The Devil's Threeway

The Devil's Threeway

"You really aren't going to come out?"

"I dunno," I said. "I have a midterm in two days."

"Danielle..." Heather said, her voice slipping into a high-pitched whine. "It's Halloween."

"I'm sure my professor will take that excuse," I retorted. "Could you sign a permission slip? Please excuse Dani from the test, she had a frat party to attend."

"Jesus, get over yourself," Heather said. "A few hours won't kill you. Though I might if I have to hear you whine again about how you haven't made any friends at Towson."

Truth be told, I barely considered myself a student at Towson. I know, I know, it's a perfectly good school. But I didn't start pulling my grades together until junior year, and by then I had my heart set on the University of Maryland.

Unfortunately, I'd been far too late in getting my act together to join girls like Heather who took the important shit seriously from the start of high school.

For me, the first few years of adolescence had proved as distracting to me as I was to the boys in my class. At first, I shrank from the attention that came from developing earlier. Like every girl, part of me felt super-conscious about my body, especially when it seemed like my chest would never stop growing.

There was a definite sense of tension in my home. I was an only child, living alone with my very conservative father who did his best to avoid acknowledging my blossoming womanhood. Maybe if my mother hadn't split so early, someone would have been there to guide me along. Instead, I found myself struggling through the various sizes on my own, depending on check-out girls for advice and often suffering for weeks with ill-fitting bras until I could summon the courage to admit I needed another size.

And each mistake was so fucking expensive!

Eventually, I went with a friend to Victoria's Secret and finally got measured for a 36 D bra, which I paid for with birthday money. And for a few months, imbued with a new sense of confidence at finally feeling right in my clothes, I enjoyed my body.

Suddenly, I felt hot.

My body certainly didn't look like any other freshman girl. And for a brief period of time, I turned into one of those bitchy girls who knew it.

I flirted and teased. I did that thing common for teenagers, dating boys for a few weeks at a time, thinking I was in love, only then they would push things further, trying to see and feel what was underneath my shirt.

I just wasn't ready.

I let myself get pressured into sex a few times, finding it largely unsatisfying. I tried pumping the brakes on everything, but I'd acquired a certain reputation. After a few dates, when I wouldn't go farther, everything would suddenly end. Like the only thing that mattered was my body. I hated being treated like an empty-headed hottie, a masturbatory vessel for everyone's amusement. Worse, I heard the whispering from the other girls, insinuating that I was some kind of whore. By the time I realized what had happened, so many classmates had already formed their stratified clicks that make up high school.

Not to mention that because our entire campus had barely a thousand students, there simply wasn't much room to suddenly redefine myself. Still, I tried. I studied my ass off - I wanted to transform myself. I wanted people at school to know me for my brains instead of my boobs. I found myself regularly dressing down, trying to minimize the attention me and my boobs would get.

Mercifully, my time at Hereford High School came to an end. But I hadn't scored high enough on the ACT to make up for my underwhelming GPA. I tried to consider myself lucky to be accepted at Towson, where I could still live at home. But the smart kids all went to College Park, including Heather, who had pretty much been my only friend senior year.

And here she was inviting me to a party on her campus.

Part of me knew it was ridiculous, but Baltimore County had a bad reputation. There was a bit of bad mouthing between our schools. We considered them our rivals. Truthfully, I doubt Maryland even thought much about us at all. Still, there was the insane thought that if anyone found out that I was a Tiger, relentless bullying would immediately follow.

After all, if I was smart enough, I'd be there already...

"Well," I said, scraping for an excuse. "What am I even going to wear?"

"Pick out something black and red," Heather said. "The sluttier the better. I'm on my way, so don't you dare try to fucking bail on me."

So here I was, a few seconds later, staring at myself in the full-length mirror, hoping to hell that my father had already turned in for the night.

There was no way I would be able to leave the house looking like this.

I'm five foot six, with long brown hair with blonde streaks and a perfectly toned body. Though I wanted to be respected for my brain, I never let myself go. I didn't have abs, but underneath my breasts, my waist narrowed nicely into a tight v shape. I was thin enough, not so much that my ribs were visible or anything, but I exercised daily.

I pulled on a pair of black yoga pants that left little to the imagination. There wasn't quite a camel toe in the front, but there was a clear imprint where anyone could see my thong if they looked closely enough. Rather than trying to find something else, I took them off, discarding my panties. There was something so intimate about the soft fabric pressing against my closely shaven pussy that quickly excited me. Turning around, looking at my backside, I could see each round cheek as the fabric almost clung to display my crack.

The only thing I owned that would have possibly worked was a red crop top that left my long, narrow belly-button completely exposed. It wasn't much better at hiding my breasts. I tried it with and without a bra, deciding that the straps on my only comfortable matching bra really stood out too much. Despite their size, my breasts only sloped down a little, keeping both quarter-sized nipples pointed horizontally.

Maybe it was seeing myself, dressed to my potential for the first time in months. Or it could have been the prospect of going to a party without any underwear. Whatever it was, the tips of my nipples hardened against the fabric. I could see large nubs of each against the fabric. I took a deep breath, my tits almost popping out of the top. Again I considered scrapping the whole thing.

This was way too slutty.

But I didn't have much else to work with, certainly nothing else red or black that might go with a Halloween costume. Plus, Heather was bringing something for me to wear, maybe this would just go underneath.

I worked on my make-up, dolling myself up for the first time in months. I had to go over my eyes twice, barely convinced they were even. I looked in the mirror one last time, then my phone went off, Heather texting to let me know she was outside.

I put on a white fake fur coat, covering up my scandalous outfit. Even still, I shivered in the cool October air. I scurried out the backdoor, running up to the passenger seat.

At least Heather was dressed sexy. She wore this bright yellow dress, cut strategically to emphasize her smaller bust line. Her hair was done up into a bun, looking exactly like Belle from Beauty and the Beast in that iconic song.

"Well, what do you think?"

"You look gorgeous!" I said. "I just feel a little silly compared to your costume."

"It was only like 30 bucks on Amazon," Heather said.

"Fuck, I wish I would have thought of that."

"Show me what you're working with," Heather said. "I didn't bring too much, so it's really up to you to sell it."

I struggled out the coat, feeling my tube top almost come off as I adjusted. I felt unbelievably self-conscious, like Heather would judge me as looking too slutty and stupid to come along. Instead, she simply presented me with the options.

