that, I still wanted to go home and fuck Lonni, to feel the comfort of her cock inside me. To doze in her arms. It was Saturday. We could stay in bed.
I was so happy.
