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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Yale Frat Party
by Anonymous (address withheld)
***
Here is a story, somewhat true, somewhat rumor, but
either way, fairly juicy, well worth the time to read,
but clearly not for the meek. (Mdom/F, oral, anal)
***
"Just one more night," she begged him.
He stood in the doorway, looked at her tear-streaked
face with a certain amount of disdain. He knew he was
about finished with her. She didn't know that yet,
evidently. Too bad.
"Come on, Brad. I can't... I can't believe that you
don't want to see me anymore. I know I can change your
mind." She smiled, even through her tears. "You still
want me, don't you?"
He eyed her body critically beneath the tight-fitting
sweat-clothes. As far as bodies went, it was a good
one. When he had first seen her tight, firm flesh
clearly revealed by a set of running tights, he'd known
that he would get in, somehow.
It hadn't been hard.
It was a DKE party. She'd been at the keg. He spilled
beer on her accidentally on purpose. She hardly
noticed, until he pointed it out to her. She was
grateful for the information. She turned out to be
grateful enough to share his sleeping quarters that
evening. It had been a very fulfilling evening. Well,
fulfilling for her.
Draining for him. Afterwards, he found out that her
name was Linda.
But that was a month ago, and now he was ready to move
on to other conquests. was more than ready, in fact.
He'd had several rather acrobatic experiences with one
of her more distant acquaintances. Linda had noticed
the way he had looked at the flesh beneath her very-
loose-with-no-bra-halter top. She evidently had thought
it was nothing but a passing fancy. In fact, that very
night he had been extremely helpful in removing the
girl's halter top. Among other things.
Here she was, though, looking at him with wide eyes,
unconsciously moving her legs apart. That was a habit
that he liked; when they were alone, she knew where she
stood in relation to him. Or knelt, occasionally. And,
looking at the tight curve of her thighs, noting the
movement of her breasts in sympathy with her sobs, he
decided that she was worth one last night. Not a night
that would tie him to her, like she intended. At least,
not for more than a few hours. But it wouldn't do to
appear too interested; not yet.
"I said it's over. What difference can a night make?"
"A lot of difference. All the difference." She was
almost frantic. "Remember the time in your room after
that concert? Remember how good it was? Do you remember
what you said?"
He didn't. According to her, he'd said he loved her.
Chances are, he had.
Said it, that is. Not loved her.
She moved closer to him. She pressed her body to his
unmoving one, and despite his attempt to appear
uninterested, it was hard not to be stirred by the firm
yielding softness of her breasts crushed frantically to
him, the wriggle in her hips that moved maddeningly
against his member. She felt his response, even through
the haze of alcohol, put her tongue to his lips. Yes,
he wanted her. But he would have her his way, this
time. He didn't care what she thought afterwards,
didn't intend to see her afterwards.
He smiled. After all, she'd be getting what she wanted.
She interpreted his smile as acquiescence, and moved
her lips to his, but he remained cold, drew his head
back somewhat. "You're sure you want this?" "Oh, yeah,"
she breathed.
So he pulled her closer to him. And she liked it,
thought she had managed to manipulate him. That wasn't
right. It was time for him to assert his mastery over
her. He thrust his tongue between her lips, moved his
hands to her warm buttocks and pressed them together,
slid them down and spread her thighs slightly so she
could ride him more easily.
He knew what it took to make her moan, knew that she
loved it when he tickled her gently through her
clothes. Gentility was not on the evening's agenda,
however. He wanted her hot and hard, moved his hands
roughly to her breasts, squeezing them, sunk his teeth
into her lips. She loved it all.
Just then, a thought came to him. He disengaged, pushed
her thighs away again so he could view her fully as he
spoke. He noted, with approval, that the crotch of her
sweatpants was faintly damp. That was another thing he
liked about Linda; she lubricated well, and at the
slightest stimulation.
"One last time. Okay, but not here."
"Where? Your room? Name it." Eager, awaiting further
attention from his body. Wanting to fulfill her soft
wanting with hard and violent pressure. But she was not
ready for his demand.
"Get into the bathroom. Take off your clothes and lie
down on the floor. I'll be in eventually."
"What? But what if... I mean, people might..."
"They might, but I don't care. They can look at you all
they want as far as I'm concerned. But if you want me
to fuck you, you better get in there and spread your
legs. And you better look like you mean it."
She looked trapped, uncertain, and that intensified his
hard-on with a raging surge. He knew that she was torn
internally between a need and a fear, but that her need
would betray her, that now she had to have him. He fell
onto her couch and placed his hands behind his head,
smiling, waiting for her to move.
After a few long moments, she did. In the direction of
the bathroom. Of course she closed the door after her.
