Dirty, Sexy, Taboo (The Ultimate Collection)

by Andria, Alexx

  “You’re more than just a cum-slut, aren’t you, Lindsey,” he stated as if he knew me. And somehow he did. “You need more than just cock. You need discipline.”

  Oh God, he was right. Cocks weren’t enough. I’d been fucked over and over but it was never enough to truly satisfy. I whimpered, almost ready to beg for it, but I held my tongue.

  “You need someone to direct you, to guide you. Oh, you like cocks all right. And you’re good at fucking but what is it all for without the right motivation?” he asked, shocking me with his role reversal. What happened to the reluctant gangbanger? Had it all been an act earlier? I quivered at the exciting thought of this secret side I’d never imagined the quarterback possessed.

  No one could hear what he was saying to me, the din had become a riot. In their fevered arousal, some had taken to fucking each other in the ass. It was a carnal fuck-fest that I’d incited and the knowledge inflamed me further. The groans filled the room. Teammates were double-teaming each other and it was a beautifully arousing panorama of fucking.

  Nick pinched my clit and I nearly came. The startling touch on my engorged and swollen little pierced nub almost made me drop to my knees and beg to suck his cock. Anything! Please!

  “I said hands on ankles,” he reminded me, and I rushed to comply. Only I wasn’t quick enough and a stinging slap was my punishment. I blinked back the rush of tears but soon my tears were replaced with groans as Nick’s fat, thick cock pushed into my wet pussy until he was balls deep. I’d never felt so much cock in my life. It felt as if he and I were one. I didn’t know where I stopped and he began. I could barely breathe. And it was fucking amazing!

  Nick’s cock filled me to the point of no return. I’d never be right for another cock again. And he’d known it! I jerked against his rod, unable to stop the moans that fell from my mouth with each hard thrust. The head of his cock rubbed my G-spot with unerring accuracy — so much so that all I could do was move mindlessly against that wonderful pleasure point, grinding against his rod with each pound. “Yessss!” I groaned. “Please, yes!!!”

  “Please what?” he queried tightly, never slowing as he pounded into me, owning me. “Please what, Lindsey?”

  “Please fuck me,” I gasped. “Do whatever you want!”

  “Is that my pussy?” he asked, grunting. “Mine to do with whatever I want?”

  “Yes! God yes,” I cried, this time the tears were of pure pleasure. I no longer heard or saw the rest of the fucking in the room. I was no longer in control. Somehow I’d gone from the aggressor to the subdued. “Please Nick…”

  “Can you handle this?” he demanded, his voice becoming tight with barely restrained lust. He was close to blowing and the fact that I managed to get him there, sent me hurtling closer to the brink of that elusive O. A crescendo of pleasure threatened to drop me to my knees, but I held onto my ankles, taking every blessed inch of his throbbing cock deep inside me. “Say it,” he ground out, the words barely making it past his lips.

  “It’s your pussy,” I gasped, crying out as the first wave hit me like a tsunami. Another hit and my knees threatened to buckle. Holy shit. Holy fuck. H-O-L-Y motherfucking hell! I came so hard everything blurred before me. I lost sight of where I was and what day of the week it was. All that mattered was Nick’s cock buried deep inside me. I rocked against him as he thrust over and over into my dripping hole. He was lubed by his teammate’s cum and that should’ve been the element that turned me on the most but none of that mattered anymore. It’s what I’d wanted when I’d walked into that room but now Nick was everything.

  I existed for his pleasure. I’d gladly become his locker room whore if he asked.

  A low rattled groan escaped his lips and with one final thrust he filled me like the little cum-slut I was. With little jerks, he continued to squirt inside me, bathing my insides with his juices, causing me to come all over again in soft, sweet waves. I collapsed and he withdrew.

  I came to my senses and realized it was just me and Nick. The team had left. He held out his hand, his gaze assessing. I accepted his help and climbed to my feet on wobbly legs.

  I didn’t know what to think or say. I waited for him.

  “From now on, you’ll only suck the cocks I offer you,” he said, shocking me with his authoritative tone. He continued without my consent. He knew it wasn’t necessary. He could probably read it in my eyes. “You’ll do whatever I tell you, without question.”

  “And if don’t?” I dared, holding my breath.

