by Ivana Shaft
Mr. Smith quickly follows me, climaxing with a loud grunt that I thought somehow managed to echo, but I dimly realize the extra grunt came from Coach Campbell coming at the same time inside Sarah.
I glance in their direction as Mr. Smith collapses on top of me, and Sarah and I lock eyes and smile, Coach Campbell’s firm butt still clenched with his final thrust into Sarah’s pussy.
3
Insatiable
Daphne
After a few moments of recovery, I notice Sarah indicating that I follow her now that she’s free from Coach Campbell’s masculine clutches.
I wriggle myself from underneath Mr. Smith, flashing him a shy smile as I disentangle to follow her to the nearest bathroom.
“Holy fuck!” I say as I close the door behind us.
She’s already working on the shower spray, testing the temperature.
“Amazing, right?” she says, her face joyous, and I can’t help but babble.
“Fuck yeah! Oh my god, I can tell I’m gonna be sore, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be mad at me if you saw how attracted I was to him, but once you mentioned the two of you ‘experimenting’…”
“I’m stoked you were our first ‘experiment,’” she thankfully interrupts. “Something tells me we could keep doing this; I was so turned on watching you two! And oh my god, Coach Campbell’s strokes…” She fans herself dramatically.
I know what she means—I was watching, and it was like a live porn clip dream come true. “I saw the way he was digging into you and believe it or not, got a bit envious!”
She bursts into laughter and I join her, although what are we laughing at? Nothing was at all funny about what just happened. I guess it’s just afterglow joy making us both silly; what just happened was more than just satisfaction.
“Seriously, he looked like he was really working it,” I say, my mind flashing back to the way Coach Campbell was driving into Sarah. “Not to say Mr. Smith wasn’t, ‘cause he sure as hell was. Gentle and hard at once—I don’t know how else to describe it. Either way, it was great—the perfect way to lose my virginity.” I pause for a moment, feeling a bit weird about what I was about to say next, but it had to be said. “Thanks, Sarah,” I say, truly grateful she let me in her world this way.
“Thank you. I finally got to fuck Coach Campbell’s fine ass.”
I burst into laughter this time.
The coach is definitely one fine specimen, and wouldn’t you know it? My greedy pussy would be happy to take him on too—as soon as it can open again for business.
“What are you guys going to do now?” I ask Sarah, beginning to soap off as she stands underneath the warm spray.“Back to normal until the next object of lust or…?”
“Probably something like that. He and I sort of agreed to go just one round with our chosen ‘objects’…”
“So…I can hop on Coach Campbell next?” I ask a bit too quickly.
“Have at it. I heartily recommend it!”
We giggle again.
Then all of a sudden, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, we start soaping each other off.
I’m stoked to have gone through with the pact to lose my virginity, and now that getting my cherry popped is out of the way, I feel a bit lighter.
The pressure’s off, and the satisfaction of being fucked has lasted a while, leaving a slight smile on my face straight up until bedtime.
I probably even smiled through my sleep—especially since I had dreams of a scenario where Coach Campbell takes me next.
There I was, back at my old high school after hours for some reason. The grounds were completely empty, but I was searching for something—it never became clear what—with intense desperation. I checked my old locker (completely empty), then headed to the girls’ locker room.
Before I could begin searching around, the door suddenly slammed behind me, and I turned to see Coach Campbell standing there with glittering green eyes, completely naked—his hard cock jutting from his sculpted masculine body, grabbing all of my attention.
The next thing I knew, he had stalked toward me and yanked my top off, leaving my breasts bouncing free, my nipples taut.
Then he hiked my skirt up to pull my underwear down, but I conveniently wasn’t wearing any.
He laid me down on my back on the nearby bench, planting his muscular body between my legs, then guided his long dick to my wet opening.
He shoved his stiff penis inside me with one hard thrust, then rode me hard and fast on that bench, relentlessly grinding against my slim body.
In reality, I have days and days of break time left, and there’s no way I’ll spend them without getting another hard cock inside me.
Preferably, I’d like to get fucked every day—it’s better to keep doing it so the pain of being newly spread goes away and there’s nothing but pleasure, right?
So I’ll make sure to get my inexperienced pussy used to taking hard cock.
Lucky for me, Coach Campbell left me his number…
END
Thanks for reading! :)
* * *
Check out more stories in The Virgin Pact series starring Daphne’s college friends:
* * *
- CLAIMED BY MY BOYFRIEND’S DAD
- FILLED BY MY BANDMATES
- OUR SMASHING REVENGE
- TAKEN BY MY BEST FRIEND’S DAD
* * *
You can grab them all in one bundle!
Visit Ivana Shaft’s author page for her full catalogue!
About Ivana Shaft
Ivana Shaft writes about young women seeking to be plowed by older men.