Her eyes lingered on my chest, not bothering to hide how she gawked at how the top accentuated the curves of my breasts.

"Okay, that works," She said, handing me the rest of the costume.

It wasn't a lot. A black cat's tail that clipped onto the back of my yoga pants, a pair of devil horns, and a plastic pitchfork.

"Really?" I asked, incredulous.

"It's last-minute," Heather said. "Besides, you pull it off."

"Are you sure I'm not showing too much skin?" I asked. "I don't want everyone in College Park thinking I'm a slut."

"It's Halloween!" Heather insisted. "Everyone gets to be a bit of a slut! Really, Danielle, your boobs are the only way the costume works."

We spent the nearly hour-long drive catching up, talking about school, me catching her up on the local gossip. Not that I knew much of anything. Most of my life was consumed with studying, trying to work my way into a better school.

Still, it was nice to just have a night out.

And after a while, I forget about how revealing my clothes were. I stopped overthinking the evening and started to have fun.

"Wow, this is nice," I said.

"Alpha Epsilon Pi," Heather said. "My brother got us the invitation."

"He lives here?"

"He did," Heather said. "They seemed to frown on students staying at the frat after graduation."

"Right..." I said, feeling foolish.

Looking at the marvelous house, I understood why so many students were willing to endure a series of swats, smacks, and other humiliating tasks in order to live in such opulence. Two stories high, at the entrance stood the iconic white pillars, leading into a large kind of foyer were maybe a hundred UM students mingled.

I decided to leave my coat in the car, not wanting to spend the evening wondering about it. So instead of nervously walking up to the mansion, I nearly ran, trying to limit my exposure to the chilly October air.

I should have felt more self-conscious, but again I forgot about the skin I was showing until I reached the front porch. At the door, a dour looking pledge took down our information. At first, the freshman was all business, his eyes focused on the list. It was worse wondering when he would notice us, or if what was impossibly risqué to me would even register with this crowd.

Then he really looked at us.

His eyes darted down. He started with Heather, who made an amazing Belle, only to stop, giving me a lingering look. There was no mistaking it. He was brazenly staring at my tits.

And given the rushed nature of my Devil costume, I accidentally had communicated to everyone that I wanted to be seen as a sexy object. To be objectified as another dolled-up Halloween slut. Heather had a good costume, a fun character to emulate. I was wearing plastic horns and a barely noticeable black tail. The only thing noteworthy about my costume was how it emphasized my tits and ass - otherwise it would have been just an outfit.

The pledge didn't look away, even as I glared back. His eyes were absolutely glued to me. I followed his stare, looking down and realizing that my nipples were completely erect, bulging out from the cold. Only there was nothing I could do. Until they calmed down, everything would be able to see the points of my nipple through my top.

I blushed.

After a long pause, he motioned for us to make our way into the party. Music blared from an unknown speaker, with some people dancing in the large open room. Even still, it wasn't like what I expected from the movies. My first college party seemed at once underwhelming, nothing like the all-encompassing rendition of Shout or the wild antics of Van Wilder. It was more like the awkward, almost absent-minded shuffling that goes along with a high school dance.

Apparently even students at Maryland are subject to the same insecure social stand-offs. Maybe the party was just getting started, but nothing was really going on. There seemed to be almost a puerile line separating the men and women, with a few notable exceptions. It was as though the residents were waiting for us to introduce ourselves...

"Fuck... we are way too early!" Heather said.

"It's after 11..." I said.

"And I used to be so impressed by you," Heather smirked. "In high school you were too cool to even talk to. Look at you now, ready to turn into a pumpkin at midnight..."

"Heather, can I ask you something awkward?"

"See I hate questions like that," Heather said. "The only way for me to decide if it's too awkward will be after you ask it. Then it's too late."

"Come on!"

"Okay, go ahead."

"Are my nipples too obvious?"

"They are super obvious," Heather said. "Danielle, you might as well be topless."

She didn't say it as though admonishing me. Her tone made the statement almost complimentary. Still, I must have looked dejected, but she rushed to save the sentiment.

"In a good way though," Heather said. "Look around, do you see that slutty cop? Or the cowgirl with assless chaps? It's a frat party."

I looked around the room and saw what she meant. Though I stood out, more than a few girls were testing the bounds of modesty. There were some pretty cool cosplays, a Lara Croft with a chest hugging top, a few Harley Quinn's, even a scantily clad Cameran San Diego. But the winner for the least clothing went to this blonde with a petite frame, dressed as Eve, with only a fake snake draped around her nipples along with a skin colored thong.

"I'm going to say hi to this guy," Heather said. "Will you be okay for a few minutes?"

"Sure..." I said, unconvincingly.

"Just talk to someone," Heather said, before disappearing.

I stood awkwardly for a few minutes; the crowd was really beginning to pick up. Except for a few lovers already grinding up against each other, most were clustered into groups. The UM students put a lot of effort into their costumes, as though it was the focus of their studies. I saw a man dressed up as a Lego man, his face painted yellow. Another woman dressed as a cluster of grapes, wearing nothing except a bunch of purple balloons.

My favorites were two friends, one a tiger, the other a shorter blonde dressed in a striped red shirt, Calvin and Hobbes.

And I just stood there, awkward and alone, completely unlike anything I'd ever been in high school. Here, outside of Baltimore County, only a few miles from DC, I wasn't the prettiest girl for miles around. Yeah, I was still hot. But like most women, I couldn't help constantly comparing myself to every other beauty in the room, especially those who actually put effort into their outfits.

Alone, I felt exposed in more ways than one. I was the outsider, the townie who couldn't hack it academically. It was ridiculous, I know, but every eye seemed riveted on me, glaring at my breasts, judging me. I believed at any moment I would be discovered as another Bawlmer hick, only good enough for eyeful.

Underneath though, something hypocritical billowed up to the surface of my consciousness. Despite my insistence on being known for my brain, I couldn't help but relish in the attention, the quick peeks many of the men would make. I caught a Ninja Turtle staring gape-jawed, meeting his eyes only to have him quickly become very fascinated with the wall.

And I didn't hate it.

Actually, I wanted him to come over and talk to me. He was shirtless, wearing cargo shorts, a blue bandana and a turtle shell backpack. He had a strong jawline, that kind of messy dark brown hair usual in fashion. He looked good, rocking such a simple outfit.