He frankly didn't care if anyone came in while she was
undressing, or while he was having her. In fact, he
would like that, allowing her to be visually possessed
by yet another, destroying whatever self-will she had
even further.
He waited for as long as he knew it would take her to
undress, compensating amply for her inebriated state,
and added another fifteen minutes. By now, he was sure,
she was playing with herself, trying to keep the heat
which he had imparted to her. She liked to do that,
liked to have him watch.
It was an interesting experience to see her climax all
alone, to watch the quiver in her pelvis and the
transported expression in her half-lidded eyes. He was
tempted to peer in through a crack in the doorway and
watch her, but he knew she was expecting that, and
refused to subordinate to her desire in any way.
When he finally entered, he saw that he'd been right.
Her hand was stroking the area between her legs slowly
but forcefully. Her smooth, clear skin contrasted
nicely with the checkerboard beige of the floor. It
must have been uncomfortable, not to mention cold; her
legs shivered slightly, deliciously. But it was the
look on her face, the mixture of gladness that he had
arrived and vague apprehension about her vulnerable
state, that brought him to readiness.
He stood for a while above her, simply looking. When
she lay down, her breasts lost something of their
firmness, and flattened somewhat across her chest. But
her nipples were quite stiff, with cold or with
excitement, he didn't care which. That was where he
decided to start.
Her hands pulled his head to her chest, like mother to
infant, as he took her nipples and pulled with his
lips. No infant was ever so in possession of his
mother, though. No infant was ever about to violate his
mother so harshly. The sweaty tang of her flesh was
sweet to his tongue, the tart warmth inviting. He moved
lower, to her flat belly, delving into her navel,
biting the inside of her thigh. She cried aloud at
that, but not with great vehemence. It would not have
mattered.
About to essay her cleft, he thought better of it, and
left off with a slow and tantalizing lingual caress. It
was time for her to take care of him. He stood, and
undressed, watching her watching him. Her eyes were
never on his face, always on his cock. And she thought
she loved him. He knew what she loved, what she needed.
She got what she loved rammed through lips stretched
wide to accommodate and over a pulsating tongue and
into her throat.
She swallowed involuntarily, found it hard to breathe
through him, struggled with too much to consume. Her
mouth was hot and it was wet; it desired to take him
within itself and to spit him out, sucked frantically
and convulsed, each movement bringing him closer and
closer to climax. But it was not time yet to fill her,
and finally, regretfully, he pulled beyond begging
reach of her mouth. She took to kissing his legs, his
testicles. He grabbed a skein of hair and yanked,
causing her to moan again, and to look upwards.
With a hand motion, he told her to flip over.
This, he knew, was the final test of his mastery. He
knew that she was always extremely reluctant to be
taken from behind, but that was how it was going to be
tonight. Unless, of course, she wanted to be left cold
and empty on the bathroom floor, never to see him
again, only to dream of closure.
This night, she accepted it without question. Probably
was expecting it, possibly even wanting it. She moved
to her knees, placed her hands slowly on the floor and
lowered her torso, simultaneously raising her ass to
the bathroom door. He pressed her head further down, so
it touched the floor. Ran his hand over her back,
underneath for a while to caress her pendent teats,
back towards the rondure of her posterior.
Positioning himself behind her, he admired the tight
pink of her vagina, her welcoming orifice, created
specifically and explicitly for his enjoyment. A true
blonde--he appreciated that. Light pubic hair was very
rare in his experience and completely to be enjoyed.
Her ass was very much like her face, round and slightly
chubby, pert cheeks and full lips.
He readied her with his mouth, dancing lightly over
labia, lingering deliberately upon clitoris, tasting
her moisture and leaving his own to facilitate the
eventual violation. She was rocking back and forth on
the floor, with the pleasure of it all. He imagined she
was tonguing the very tiles, covered with dirt and
ammonia as they were, in anticipation of entry.
And then he plunged, and it was good.
As warm and tight as she'd ever been, aided by rocking
motion and an incredible amount of moisture. She had
already spent once; her cries had made that plainly
evident. But she was working diligently towards the
second, and her deep-seated need drove him. Here she
was, face to the floor and ass to the sky in total and
utter acquiescence to his desire.
When he climaxed, it was with a grunt and a huge
shooting spatter that drove deep within her. He knew
she felt it, sensed her sympathetic orgasm that made
her shiver and milk his penis of every last drop of
fluid. He contracted again and again.
After a while, he withdrew, sat against the wall. She
wanted to get up, but he insisted she remain that way,
spread to the world, while he recharged and readied his
second assault. She heaved, breathless with the effort.
Her tits bobbled nicely with her breaths, and he felt
the faint stirrings already.
Neither he nor she had noticed that the door had opened
in the middle of their act, nor the very confused
individual who had peered at the raging couple for a
few moments before beating a hasty retreat.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 66