  He narrowed his gaze and came down on his haunches, his nearly limp, but still monstrously big dick dangling almost to the floor. “Then you’ll be punished, Lindsey,” he promised in a darkly silky tone that caused the breath in my chest to hitch. I nodded my understanding. At my acquiescence a benevolent smile lit up his face and once again he was that guy I first saw on the football team, and gently helped me to my feet. I marveled at the sweetness in his touch, wondering what was happening to me…

  “So no more gangbangs?” I surmised with a touch of open disappointment. I was still a raging slut after all. That much hadn’t changed. He touched my cheek softly and grinned.

  “Oh, I didn’t say that,” he corrected me. “Only you’ll get it when and where I say. And why is that?” he prompted, testing me.

  I straightened and actually blushed as I answered softly, “Because it’s your pussy?”

  He smiled and hooked his arm around me. “That’s right.” His fingertips teased my left nipple and I groaned. He chuckled. “Soon. There’s a party after the game on Friday. I think I’ve just found my date.”

  I wasn’t complaining — stranger things had happened in my life — but I think I’d just snagged a boyfriend…of sorts.

  And suddenly, I was looking forward to this party. College was, by far, so much better than high school!

  P.S. I Fucked Your BoyfriendBy Alexx Andria

  To be fair, the bitch had it coming.

  Never underestimate an underdog with a hot rack and a stiffy-inducing body because that underdog will chew your ass up and fuck your boyfriend without thinking twice if you push hard enough.

  And that’s exactly what happened when Sarah B. thought she was hot shit on a cold stick and dared to mock me just because I was smarter than her and guys flocked to me like bees to fucking honey and it made her jealous. I was like, get over it, bitch. Life moves on, you know? There’s one essential truth about life that I learned early on, there’s always someone younger, prettier, and smarter than you. You can either let it ruin your day or move the fuck on. I’m a smart girl, so I rarely let that stuff bother me. But it seemed Sarah B…well, let’s just say she wasn’t accustomed to sharing the spotlight and decided to fuck with me. Big mistake.

  Let me set the stage.

  I was a freshman at Vernon University and she was a senior. We clashed the moment we laid eyes on one another. It was the blond bombshell versus the brunette babe (the brunette being me) and joy of all joys, she was my assigned “buddy” for the week, — you know, the senior who was supposed to be nice and show me the ropes of college life — but she took one look at my tight body and must’ve realized I was serious competition so she made it her mission to make my life hell that first week.

  I was a good sport at first.

  That is, until she crossed the line.

  I won’t go into specifics because it’s not necessary but if you’re truly curious, all I can tell you is that my naked ass can be found on about 2,000 camera phones after she took me to a frat party and dosed my drink. No, I wasn’t raped — Jesus, what the hell kind of story do you think I’m telling here? — but Sarah B. did enable a couple of frat boys to see and photograph all my goodies without my permission. So, yeah…the bitch was gonna pay.

  But the question was, what was the best revenge? The truly uninventive would’ve went with simply trashing her on campus and boo-hooing to her sorority mom about her bad behavior but that wouldn’t have gotten me far. For one, everyone believed she was
a damn angel because she volunteered at an old folks home but I wondered how angelic they’d think she was if I’d revealed that the only reason she tended to those drooling fossils was because she was also robbing them blind? Yeah, well, the idea was tempting but it didn’t truly satisfy. I mean, that bitch really embarrassed me and worse, she was damn smug about it. She’d walk by and snicker as she gave me that look that said, “I know what you look like naked and, girl, you ought to keep that covered up!” just to mess with my head.

  So when I discovered that she had a really hot, very rich, and very pussy-whipped boyfriend who thought the sun rose and set in her blue eyes, I knew I’d acquired my target.

  Sarah B. was pretty confident in her belief that she was going to be the next socialite-on-the-Beverly Hills-scene because she already treated the poor guy like her personal ATM machine and he seemed to buy into her bullshit, too, handing over the Benjamins whenever she did her thing, which was often enough to keep her dressed in the latest designer clothes and driving a pretty nice ride.

  Honestly, it was almost too easy — I ‘d been breaking up cozy couples since junior high — but I knew losing her little Sugar Boy would really fuck with her plans so I worked setting up the trap.