Somehow that made me feel a little better.

If he looked sexy with so little effort, maybe I'd created too much of a double standard for myself. I scanned the crowd, looking for Heather, but finding her seemed impossible given the growing crowd.

"Can I get you a drink?"

I turned and saw the voice belonged to a man dressed in a hastily assembled angel costume. He had wrapped a bed sheet into a kind of toga that showed off his muscular arms. Above his dirty blonde hair was a halo sculpted out of aluminum foil.

"Aren't I supposed to be tempting you?"

"Oh, you're definitely doing that," He said. "I'm Gabriel."

"Isn't that a little on the nose?" I said.

He laughed.

"Not really. This is my work outfit," Gabe said. "I just figured why spend the money."

"Oh of course," I answered. "And here I was, thinking that someone else hadn't bothered to plan their costume."

"It could be worse," Gabe said. "Look at that guy..."

He pointed to the man I saw before, the one who painted his face yellow and put on a construction outfit to look like a Lego man. It was a solid effort overall. Then, Gabe put his hands on my shoulders, moving to show me another man who somehow sculpted an oversized Lego head out of yellow plastic. The same material covered the entire top half of the body, his arms complete with those claw-like hands.

"He's got about ten or fifteen minutes to enjoy the party before he figures out someone tried harder at the same idea..."

We both let out a little laugh.

"So, shouldn't we really be over there?"

I pointed at the nearly naked Eve.

"I could take the left shoulder, you the right."

"I think you already got to her," Gabe said. "But if you are that into having a threeway... I guess I could take one for the team."

"Maybe that's not the threeway I'd be after," I teased. "The two of us could console off-brand Lego Man."

"Yeah, but who knows if he's anatomically correct. We may have a Ken Doll situation."

"Why take the chance?" I said, trying to change the subject.

I looked sexual enough without adding to it by talking about a smutty topic.

"So, do you go to school here?"

"Sometimes," Gabe said. "Other times I sleep in. I live upstairs. I'm guessing by that question you aren't from here?"

"Towson," I said quietly.

"That's smart," He said. "You can save a few thousand bucks a year."

"Yeah..." I said. "I might transfer."

"What's your major?" He said. "I know, I know, two more years and I never have to start a conversation like that."

"It's better than starting by suggesting a threeway," I couldn't help needling him a little.

"Me?" He clasped his hands in prayer. "You're the one thinking of taking two bricks at once."

I laughed, a little uneasy at my own interest in the subject. Without any sort of relationship for the past few years, I'd grown to enjoy a lot of smut online while pleasing myself. Most were things I'd never actually pictured myself talking about, let alone doing.

"So, what do you study," He asked again.

"English," I said.

"Oh, then why bother?" He retorted. "I doubt UM has a better copy of the Canterbury Tales."

"What about you?"

"Biology... a big part of my course work is trying to develop a pick-up line for the major that falls between too nerdy and too easy."

"You're doing okay so far," I said honestly.

"Yeah?" He said.

We both were.

I couldn't believe how well I was managing this kind of confidence. It was as though part of me had reverted to the person I was back at the beginning of high school, minus the bitchiness. I forgot about the outfit, except in those moments when Gabe would chance a glance at my chest. Even then, he wasn't off-putting, never forgetting to make eye-contact.

He made me really enjoy the attention.

At least now I could finally admit it.

We flirted and teased each other, but more than anything I enjoyed his banter. He had this quick wit to him, and I prided myself on how well I kept up. Yes, I was nearly naked, but I didn't feel like he was just trying to fuck me.

I mean - he clearly was.

Who isn't trying to hook-up at a Halloween party?

But the perception matters. I guess I can't really describe it. I know that for some men, walking the line between being too eager and too aloof is an agonizing source of frustration. I also can't say I really speak for most girls on this subject - for me I had only been turning down guys again and again, usually the same guys, from the same town.

Gabe was different.

I liked him.

A lull came into our conversation, and for a moment I was worried he would bolt. Then what might have been an awkward silence was saved by two men who really wanted to start the party. The duo dressed as Calvin and Hobbes made their way out to the dance floor, beginning a series of ridiculously over-emphasized dance moves that immediately eliminated anyone else's fear of looking stupid.

Hobbes spent a few moments dabbing, while Calvin whipped around, pretending to smack his friend on the ass. Then both of them resorted to insanely old dances, doing the mashed potato, their arms jutting down in fists. Then they turned it into a horrible choreographed floss, with Calvin looking at Hobbes to follow his moves. By the time they finished, both holding their noses and diving down, the dance floor had picked up.

Gabe led me out onto the floor. I've never been much of a dancer, so he led. Not that we two-stepped or waltzed or anything. Just that effortless sort of touching and grinding that increased in intensity from song to song. It wasn't as though I was drunk. It was just one of those special evenings where inhibitions are suddenly lowered by the situation.

The bell had struck midnight, and it was as though all at once every princess admitted they were a pumpkin and started enjoying themselves.

There were far more provocative dancers all around me. The naked girl dressed as a grape had four or five guys humping against her balloons. Eve toyed with another man and strategically removed the snake to show green colored pasties covering her smaller breasts. I moved back against my angel, moving my hips against his, feeling a slight bulge from his bedsheet.

I wondered if he was wearing anything underneath.

I encouraged him, moving my butt against him, the thin fabric of my yoga shorts and the bedsheet the only thing between his stiffening cock and my ass cheeks. His hands closed around my hips, pulling me closer as I bent over, almost as though we were simulating fucking.              

In a moment of misplaced modesty, I turned around, my breasts pressing against him, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. He arched his neck, the halo not designed well enough to stay still as he leaned in to kiss me.

For a few moments, we forgot the dance. My head was swimming, electricity moving down to all my extremities. I lost myself in his touch, delicate yet strong. I might have kept making out with him forever had he not moved his hands down to grab my ass.

He was certainly no angel.

Only I didn't care. I wanted him, needed him to take me. I just didn't know how to ask. Or how to make it happen with this charismatic stranger. I needed him to take charge. I spun around, not wanting to see him, letting my body take over. I grinded my ass against his waist. Now there was no denying his hard-on, a sizable length protruding against my ass.

I arched my back, and he nibbled on my exposed neck.

"I want you," He whispered in my ear.

