I wanted more of that gobsmacked voice. I pretended to not understand.
He repeated, “Show me quickly, before you swallow!”
I opened my mouth. RJ stared into the pool of spunk that filled me completely and threatened to run over my bottom lip.
“Look at her, Borden,” RJ said. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”
Borden had recovered enough to speak. “I’m blindfolded.”
RJ peeled his sleeping mask away from his eyes. Borden saw me on my knees by his feet, my face plastered with semen. His eyes widened in wonder. “I came like a horse!”
They marveled openly, and I couldn’t get enough attention. I let the dollops of cum slide down my cheek. I scooped it into my mouth. When I tilted my head, the cum spilled over my lips and I caught it just in time. I chased the cum on my cheeks into my mouth. I licked my hands. I scooped it off my breasts. I did everything but act out Hamlet.
I swallowed. His salty, thick substance blossomed in my chest like a shot of bourbon. If I somehow discovered I could get drunk off sperm, I’d be a cheap date. And a reliable one.
Meanwhile, Borden and RJ stared at me like I was the answer to existence. They sported existential woodies as I played with the jism. The showgirl in me kept it going, the slut in me just enjoyed the flavor, the texture, the delinquent naughtiness of it, the revelatory addictive stickiness of it. Before long I had ropes of semen on my fingers, threads hanging off my chin, and droplets on the top of my breasts.
“I think I have more cum to give,” Borden said. His cock certainly looked ready to go.
I winked, and scooped more cum from my cheek into my mouth. I still couldn’t speak, which was lucky. Sure, I was utterly wet, and breathing heavily through my nose, but I probably would have said something nervous, or tried to make a joke, and then ruined the magical scene I’d created.
“Do that again,” Borden demanded. Gone was the frightened mouse who screamed when I opened his belt.
“Get the fuck lost, Borden,” RJ said. “You’re done. There’s the door. I hope you had fun with my girl.”
“Wait! What’s the rush?”
“She has another guy coming.”
“Already?”
“Rebecca is in great demand,” RJ said. He looked at me again with that intensity. “Understandably in great demand.”
RJ flipped the sleeping mask back over Borden eyes, then kicked the door open and ejected him out of the house. The last I saw of Borden before the door rebounded shut was a confused, plaintive, half-covered face and an erect penis.
“His cock was still out,” I giggled.
“Clean your face, Rebecca. You almost killed us playing with that cum. You are a dirty girl.”
“I aim to please.”
Instead of giving me a wet-nap or a towel, he dithered by the door, watching. He wanted me to do it the hard way.
Oh yeah? Then watch this, Mr. Friend-zone.
I licked my hands clean, and then scraped my cheeks off and licked my fingers again. He watched closely. Under his eyes, I felt like a porn star.
“We’ve been friends for a while, Rebecca. Yet, I didn’t know you liked cum that much. You should have told me more about your cum fixation. I thought we shared everything.”
I shrugged and kept licking.
“You know, Rebecca… I, uh. You and I should… ”
I stopped cleaning myself and waited.
He still dithered.
“We should what, Jack?” I asked hoarsely.
“We should really get together and…”
He never finished that thought. We were interrupted by another knock on the door.
RJ twitched and awoke. “Guy number three! I saved the best for last.”
So much for our payoff moment.
I wanted to grab him and force him back to the couch using that super strength that girls have during payoff-moments. I’d sit him on my knee and work him like a ventriloquist’s dummy, and yank the words out of him, if that was what it took.
But then a second, equally valid (and maybe greedy) part of me thought, “Jack’s gone through so much trouble to set this up. At the very lease, I should think of RJ’s feelings and meet sex-god #3. Best for last, he said.”
If ever there was a girl in conflict, it was me.
Anton Signs His Work
“Quick, stand up, Rebecca.”
I stood, and my American Apparel rip-off shirt slid off one shoulder. Finally. I’d designed it to do just that. In most female garments, this would be a terrifying flaw; here, it was just one of its numerous fashion features. It didn’t slide all the way off my body, so good job, shirt. It wasn’t #FreeTheNipple, it was more like #TeaseTheNipple and #PlayInnocent combined. Would that be #ExploitTheNipple? Anyway, the suddenly bare shoulder and the dizzying acreage of bare upper breast did make me more fetching, in my personal experience.