  Amateurs to this game would assume that the hard part is getting the guy to fuck you — however, that’s the easy part — the truly hard part is getting the sorry sap to actually fuck you and leave the chick for you.

  It’s a double-whammy of emotional bitch-slapping that only the truly experienced can pull off.

  First, I needed to know what made the guy tick, so I set up a little recon.

  Boyfriend AKA Bradley Isaacs, was a real fanatic when it came to airsoft guns. I mean, he liked to run around like some commando on speed shooting at people with fake guns. It was kinda juvenile but a little cute how into it he got and frankly, I wasn’t looking to marry the guy so each to his own. I had a younger cousin who was really into the stuff, too, so I asked to give me a crash course on the hobby and then borrowed one of his cooler guns.

  Then, I approached Bradley with a supposed problem with my gun (cuz guys love it when girls seem all helpless, you know?) and the trap was set.

  He took the bait — hook, line and sinker.

  “Your problem is you have a screw loose in the pistol grip,” he said, handling my airsoft version of the M4.

  “Damn,” I said softly, seemingly irritated at my ignorance. “So simple. I was afraid I was losing my favorite gun.”

  He seemed impressed. “That’s a lot of gun for a small girl,” he noted, his gaze skimming my petite frame and resting on my big tits. I smothered a triumphant grin. It was almost too easy.

  “Don’t let the package fool you,” I said with a coy grin. “I can take a lot.”

  “You play competitively?” he asked.

  “Now and then when I can fit it into my schedule. It’s a great way to let off steam, you know?”

  “Absolutely,” he agreed. “That’s what I’m always trying to tell my girlfriend but she doesn’t get it. She’d rather get her nails done or something. Guess it’s true…opposites attract, right?”

  “Sometimes,” I said. “But then, sometimes it’s nice to do things that you both like, you know?”

  “Yeah,” he said, trying hard not to stare at how my deep-V top gave him an obscene view of the rounded tops of my boobs. Not to brag, but I have porn star breasts without the silicone treatment. They were high and perky — thank God for good genetics — but big and firm. Once when I dabbled in the escort service business, a Japanese businessman offered me a lot of money to be his personal breast whore. He wanted to do all sorts of nasty things to my tits. It was fun at first, but I bore easily and his cock wasn’t big enough to hold my interest, not even for the amount of money he was offering. Plus, I didn’t fancy the idea of moving to Japan either. “So, maybe if you were down, we could play sometime?”

  “I’d love to play,” I said, adding just enough suggestion to my voice to make him wonder. “I’m down for all sorts of things…”

  He swallowed hard, the bobbing motion of his Adam’s apple giving away his interest. But he wasn’t a cheater by nature, otherwise he’d have countered with an equally suggestive comment that would’ve set in motion a time and a place to get freaky but instead my thinly veiled suggestion had him nervous — and turned on.

  Players were easy to play, but the mostly noble…they could be a challenge.

  A challenge for the less experienced, of course.

  “I have a girlfriend,” he blurted, his cheeks reddening in an adorable fashion. I hadn’t noticed before but now that he’d caught my interest, I realized he wasn’t half bad in the looks department. He had the jock build — wide, muscular shoulders from years of athletic training, a nicely trim stomach and tapered hips — but a sweetness about him that usually got leached out sometime in high school with his type.

  “I’m not looking for a boyfriend,” I said, smiling innocently. “Just someone to play airsoft with who isn’t a total jerk, you know?”

  He seemed both relieved and disappointed and I chuckled inside. “Yeah, it’s a guy thing. But the girls who play are kinda hot, too, so I bet you get hit on a lot.”

  I shrugged. “I can handle myself. So, what do you shoot with?” I asked, seeming as if I were eager to return to the topic.

  His eyes lit up as he answered, “Depends. My favorite gun is my Magpole M4 but I really enjoy the MP5 because of the high rate of fire. It’s bomb. I tricked it out pretty nice, too.”

  “I’d love to see it,” I murmured, seeming excited. “Sounds hot.”

  “Oh yeah, I mean, there’s others out there that people may argue are better but I’m sentimental about this one.”

  “Why?”

  “It was the first gun I ever successfully modified on my own. I pieced it together from nothing. It was pretty cool.”

  “Nice,” I said appreciatively. “I’d love to see it.”