I let out a moan as he worked his lips up to kiss underneath my ear.

"I would fuck you right here, right now, so that everyone could see."

"Oh god..." I said.

I was so wet that I worried about soaking through my yoga pants. I couldn't believe what I was hearing from him, the dominant, confident deepness of his voice. He spoke like a man with experience, someone who might know how to please me better than my vibrator.

More than that, it was exciting. For years, I'd distracted myself with erotica and pornography, taking care of my own needs through a dry spell. As everyone knows, adult entertainment tends to escalate. I couldn't remember the last time I'd read a sweet story about a nice boy timidly charming a nice girl - how boring!

I wanted to be fucked. And I needed it to be exciting. So, while the logistics of being taken right here in the middle of the dance floor seemed overwhelming, part of me really considered pulling down my tight black pants and letting him mount me right there.

He read that in my reactions, escalating his teasing further. One hand moved up to cup my left breast, his finger and thumb tweaking the nipple. The other hand reached down, over my glistening sex. It was still some sort of a dance. At least I was swaying with the music a little. But there was more to it.

Gabe pulled me to him, kissing me over my shoulder, then returning to that spot under my ear. He went further, his hand sliding in between the elastic waistband, moving down to reach inside my pants. If he was surprised at finding no panties underneath, he didn't show it, immediately tracing short little circles around my clit.

"Oh fuck," I breathed.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No..."

I couldn't help myself. He knew what he was doing, repeating a rhythm, building up pleasure from the top of my pussy. I closed my eyes, my hips jutting up against his hand. I bit my lip, my hips rocking against him. He moved faster, his index finger spreading open my lips then diving shallowly into my pussy while his thumb continued to thump against my clitoris.

I let out a stifled scream of pleasure.

I was his.

I rocked up and down on his finger, trying to force more of it inside of me. I had completely forgotten where I was, letting Gabriel work me up in the middle of the dance floor. My head thrashed around his shoulders, my back squirming, him holding me in place. I was approaching my orgasm, ready to cum right there, to throw away the chance that any student attending this party would remember me as anything other than the desperate slut who got finger-fucked in front of everyone.

Only right on the edge, with my pussy aching for release, he went a little too far.

His other hand pulled at the top of my tube top, my boobs bursting free from the thin fabric. It stopped me short of his goal, throwing me out of the moment. Suddenly, I remembered all too clearly where I was. At least a hundred people could see what we were doing out in the middle of the dance floor. I abruptly changed positions, his fingers coming out of my pants as I covered up my exposed nipples.

I focused downward, sliding the top up over my nipples, expecting to look out into the crowd and find a large host of onlookers, horrified and ready to ask me to leave. Instead, I heard a few cheers from a small crowd who had been staring, but nothing else. After a few scattered claps, they moved on, ignoring my existence.

"Whoa, I'm sorry," Gabe said. "I thought you were kind of into it."

"I am - I just..." I tried to find the words. "Can we go somewhere a little more private?"

"Sure, let's head upstairs."

We worked our way up through the crowd, making our way up the stairs. I adjusted myself after the first step, realizing that in the heat of the action, my pants had ridden down. I must have been exposing at least the beginning of my crack with each step, and yet I couldn't quite focus on this embarrassment.

Worse, there were subtle glances from the group that had been so avidly watching every detail of our affection. I couldn't help but walk as though a large letter S was emblazoned on my breasts, believing the entire party knew that this was a casual hook-up with a veritable stranger. These people wouldn't be thinking about how much we connected in the conversation or how hard I'd been working. To them I'd be the stereotype I'd tried so desperately to avoid.

I just didn't care.

I'd been studying my ass for the past few months, and tonight I wanted to show it off. There was a freedom about being in a new city, where no one really knew me, and there's little chance of me having to live down whatever happened here over the next few weeks.

Who knew if I ever was going to see this guy again?

And if not, I'd rather have the memory, even if indulging myself proved a little reckless. I certainly wasn't going to have the college experience at Towson, why not let loose? It was just one night...

That should have made me feel like such a slut.

Instead, the idea of being taken by this charming, albeit nearly complete stranger, spoke to the urges I'd spent most of the semester sequestering. We were so hot and heavy that he barely got the door to his room open. Our lips locked as we moved sideways inside. He nearly threw me onto the twin sized bed, bounding on top of me to renew ravishing my eager body.

Before his lips met mine again, I saw the light peeking through the small door. In his haste, he'd forgotten to latch it completely shut, let alone lock the room. I opened my mouth to speak, only to feel his tongue again in my mouth.

Lost in the moment, I forgot everything but his touch...

He pulled down the red top to nearly my belly button, my bare breasts heaving with every excited breath. His hand grasped one breast, squeezing while sucking on the other nipple. Even my already puffy areolas seemed to swell at the attention. I almost jutted my chest up into him, encouraging every interaction with him to play with my well-sized tits. I let out several moans, desperate for more, wanting both for him to move lower and to keep playing with the most noticeable part of my figure.

Gabe lavished my tits with attention, alternating between each. His fingers explored every inch, tweaking and even touching underneath, holding the heft of each in his hand. I thought he might have continued like that, had I not moved a hand down to the bulge beneath the sheet he pretended was a costume.

He pulled back, disrobing in seconds. His hard-on sprang forward, then almost seemed to swell up in front of me. I couldn't make out everything in the darkened room, but I could see a shadow of it on the wall. He was bigger than most; certainly larger than the guys I fooled around with before. Just looking at the outline was intoxicating. The knowledge that any second I would be impaled on that made me fumble undressing. I had to arch up my ass, getting the too tight garment stuck on my knees, my feet pushed up against him.

He pulled my legs close, positioning them vertically up near his shoulders as he helped pull my pants off my ankles. Now each long leg was spread apart, the balls of my feet resting on his shoulders, spreading my sex open naturally. I wondered if he could see my neatly trimmed pussy, so carefully maintained even without any expectation of this moment.

Thankfully, I heard the tearing of a condom wrapper. With a minimal amount of shame, I realized I hadn't even thought about protection. At least he was thinking for me, and there was a significant comfort in knowing that at least Gabe could be trusted to practice safe sex.

But it surprised me how quickly I had given myself into his power, letting him decide exactly what would happen. Had I not been startled; I would have let him make me cum in front of everyone at the party.

What else would I let him do?