Sometimes her erotic shorts are quick and dirty, and sometimes they're a bit longer, but they always get to a climax! ;)
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Contact:
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A Welcome Intruder
Anita Swirl
SYNOPSIS
Hottie Kira is looking for adventure and fun now that her latest raise has resulted in disposable income. She finds more than she bargained for when she decides to attend a storage unit auction on a whim and runs into a gorgeous, blue-eyed fellow bidder. She battles with the hunky stranger for a unit, and when she wins the battle, he decides to turn it into a war. Later that night, she finds herself facing down the defeated hottie in her bedroom, and he has come for more than just the contents of that unit!
Copyright © 2015, Anita Swirl
Sneak Peek
Kira
…Please, please, please don’t stop, I think, but I still have a tiny shred of dignity left. I refuse to beg. Refuse!
“Do you want me to touch you, Kira?”
I nod my head vigorously.
I know he’s smiling that infuriating smile, but I don’t care—get those man-hands on my body now!
I’d prefer he start at my core, but he has decided to torture me, it seems, and he begins with my face, brushing my cheeks with his fingers again.
I can’t believe such a light, tiny movement can spark so much in me.
“You’re so soft, Kira,” he says, then places a peck on my lips.
I try to grab his mouth to keep his lips on mine and fail—the kiss was too light and quick.
His mouth finds my neck and I buck a little at the contact there, the jolt it sends through me.
My body is already strung so tight, my nerves all worked up, and he is working me up even more with his feathery, teasing touches, leaving me panting and gasping.
His hands find my breasts, and all I can do is moan as he cups them and brushes my aching nipples with his thumb.
He is so infuriating!
Grab them with your mouth! I want to say, and I smile to myself as I feel him lift my nightdress up.
Unfortunately, considering my arms, it can’t be lifted completely off, so it ends up over my face, blocking what little vision I had.
I can’t see the silhouette of his head as he brings his mouth
down to my chest, but I feel his lips take one breast, then the other.
I am slowly losing it.
He gets his fill of my fleshy globes and I feel his mouth skimming the surface of my abdomen as he makes his way down.
He stops to kiss my waist, his mouth brushing the top and sides and making me twitch at the jolts of electricity there.
“Please,” escapes me in a pitiful whisper, and I am too worked up with raging desire and need to be properly mortified at finally begging…
1
Sasha
I added a lot of weird things to my bucket list this year, and after receiving a call from a friend and coworker, I realized I suddenly had a chance to do one of them.
See, I saw this reality show where people bought the contents of abandoned storage units, and in the back of my mind I was like—I’d like to do that one day and see if I can get one. You never know what you’ll find!
Either way, lost treasure or not, it seemed like a fun thing to do.
Sure, it’s probably unfortunate for whoever lost possessions they’d paid monthly to try to keep, but finders keepers, baby; your loss, my gain.
It’s not that I’m indifferent to someone else’s plight, it’s just that, well, shit happens.
For all I know, instead of losing their home or whatever, the owner passed, and…well, Circle of Life, my friend; reduce, reuse, recycle.
Anyway, my friend gave me a heads up about an auction popping up in my neck of the woods, and since I’ve been saving and investing like a good girl, I gave myself a ‘fun’ allowance, so I’m pretty sure I can outbid anyone.
This whole thing is just for kicks mostly, although I’m mildly interested in the possibility of discovering something major.
As the day nears, I research and learn as much as I can about the whole thing, checking out more TV episodes about it to try to learn strategies, etc., but overall, I’m trying not to take the whole thing too seriously.
If I find something of value and I’m able to make my money back or even hit the jackpot, great!
If I lose a little but get some sort of entertainment from my finds, that’s fine too.
I sure as hell didn’t plan to find a juicy hunk of a guy among my fellow bidders.
Yes, I’ve been single for a while, too busy with work and not much time for dating, so I was almost at the stage where almost anything could look like a juicy steak to me since I hadn’t been held by a man (much less anything else) in a bit, but this guy was certifiably hot in a totally objective way.
I almost rubbed my eyes—I couldn’t believe such a specimen was so near me!
My body suddenly went on alert—nipples at attention, mouth probably slightly open in arousal, my heart speeding up a little as my whole body pretty much went into heat.
I immediately felt extremely feminine and tiny near him, and that’s quite a feat because I’m tall—five feet nine inches, flat-footed.
The fact that this guy pretty much towers over me means he’s really tall—six and a half feet at least.
His skin has a healthy tan, and his muscles keep drawing my eyes to them like a flashlight beam to a cat.
His eyes are a clear, gorgeous blue, and he has thick, wavy dark hair.
He’s probably in the same age range as me—mid to late twenties.
Either way, the guy looks like a real-life Superman, and I’m wet in no time, stirred by his beautiful masculinity.
Damn this man—I haven’t even thought about sex in weeks.
By the time my eyes finish their journey traveling down his body, and start to make their way back up, a movement of his chest catches my attention and makes me look into his gorgeous chiseled face again, and I am almost blinded by his white-teethed grin.