“I just woke up!” the new guy announced. “Did you know you have a guy hiding in your bushes? His pants are down, and his hands are tied behind his back.”
“Did you see his awesome cock?” RJ asked.
“Yeah,” the new guy said. “It was okay. Nothing special.”
Zing. I craned my head, trying to see what kind of man would think Borden the Organ was nothing special.
“Come in,” RJ said. “I’ll untie Borden. Rebecca, meet Anton.”
I jumped to my feet. Anton?
RJ stepped through the door and I confirmed the new man was indeed Anton.
Anton. Wow!
Anton was chocolate-brown, with shoulder-length dreads and bright blue eyes. The planes of his cheeks were flat, carved from wood, and dusted with scruff. Muscles played across his jaw and temple when he talked. The next-best thing about Anton talking? English accent. He was precisely as mesmerizing as you’d imagine. He was like a swoony sidekick straight out of a TV crime drama, the one who stole every scene from the lead actor who had peaked in the 90s. He was the kind of guy that every sorority girl tracked with a Pinterest board… the modern day equivalent of the creepy shrine on the wall.
I’d seen him around campus, of course. You don’t overlook a man like Anton in a school of only 45,000 students. He always dressed in crisp button-up shirts, sometimes with a loose tie, sometimes with suspenders. He was some kind of genius by all accounts, and he’d happily talk your ear off about his projects and make you feel like an underachieving shit.
As technologically behind the times as I am, I had to make special visits to the computer labs to stalk his Facebook and savor the few shirtless pics that made it into his stream. So usually, in day-to-day glimpses, I could only swoon over his highly-defined forearms. Now, I had the whole visual smorgasbord sidling toward me across a polished wood floor. His broad chest narrowed to a swimmer’s waist and a sprinter’s ass—he was on both teams at the University.
My brain double-checked with my eyes. Confirmation came back.
No shirt.
Talk about self-confidence! To meet a new girl and make a critical first impression, he’d driven across town wearing deck shoes, worn blue-jeans, and no shirt.
Now, those defined arms clasped me in an embrace. Anton pressed me against his bare chest. Except for my American blah-blah, I was breast to breast with him. His blue eyes were inescapable.
“Say something to me, Rebecca,” he crooned. His accent made him sound like an English lord, a Jane Austen movie, and a doctor all rolled into one. “Let me hear your voice.”
“You’re Anton!” I gushed, midwestern all the way.
He laughed, and RJ, who was back, joined in. “See, Anton, I told you she could talk.”
“We’re in the same dorm, but we’ve never spoken,” Anton explained. “In fact, none of you dorm girls ever talk to me. I can’t fathom why.”
“We’re all too busy staring, because you’re so beautiful.”
Anton’s smile widened. “No, you’re beautiful. I told Ripper Jack he’s an idiot for not making you his girlfriend.”
<
br /> “That wasn’t my choice,” RJ shrugged.
Arrg! He kept turning the knife. I take it back, Jack! I’ll take it all back… after a few minutes with Anton.
Anton continued, “I’ve been noticing you for months, Rebecca, and now I have three minutes of your undivided attention—“
“You noticed me?” I sounded like I’d won the lottery.
“—But I won’t press myself on you,” he finished. Which was funny, because we were already pressed against each other. “Do you want me, Rebecca?”
Did I want him? Of course I wanted him.
But I didn’t want to appear greedy.
Already this afternoon, I had seen RJ’s ass. I had received an unforgettable kiss from Seth. I had met a guy who basically existed as a blood supply for his epic cock. I had sucked like a Dyson, and made myself tipsy off a huge load of cum in my stomach.
I’m saying, that was already a lot of win. If I said yes to this wet dream of a man, it might be too much win. My luck might only balance out if a giant asteroid hit the earth. Could I do that to our civilization?
Then I glanced at RJ again. His intense look was back.
RJ’s eyes locked on Anton’s hands, and how his hands rested on me. My tiny, flouncy cheerleader skirt was ultra low-rise, so Anton’s palms were on my hipbones. His fingers wrapped across the top of my butt. The muscles in RJ’s cheeks flickered in time with Anton’s fingers as they flexed on my ass.