I barely had time to register the thought before feeling the tip of his cock against my lower lips. Despite my arousal, my pussy didn't accept him at first. Instead, the engorged head of his cock simply rubbed back and forth against my opening, trying to find the exact right angle. Just when I thought I would have to change positions, his big dick entered me.

It rushed in all at once, filling me completely. My legs were still up in the air, my calves around his shoulders as he drove into me. I'd never been so full. He went in so deep, slowly stroking himself inside of me, letting me get used to his incredible length. His hands moved to my legs holding me still. I couldn't move, couldn't speak, the best I managed being a soft moan of assent. He moved inside of me quicker, using my legs to force himself in and out faster.

"Oh my god..." I said.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Gabe asked. "You needed someone to fuck your cunt."

I should have recoiled from the word. I'd never actually heard much dirty talk in real life. Even still, it was so much more arousing than hearing "does it feel good?" or "is that okay?" until devolving into guttural groans.

"Tell me," He repeated. "Tell me that you needed someone to fuck you."

"Yes, god yes!"

"Where does it feel good?"

I didn't know what he was getting at, but I went along with everything. I guess he was just more experienced, confident in delivering every line. It didn't matter so much what he said, but rather the command he exuded over me.

"My pussy..." I whispered.

"I can't hear you," He said, slamming hard into me. "Where does it feel good?"

"My pussy!" I yelped. "It feels so good in my pussy!"

"Good girl," He said. "You like this don't you? I think you liked having so many people watch you get fingered on the dance floor. I think you want to scream so loud that everyone knows you're getting fucked."

All I could do was moan. From this position, my legs suspended against him, there was nothing I could do, no way I could move or resist. Not that I wanted to.

The sound of our skin bounced off the walls, echoing across the room, mixing with my moans until they became loud screams that overpowered every other thought. I forget to control myself, letting loose a series of loud cries of lust. My screams and moans, the sound of him sliding into me, created a cacophony of animalistic passion that reverberated through the house.

In one brief moment of lucidity, I realized that anyone walking upstairs would have no doubt as to what was happening in the nearest bedroom. And with a small tinge of shame, I believed that everyone who saw me at the party would have known by the way my tits nearly hung out of my top that I was getting exactly what I deserved.

That I would be that kind of girl, that dressed provocatively and behaved promiscuously, stood out in stark contrast to my normal character. For years I'd tried to suppress the focus on my figure, tonight's change was anathema to everything I'd been working towards. There was no denying what I'd done to debase myself.

Only now, I couldn't care less.

I needed to cum.

He pounded into me, driving deeper with every push. At times, there was a hint of pain when he really rocked into me. But I was so on edge that it didn't matter. If anything, it added a little intensity. I was so close, so desperate, and he seemed to know it. Gabe grinned down at me, hoisting me up by the thighs, hitting exactly the right spot...

My entire body climaxed at once. My back spasmed so hard I thought I would shake and shimmy off the bed. I involuntarily pulled away from him, my shoulders arching, my neck twisting from the most powerful orgasm I'd ever experienced. Still, Gabe pushed forward, holding me, keeping himself still inside of me.

As I continued to shudder, he let me drop. My legs were spread, held by his strong hands, but the position now resembled more of a missionary pose. His mouth moved up to my nipples, giving each a tiny nibble before moving up to kiss me. Already my pussy started another cycle; even by myself one orgasm was rarely enough to sate me. That familiar tingling started again, and I let out a soft cry.

"You just came, didn't you?"

I nodded.

"Tell me how good I made your pussy feel," He said.

"Gabe, you made my pussy feel so good."

I struggled with the words. Talking about sex at all was new to me. The glowing feeling between my thighs the only thing forcing the words out.

"Tell me what your pussy is for," He said.

I was genuinely confused.

"What?"

He pounded into me, adding a certain severity to the question by reminding me so profoundly what we were doing, and what this was doing to me.

"What's your pussy for?"

"I don't -" I stammered, barely able to speak as he drove into me. "I don't know what my pussy..."

Then it dawned on me. But I couldn't quite say it. It was too degrading.

He hammered into me with his dick, increasing his speed as I held onto his back for dear life. He wasn't hurting me, but the constant change of rhythm kept pulling me back from the brink of another climax.

I didn't know if he was doing it deliberately, but he seemed to know just when to stop.

Then he asked again.

"What's your pussy for?"

I opened my mouth but couldn't say it.

"What are we doing now?"

"Fucking..." I muttered quietly.

"What is your pussy for?"

He increased his tempo, nailing exactly right spot inside of me with an uncanny expertise. I started bucking back against him, and it was unclear who was fucking who. Our hips grinded together, connecting in a fitful frenzy of lewd sensuality.

"Tell me," He said. "Or I'll stop again."

He slowed just a little.

"My pussy's for fucking," I whispered.

"Tell me," He said again.

"I'm for fucking!" I screamed.

He went back to the same pace, bringing me to the brink again. And without prompting, I found myself spouting out the same filth about myself.

"God yes, yes! Fuck me!

He pounded against me, bringing me so close to the edge. Every word I spoke now came out so easily, almost without a rational thought.

"I'm for fucking!

Just fuck me!

Make me cum!"

He slammed into me a few more times at the same speed, content that I had admitted these repressed secrets about myself. And as I jabbered out exaggerated admissions of my own lasciviousness, my pussy started clenching against his cock, another orgasm rushing through my body. Swells of ecstasy flowed out to each extremity, both spreading outward and coagulating in the center of my rapidly beating heart.

It would have been easy to chalk up everything I was saying to the heat of the moment. But even then, I knew that wasn't the entire truth. The deepest insecurities usually have some basis in reality. Though in reality, no one would ever mistake me for stupid, the fear that no one would ever find me as smart as I was sexy seemed entirely possible.

Especially if I gave into my deepest, most sinful desires.

Because while the girl being triple-teamed on Pornhub may love every second, while she may be using the money to pay for a master's degree, while she may even spend her weekends learning Dutch and the ukulele; no one cares about anything other than her big titties bouncing between back and forth between dicks on either side.

That's the perception. No one cares about the rest of a slut. And while that's it's fucking shame that she can't be both, it's the fucking world. An unfair double-standard, where no one thinks any less of the guys sharing her.

It's not like anything so intelligent worked its way into my head. At the moment, all I could do was to rationalize my behavior. At times, I needed to be just a brain and just a body...