  “Sweet,” he said, grinning. “Come by my place and I’ll show it to you.”

  He scribbled his address on a piece of scrap paper from his backpack and handed it to me. “Awesome. How about tomorrow?” I asked.

  “I have an analytics class in the morning but I’m free after eleven.”

  “Perfect. Will your girlfriend be there?” I asked.

  “No, she hates when I talk about airsoft. She says it’s stupid and immature. But it’ll be nice to be able to share it with someone who gets it.”

  I smiled. Oh, he was going to get it, all right. And he was going to love it.

  ***

  I showed up at his apartment dressed skimpily enough for the summer weather, but not so slutty that I was obviously trying to seduce, and brought my “guns” that I borrowed from my cousin.

  “You came,” he said, his expression breaking into a surprised smile as he ushered me in and closed the door. “To be honest, I thought you were going to bail.”

  “Why?” I placed my gun case on the coffee table carefully with a frown.

  “Well, girls like you aren’t usually into this sort of thing.”

  “Girls like me?” I asked, confused.

  He flushed. “Hot.”

  I laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Listen, my cousin got me into it and I liked it. I don’t know, maybe I was a sniper in a past life and this satisfies some latent itch.”

  He seemed to like that idea. “Or maybe you were some warrior huntress…”

  I arched my brow at him and he blushed a little. “Okay, maybe that was a bit much…my girlfriend is always saying that I need to stop when I’m ahead.”

  I smiled, already weary of hearing about what his girlfriend had to say about anything. She was a bitch and frankly, she treated Bradley like shit so, it was time to up my game.

  “Are you going to show me what you’ve got?” I asked, deliberately allowing my gaze to linger on his groin, before settling my attention on his face.

  There was no mistaking h
is interest. In fact, it was almost painfully obvious that he was struggling big time with his conscience. My guess was that prissy Sarah B. kept her sugar boy in line with the power of her pussy. The poor guy probably had the worst case of blue balls in the history of Vernon U. Time to take chance…

  “Bradley, can I be honest with you?” I asked, moving toward him, my gaze holding his without breaking.

  “Sure,” he said, his voice a throaty, almost pained murmur, as if he were afraid I was going to eat him up, yet the idea excited him.

  “You’re yummy,” I said, pulling the hem of my tight shirt up and over my head to reveal my tits that were barely restrained by my white bra. His eyes bugged at the swelling mounds of sweet flesh overflowing the cups and he swallowed hard but he didn’t tell me to get the hell out. That was a good sign; a greenlight, in my opinion. I smiled and wiggled out of my tiny shorts, revealing barely-there thong panties covering my soft and bare pussy and sliding up my ass crack. “Do you like what you see?”

  “God yes,” he groaned before he could stop himself. “B-but…”

  “Shhhh,” I crooned, advancing. “I know about your girlfriend. I know she doesn’t treat you right. I know that you deserve better than a frigid society bitch who gets off by ordering you around.”

  “She’s not like that,” he offered a weak protest, his eyes glazing at the sight of my full rounded hips and tight waist. “She…”

  “She’s not…” I wrapped my arms around him, murmuring seconds before my lips descended on his, “here.” Within a heartbeat, he groaned into my mouth, his tongue delving in to tangle with mine. His arms tightened around me and I could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against my belly. He felt nicely shaped, big enough for a good time by any standard, and I was getting wet from the anticipation of feeling it slide into my pussy. It’d been a few weeks since I’d enjoyed a little action — college expectations were a bitch — and I was horny as hell. Our breathing mingled as one as our kissing became more intense. He had some good technique — likely wasted on Sarah B. — and I couldn’t wait to see what he did with that tongue on my clit. “Let’s see what’s behind door number one,” I teased, sliding down his body to unbutton his khaki golf shorts and jerk them down to his knees. His cock sprang from his boxers, tenting the material as it strained like a wild beast eager to be free. I molded the fabric around the shape of his erection and smiled my approval. “Someone’s got a nice, fat cock hidden behind those tacky country club shorts,” I said, grinning as he blushed, but his tongue slid along his bottom lip as he urged me to pull it out. I slowly obliged, revealing his cock as if it were a present just for me. I exclaimed when I saw the girth and the slightly curved rod. He was going to be just right for hitting my G-spot and I shuddered in delight.