Today was RJ’s strange gift to me, but it was for him too. I’d established this to my satisfaction during Seth and Borden. Sharing me out to strange guys was his thing. His kink. Or one of them, at least. That meant I had a way of thanking RJ for everything he’d done. A very pleasant way. Activate the hyper-rationalization engine!
“Yes, Anton,” I said.
“Yes what?” His eyes lasered into mine.
I tried to form words. I knew precisely how Borden felt, right before he opened his mouth to babble.
“Yes, Anton. I want you. I want you so much it hurts.”
Anton wasted no time. He kissed me on the mouth, deep enough to show he had some talent. He didn’t have Seth’s virtuosity, but that didn’t matter because he sank to his knees and looked up at me. He pulled the other side of my backless American blah-blah off my shoulder. It slid down my breasts and past my hips. I wriggled out of the t-shirt and let it fall to the floor at my feet.
Anton and I were perfectly proportioned for each other. His lips were level with my breasts, and my breasts yearned for his lips. With great restraint, he didn’t simply grab my chest. He wrapped his arms around my torso and brought me close. He kissed across my ribs with feather-duster touches, and then up between my breasts. In a timespan too subjectively short to measure, I had Anton’s cheeks between my breasts. Anton’s!
I caressed Anton’s dreadlocks. I sank my fingers through his perfect hair to his scalp, which was hot and damp. I felt like I’d discovered something private. He turned his face up to me with his parted lips. I pulled him onto my breast and put a nipple between his lips.
He sucked lightly at first. I pulled him tighter, and between sucks, he nibbled. It was a gentle sensation, but it promised more.
He let go and the nipple squeaked across his cheek like the top of a rubber baby bottle. He turned to my other breast. The beautiful flat planes of Anton’s cheeks filled my hands. His strong cleft chin pressed into my breast. Half of my passion was simply from studying his perfect face up close. He could have dabbed his mouth with a napkin and turned me on.
My eyes fluttered up to meet RJ’s. He leaned against the door, hands clasped behind the small of his back. He was flushed and breathing deeply through an open mouth. He was staring hard enough to knock us over.
I mouthed words at RJ. “What next?”
He met my eyes but didn’t answer. I knew he could be serious and intent, but this was another level. He was concentrating beyond the ability to form words. He focused on me like I was a piece of Marilyn Monroe footage just re-discovered in the archives.
I covered Anton’s ears with my hands. “Rebecca calling Jack. What do you want next?”
He shook himself awake, then said, “Lady’s choice.”
“No, I want you to be part of this. Tell me what you want, Jack.”
A wicked glint entered his eyes, just as I’d hoped. He glanced at my skirt, then back up at me. He raised an eyebrow.
“Message received,” I said.
When I released Anton’s ears, he said, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, Anton. You’re doing fine work. In fact, I’m promoting you.”
He couldn’t answer because I pressed him back against me. I guided his blue-eyed, chisel-chinned face into my crotch. His mouth worked against my skirt, and his hot breath fed the fire that spread across my lap. I was nervous but ready when he lifted my skirt.
I held it up for him and planted my legs apart. He mouthed my panties.
“Oh, shit… ” I quavered
I’d never seen such a beautiful face pressed against my pussy, and now I wanted to see nothing but that. His dreads tickled my thighs, and our whole asymmetric embrace threatened to topple to the floor when my legs gave out.
RJ was suddenly behind me, hands on my shoulders. “Lie down.”
I obeyed. I fell into his strong arms, and let him arrange me on the couch.
“May I?” Anton looped his fingers through the straps of my panties.
RJ said, “Tell him yes.”
“Yes, Anton,” I breathed.
My panties slid down my legs, over my shoes, and into Anton’s pocket. I bit my finger when Anton’s mouth touched my bare pussy. He drew his tongue straight up my slit, spreading the wetness, making me throb open.
“Oh, God!” I gasped. “Anton’s tongue is amazing!”
Anton redoubled his effort on my snatch, while RJ memorized my face.