And I'd been brainy for so long.

He fucked me through the orgasm, holding down my wrists, keeping me in position as I rocked and writhed against him. Gabe didn't quit, and my pussy responded to every movement inside, continuing a repeating ramp-up of lust. I was on the verge of beginning another orgasm, when by chance I turned my head to the side and saw...

The door was open. Not entirely, but enough that I could see a tuft of dark hair peeping through the gap.

"What the fuck?!" I yelled.

I grabbed for a pillow, covering my breasts. But even with my upper torso half-hidden, Gabe didn't stop. He forced me down, my pussy almost instantly keeping me from fighting much. After a few thrusts, his body was pushing down on the pillow between us, his lips kissing me softly before he spoke again.

"Let him watch," he said.

I let out a soft moan.

"I think you want everyone to watch. To see what you dressed up for."

Despite my initial misgivings, my pussy shared none of my puritanical sentiments. I looked over, and watched the other guy move closer. With the light seeping in from the hall, I finally recognized him from earlier. The same Ninja Turtle bandana was still tied to his forehead, his muscles on full display in his shirtless torso.

I still thought he was really hot.

Not that I could keep my mind on much of anything. Driven on by the attention, Gabe renewed his assault on my pussy

"Oh fuck..." I said.

"Turn on the lights."

Suddenly, everything was illuminated. A crowd was gathering in the hallway around the room. I looked away from the shirtless man entering the room, focusing on the walls which were absolutely plastered in red and gold paraphernalia, trying to focus on anything else other than how many people were watching me get fucked.

But I could feel the eyes on my body, the heat radiating from their stares.

My hand drifted to my clit. Despite how good it felt, I wanted more, needing to bring myself over the falls. I started masturbating, most of my arm underneath the pillow, only to have him lightly slap my hand away.

"What are you for?"

"I'm for fucking," I said,

The words struggled out in front of this spectator. I could not believe how quickly he had turned me, teasing me until I behaved like a complete whore, deriding my own existence by claiming no other purpose.

But fuck was it hot.

"What are your tits for?"

"What?"

I didn't understand. I could barely focus.

"You know what! Now tell me, what are those big titties for?"

"For... for fucking?" I stammered,

He pulled all the way out, and for a second my vagina was completely empty. I let out a loud gasp, desperate for his dick, only to scream as he shoved it back in all at once. Another cry of ecstasy, another surrender of any sense of dignity...

My pride was only getting in the way of sex better than I'd ever imagined.

"What are your tits for? I know you're a smart girl. Think!"

That small compliment brought me back around. Yes, this was rough, maybe a little too far, but it reminded me of the banter we shared only an hour ago. He kept still enough inside me, allowing me to formulate some response better than the bare minimum.

"You're for fucking. What are your tits for?"

"My tits make people want to fuck me," I offered up genuinely.

"That's right, that's what everyone wanted to do once they saw your top. And you knew that."

"Yes..." I said, stuttering as he increased his pace.

"You knew that. Tell me what you wanted?"

"I wanted people to look."

"To look at what?"

"My tits. I wanted people to look at my tits."

"Why?"

"Because I'm for fucking!"

I'm screaming, nearing my orgasm only to have him deliberately slow down.

"So, show them," He said. "Show your tits, and you can be fucked."

I couldn't do more than let go of the pillow, letting him wrest it away and throw it across the room. I knew now that everyone could see them, heaving with each thrust. He pulled back, then out of me, leaving me desperate for more. As I reached for my pussy, he held my wrist, spinning me around almost effortlessly.

"On your hands and knees..."

I hesitated, my tits concealed by the mattress, not sure that I could bring myself to be fucked doggy style in front of a stranger. He crept close, near enough to reach out and touch my ass. I looked around, not able to make eye-contact with him and accidentally seeing everyone gathered around watching. The door had swung completely open. Hunched around, brazenly staring, were too many faces for me to count. I looked away, burying my face in the sheets, almost ready to cry.

"They all heard us fucking. They saw how slutty you looked in your costume. And now they want to see more."

His hand reached down, his wrist pushing against my cheeks, those fingers reaching tantalizingly close to my desperate cunt.

"I can tell them to go," Gabe said. "We can stop now... or you can tell me again what you're for..."

I whispered it into the mattress.

"What was that?" Gabe said. "We all need to know."

I pulled my head out of the sheets.

"I'M FOR FUCKING!"

There was a broken sort of pride seeping through my voice, sounding out something freeing in my complete submission. I would have done anything now, so keyed up by his dirty talk. So immediately he read every fantasy I'd ever had and added his own flavor to it. Still, I was a little reluctant, a little unsure of myself as I rose to my hands and knees, presenting myself sideways to the view of the crowd.

But even that wasn't enough.

"Show them," Gabe said. "Show them what you've been teasing them with all night."

Slowly, drawing out every inch, I turned, facing the crowd on the bed.

"Sit up!" Gabe said.

Looking down, I moved to sit down on my ankles. For a brief moment, I held my arms around my chest, catching myself before Gabe could humiliate me. There was no point in hiding, they'd seen most everything already. Still my face turned beet red.

To my surprise, no one said anything. It was as though there was a social faux pas against commenting on the scene.

"Now tell them thank you," He said. "Tell them how much you love other people staring at your boobies."

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"For?"

I said it through clenched teeth.

"Thank you for looking at my tits."

"Good girl," He said. "Now get on your hands and knees."

I obeyed, my large breasts swinging like pendulums as I assumed the position, waiting anxiously for him to fuck me again. I stared down at the sheets, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in the audience.

He moved behind me, slapping my ass several times with his hard-on before shoving it in me again. I let out a sharp cry, using my hands to pump my behind back into him. The sounds of us thwacking together overwhelmed my moans. I continued looking down, trying to focus on my own growing pleasure.

"Look up," He said.

I didn't react fast enough and felt a sharp stinging smack on my ass.

"Look up!"

I looked out into the crowd, my face awash with lust, seeing the eager face of a dozen college students all intent on the action in front of them. With every thrust in front of me, my tits swung back and forth, feeling as though they might actually smack me in the face. My highlighted hair flung all over the place, the devil horns I'd forgotten about finally falling free from my head, allowing stray locks to move all over my face.