How could his smile be so gorgeous too? And with dimples on the sides? That jaw, those cheekbones…
I finally realize he is laughing at me drooling at him, and I find myself getting mad and looking away.
How rude! You don’t laugh at someone admiring you like that.
My cheeks suddenly feel super-hot as blood floods them and I blush.
I have a medium-brown complexion, but the blush is so furious, I’m sure he sees it.
And yeah, I can feel his eyes still on me; he is probably still grinning at my expense.
Asshole.
Sometimes, attractive people who display nasty attitudes end up getting docked a point or two by me, so they’ll end up going from a nine or ten to a seven or something once their ugly personality warps my perception of them.
But this hunk—he’s still ridiculously attractive when I sneak a glance back at him.
Fuck him and his gorgeous male perfection!
He is oozing testosterone too—you know how some people emanate nearly tangible raw masculinity or femininity? Like they’re beaming it at you via some mutant ability. Like the heat from a raging fire—you can’t see the heat, but you need to back the fuck up if you want to escape it.
Every time my mind flashes back to this guy I’ll probably get wet, reliving his alpha male energy.
Too bad after this auction I won’t see him again.
Then again, why would I want to run into this jackass again, except to feast my eyes on his beauty and drink him in like unexpected water in a desert?
He’d only laugh at me some more.
Once the group gets going, I get distracted by this new experience.
I’m super interested and curious at first about every little thing about the auction, but most of the units end up looking pretty boring to me, and I haven’t been moved to bid on a single one.
I’ve been doing a fairly good job of keeping my eyes off of Mr. McHottie, and I suddenly realize he hasn’t bid on a unit yet either—only because I realized I didn’t know what his voice sounded like.
Boy, I hope he sounds like a bird or an eight-year-old boy or something—something pathetic and emasculating so I can laugh at his rude ass too.
When we come to the next unit, immediately it’s like something has called out to me from the inside of it, even while it’s still closed.
That call doesn’t cease once it’s finally opened.
My eyes greedily take in the insides.
We’re not allowed to go inside and check out the contents thoroughly—we just have to go on faith to some degree, off the tip of the iceberg that we do see.
I don’t spot anything particularly captivating, but my gut practically screams at me that this is the one—this is the storage unit I had come for all along, and that I should bid on it until I’ve won.
I’m not sure where to start, and after the starting bid is thrown out, I sort of wait to see who else wants it and how far they’re willing to go.
Suddenly I hear a deep, golden sort of voice, and I realize Superman is bidding.
Ha!
Even if my gut hadn’t spoken to me, I would have started bidding for spite, so I finally jump in.
Soon, it’s just him and me going back and forth.
I have no intention of slowing down, and I watch his face with utter glee as it is transformed more and more by disappointment.
Finally, he gives up.
Haha! Sucker.
“Sold to Kira for three thousand smackeroos,” the auctioneer says—although not quite in those words—and I am grinning wide.
I’m crazy—that was way too much to spend on some regular-ass looking shit, but I feel more satisfied with myself than I’ve felt in a while.
I got way too much joy out of that; I probably look like a cat that swallowed a canary.
Mr. Bedroom Eyes shoots me a dirty look and I meet it with my best smile, happily looking forward to exploring my new possessions and wishing for another opportunity to rub it in his face.
What the hell caught his eyes about that particular boring-ass unit anyway?
“So you won that round, huh?” a sexy male voice says, and I turn toward it, knowing exactly who I’d find looking at me.
“I wasn’t awa
re we were in a ring? How many more rounds to go?” I ask, widening my eyes to look as innocent as possible.
I probably just end up looking like a sarcastic bitch, which was what I was really going for, I guess.
“You know what I’m talking about—you lost the first round, I lost the second.”
I feign confusion. “Well, you definitely lost me.”
He grins and I feel hypnotized again.
Fuck.
He laughs again.
“See?” he says. “Here you are, a lovely woman probably used to catcalls and propositions. I bet you’ve developed all sorts of poker faces to deal with wanted and unwanted attention, yet you can’t keep the fact that you want me—desperately—off your face.”
“Excuse you?” I didn’t even have to fake the outrage in my voice.
“Please—don’t try to deny it,” he says dismissively. Then his voice lowers to grumble, traveling straight to my pussy and leaving it tingling, begging for his touch. “I bet if I were to reach my hand inside your panties right now they’d be soaked.”
Hell, if they weren’t already, they definitely would be now.
Fuck this guy and his sexy talk!
I am even more outraged, despite my arousal.
How dare he talk to me like that?
I’m glad I beat him out on this unit.
I hope it’s really his and his whole life is in there.
I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down before speaking again.
“So are you trying to sweet talk me out of this whole thing now? Bet that usually works for you too. Look, I don’t know why you wanted that unit so badly, but I’m glad you get to watch my ass as I take off, owning it.”
And with that, I leave him to watch my departing ass.