I had the best of both worlds, because both of those men were contributing. Anton’s gift was obvious, RJ’s gift less so—it was in the fixated stare he gave me. It was almost like the friend-zone had never happened. He was seeing me as a woman rather than his college buddy.
Sensation bubbled up from my hips. I couldn’t keep my legs or pelvis still. Anton held me tight, with urgent intimacy, so his mouth wouldn’t lose its place. His palms rode my inner thighs, pressing me open.
We blew through the three minute time. RJ said nothing.
Instead of stopping us, RJ helped. He slid his hand around my knee. His hand was hotter and more damp than Anton’s. His mechanic’s calluses scored my leg and made me feel infinitely soft. I had nowhere to look but RJ’s eyes. I watched him fight himself for control. He wanted to explore me with that hand, and I wanted him too… but we had a semester’s worth of pretense built up between us.
Because this was RJ, his self-control won over his desire. He released my leg, drew his hand back. Because I’m Rebecca, desire won over my self-control. I caught his hand and held it.
“Do what you want, Jack,” I pleaded. “Please, just do what you want to me.”
So he pressed my knee down. He wanted me more open to Anton’s mouth. I shivered, half from the idea that he wanted me with a stranger, and half from the knowledge that I now had two men holding my legs open. They were gentle, like I was some kind of flower—but also firm, like they knew I was strong, that I wouldn’t break, and that I could satisfy their hunger.
“I have never seen a more beautiful girl,” RJ breathed.
“She’s amazing,” Anton said. “She is utter perfection. The Snapchats don’t do her justice.” I gave a whine of need. “I think she wants me to stop talking.”
“Someday I’ll have a girl just like this one, all my own,” RJ said.
Oh, you big jerk, I thought. You already have me if you want me.
Anton’s mouth didn’t give me time to breathe. His cleft chin rubbed my slit below his mouth. Yeah… it wasn’t just that I was getting eaten out, it was the million-dollar face doing i
t. This was the face I’d savored between classes, emoted over with female friends, and visualized when I was alone in bed at night.
RJ’s hand hovered over my flushed chest. “I want to touch you, Rebecca.”
I tried to say yes, but when I opened my mouth I only mewled like a cat in heat. Oh, just read my mind, already! To make him understand, I clutched his pants and pulled him to me.
“I’m taking that as a yes,” RJ said.
I moaned again.
“She’s about to come,” Anton murmured.
A thick atmosphere of male attention in the room, and it was all about me. I’d reveal anything to these boys. RJ had me heart and soul, whether he noticed it or not. As for Anton and me, we weren’t connected by deep love, shallow affection, or even simple friendship. Anton and I had never traded more than smiles before today. What we had was a kind of insta-love. That unconditional acceptance and immediate intimacy you feel with someone brand new, who you’ll probably never see again.
RJ’s hand finally landed on my chest. His palm slid across my breasts, cupping them, making them feel heavy and sexy. I felt special and top-drawer, one-of-a-kind. I was a sexed-up, throbbing college coed—nowhere in the universe did more willingness and passion intersect in one place. I beseeched him him with my eyes for more stimulation.
His fingers crossed my taut nipples, sending sparks through me, and then orbited over my hot, satin breasts and returned. He pinched a nipple. I gasped. It was the kick-start my orgasm needed. Pleasure and need spread through my body like warm cream spilled on a table. It poured across every hyper-aware millimeter of my skin.
“Guys… ” I moaned.
“Just feel it,” Anton said.
The warm cream of ecstasy reached my womb, my toes, my spine. It filled my nipples. It burned my muscles and lit my nerves like a fireworks display gone amok.
I couldn’t have broken free of the sensation if someone emptied a bucket of ice-water in my face. I simply surrendered everything as Anton coaxed me toward euphoria. He showed me more about my body’s deep needs than a year’s worth of stroking alone at night.
I locked my eyes on RJ’s face. His wide, sensual mouth was a pursed bow of concentration. I catalogued the things I loved about his face. The shallow smile-wrinkles around his eyes. The thick stubble on his cheeks—this boy would be a caveman if he let it grow. The mischievous eyes. The clever ears. His face like a Roman statue, which I had trouble telling when it was angry, amused, or turned on, and I liked it that way.
Anything for Money: A Sex-For-Hire College Romance Page 12