Blowing my hair out of my mouth, I looked at the area I'd been avoiding, where the new guy stood. He was clearly masturbating, his hand rubbing himself through the pocket of his jeans.

"Bradley, what are you doing?" Gabe said.

His hand reached up to my hair, pulling it back as he drove into me.

"I-" Bradley started.

"Take it out," Gabe said.

I didn't have time for shock. Another hard thrust made me let out a groan, my face falling forward onto the bed despite the light pulling on my hair. Arched over, Gabe drove down into me, faster and faster.

I looked up from the bed and saw that Brad didn't need to be asked twice. In his hand was a dick not quite as large as Gabe's. Though admittedly nice looking, perfectly proportional without one of those oversized heads or off-colored splotches, here was an actual stranger. Someone who only knew me because I'd been stripped naked and fucked in front of him, nearly shoving his hard cock into my face.

I buried my head into the sheet.

Only Gabe pulled back my hair. Quickly, I was back on my hands and knees again, taking it from behind. Bradley stroked himself, standing only a foot away. Gabe paused inside of me, his cock teasing me as I tried to grind against it, needing another orgasm.              

"What is your mouth for?" Gabe asked.

"Please no..."

"I thought you wanted a three-way?"

"I was joking..."

"Were you? So, you've never watched a threesome? Not in porn? Never read about it?"

I froze, unable to lie.

"That's what I thought. Why let the guys have all the fun? If another girl wanted to join us right now, I'd let her."

I could feel my heart beating in my throat.

"Go ahead. Do it," He said. "I know you want to."

Then he leaned over, his cock driving deep inside of me as he whispered in my ear.

"I won't think any less of you," Gabe whispered.

He was pretty hot, though clearly some inexperienced freshman pledge as in over his head as I was.

"When will you ever get the chance again?"

I raised my neck up.

"What is your mouth for?"

"My mouth is for sucking..." I answered dutifully.

I opened my mouth slightly, enough to signal my reluctant willingness. He didn't need another invitation. One hand aimed his dick into my face, pushing it past my lips and down my throat. I did my best not to gag, but I choked, completely unprepared to so suddenly deep throat him. Realizing my discomfort, he pulled back, giving me a second to take deep frantic breaths before returning his cock to my mouth.

I took over more control now, using my lips to purse around the head, bobbing back and forth to stymie the pace. On the other side of me, Gabe ploughed into me, as hard as he had before. My focus forced between the two ends of my body delayed the pleasure churning up from pussy, propelling me towards passively submitting to anything either of them asked.

There was something so sensual about being wanted by both men. It was so sexy that they would tolerate each other and share me. Clearly Gabe was getting off on some sort of dominant male fantasy. He had turned my breasts, my body, my entire being into nothing more than an object for fulfilling a pornographic scene seared into his erotic imaginings.

But I didn't care.

I wanted both of them.

And it turned me on how both used me in front of anyone who wanted to watch.

I bounced between the two cocks. Gabe pounding my pussy with such a force that I couldn't help but swallow the stranger whole. The two spit-roasted me, my mind now devoted to nothing more than reminders to relax, to accepting the hard thrusts into my pussy, ready to quake with another climax.

Again, it happened, bursting out without warning from my clit, throttling my entire body and suppressing any sense of shame at what I was doing. I lost my ability to continue sucking his cock, letting it fall from my face, my chin bouncing against his balls. I just managed to stick out my tongue, slurping up at his sack while he stroked himself, his shaft rubbing against my nose. Far from sated, I shook back against Gabe, trying to stuff every inch back inside of me, to draw out every piece of pleasure.

I needed more.

I opened my eyes, looking to see a crowd assembled around the door to the room. Men and women watching intently as I was publicly doubled teamed for their amusement. With my climax subsiding, I heard a few comments over my own moans.

"Fuck, what a slut!"

"I can't believe she's taking them both."

And one that stood out.

"Can I be next?"

My pussy and jaw were already tiring. I couldn't imagine another man. Neither could I think about saying no - it was far too late for that. And while I had cum so many times, I found myself needing at least one more.

My mouth returned to his cock, taking him all the way. My nose nestled against his dark pubic hair, greedily gulping down every inch of his shaft. Then I moved back, letting the head of his dick slide out of my mouth with a loud pop.

A trail of spit clung from my lips to my head.

I went back at it, finding a rhythm between the two. Each end seemed perfectly used, balanced between the larger dick sliding in and out of my pussy and the smaller one working its way down my throat.

"God, she feels so good," Brad said.

"She's close," Gabe said. "I can feel her pussy closing about my cock. She's about to cum."

Already he knew my body so well.

"I'm about to cum..." Brad said.

"Me too," Gabe said. "You go first.

"Where should I... you know?"

"It doesn't matter. She'll take it anywhere," Gabe said.

It was strange, surreal to have these two men discussing so matter of factly how they were going to finish using me without even asking my opinion. Even so, I couldn't make myself speak up. Sucking him gave me no physical pleasure, only the act itself combined to form a new image of myself, somehow empowered by giving myself over as an object.

But he was right.

I was completely fixated on being fucked from both ends, ricocheted between competing and contrasting experiences, doing my best to take them both. They could have covered my face, my tits, my ass all in cum.

I wouldn't have cared as long as I got one more orgasm.

"You know, I never even got this slut's name," Gabe said. "But it doesn't matter, she wanted it that bad."

And I realized he was right. He didn't even know who I was - just that I went to a rival school. I should have been ashamed, embarrassed, mortified for accidentally acting like such a whore. But I was relieved, glad that I could indulge in this incredible fantasy without the social consequences of being reviled as a slut.

Tonight, I could be fucked senseless in front of everyone, and no one would say anything tomorrow if I walked a little funny to class, my pussy still sore from a night of wild abandon. In a few weeks, with the alcohol clouding most memories, even the guys at the frat would only fondly reminisce about that gorgeous Towson girl willing to let anyone fuck her.

Hell, they'd probably think all the girls there were like that.

I was just another slut. My naked body was on complete display as I was fucked, my breasts bouncing in full view, then held by Brad as he let me lick up and down his shaft, trying in vain to slow the seed ready to spew up from his balls. He shoved himself back into my mouth, my pussy again so tantalizingly close to cumming...

"Fuck!"

He beat me there.

The first shot struck the back of my throat, barely giving me a chance to taste the flavor. The second stayed on my tongue, overflowing my mouth, making it impossible to swallow. He was a mixture of salty and sweet - not at all bad tasting - but the volume of his load became too much for me to take. I pulled back, his cock falling out of my mouth only for the last few shots to plaster my face with his cum.

Streak after streak landed on my lips, my chin, and the side of my left cheek until all that was left was a little gob that dribbled down the opening in his head. He pushed it forward, my mouth already a complete mess. Yet he wanted more. I stuck out my tongue, semen dripping down onto as I lapped up the last drop.

"Did he cum all over your face?" Gabe asked.

'Yes..."

"What is your face for?"

"My face is for cum..."

"God, I'm gonna cum..."

I gritted my teeth, the last few movements inside of me coming on stronger than ever. For an important moment, my good sense returned. I was on the pill, but I still didn't want to take any chances.

"Don't cum in me," I said, finally asserting myself.

"Okay," Gabe agreed.

The room filled with the loud smacking sounds, his hands grabbing against around my waist, pulling my ass towards him as he neared his own climax. There was a naive part of me that hoped we would cum together - I was so close. Every second, every thrust inside of my vagina, made me believe that the next one would bring me over the edge. I wanted it so bad, yet I could feel myself tiring, needing it all to be over.

"I'm going to cum," Gabe said. "Come here!"

He pulled out of me, leaving me so close that my vagina almost throbbed with anticipation. I let out a loud gasp, my pussy empty, my lips shuddering open and close, trying to clasp around a cock no longer there. As I fell forward, he grabbed my shoulders, rolling me around. With one hand, I propped myself up, moving towards him, unclear as to exactly what he wanted me to do.

He struggled to peel off the condom, pausing and needing to work himself up again.

"What are your tits for?" He asked.

Then I got it.

"My tits are for cum," I said.

My hand moved down to my clit, my fingers rubbing across my hot and bothered sex. I got up on my knees, my large breasts nearly touching his dick as he stroked himself. The lower half of my face was still a mess, cum smeared and dripped down my neck.

"Tell me..."

"Cum on my tits," I said.

Then he really got into it, willing out the last few strokes, his fist touching my nipples.

"This is what you wanted wasn't it? Someone to fuck you. To use you then unload all over those tits? Everyone is going to see. You're going to show them before you cum. You're going to show everyone what your tits are-"

His last few words disappeared into a heavy, raspy breath. I looked down and watched his cock begin to twitch, ejecting a long rope of ejaculate that struck me first across the neckline, draping down to touch the first slope of my right boob. He aimed better, coating each with this creamy finale. He made sure to spread each shot out, helping his friend paint the top half of me in a glossy white spectacle for everyone to enjoy.

The last squirts of cum he squeezed out of the tip, deliberately dribbling a little on each of my nipples.

"Now show everyone how pretty your tits look," He said, nearly out of breath. "Then you can cum."

I turned, adjusting my angle so that everyone hovering around the door could see the semen plastered down from my chin to the bottom of my boobs. Completely exposed, displayed and taken, I looked out at them. Not into anyone's eyes, seeing only the mass of faces transfixed, sharing in my lust.

Their collective gaze was enough to make me brim with new excitement. My hand drifted down to my pussy, two fingers brushing a familiar pattern that brought me to a crescendo of orgasmic bliss. In many ways, that last climax almost came muted, almost transcendent, like I was watching some stranger making me do these things.

Added to this was that well-worn feeling of being freshly used. My legs wobbled, my jaw a little swollen, my pussy tender; all combining into a paralyzing refractory period.

I blinked, almost startled awake, suddenly all too aware of what had happened. I closed my thighs, pulling my knees to my chest, feeling the droplets of two men's cum spreading across them. My eyes darted around, a tired sort of self-consciousness replacing my lust.

Now that it was over, it was just too awkward.

What the fuck was I supposed to say?

I grabbed my clothes and bolted out of the room, ignoring Gabe as he called after me.

*****

The other nice thing about being covered in cum is that people sure move out of the way quickly. One of the guests, the girl dressed as the bunch of grapes, even pointed me to the bathroom. There I quickly wiped myself off, throwing on my costume before running down the stairs and out the door.

I took an Uber home at an obscene cost.

It was better than explaining myself to Heather. Instead, I just texted her that I'd met some guy and hooked up with him. Over the next few days, she pressed me for details. I stuck to the bare outlines of the story, making up some bullshit about going back to his apartment.

Though I'd already masturbated thinking about it a half dozen times, I left out the part about being double-teamed in the bedroom.

Not that she didn't hear.

Actually, she kept bringing it up.

"I can't believe I missed it!" Heather said to me over the phone. "They're calling it the Transamerica Tower..."

She waited, I guess for me to laugh.

"You know, like an Eiffel Tower? Apparently, the girl was from Baltimore and they..."

"I get it," I said.

"I never get to see anything interesting," Heather said, staying on the subject.

"You call that interesting?"

"Don't you? I'd love to have two guys at once. Maybe even three," Heather said. "And one of them was quite the stud. Gabe Lewis is friends with my brother. I always kind of had a crush on him..."

"Really?" I said, the words forming a nervous lump in my throat.

"Yeah, John brought him home for Thanksgiving once. He lives out of state and..."

The conversation continued, Heather rambling on about Gabe, not recognizing that I already knew him too well. A few minutes later, I got off the phone. I should have been studying, but I couldn't help. I opened up Facebook.

One message.

I opened the tab with an audible gasp.

Dear Danielle,

I wish you hadn't run off so quickly, though I think I understand. I pushed things a bit too far. I got too into my own dirty talk and thought you were enjoying things as much as me.

I'm sorry.

I thought we had a real connection. And if I can be a little crass, similar interests. I'd like to see you again. No threesomes or foursomes, at least not until we get to know each other better and have a chance to define boundaries. You know, like decent upstanding pillars of the community...

That is, assuming our sex on Halloween Night is running on repeat in your imagination.

You are in mine,

Gabe

PS - Though I would never kiss and tell (more of a show and tell kind of guy) Heather may have already figured you out when I asked about the hot devil from Baltimore. Don't worry... she's a good friend.

In spite of myself, I let out a laugh.

I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, unsure of what to do. I got up early the next morning, blinking repeatedly through bleary eyes as I tried to open up a page on Blackboard. Instead I found myself clicking back on the message.

Dear Gabe...