Chapter 150 SEX PARTY
ONE; SEX PARTY
pushed open the heavy wooden door of the sprawling frat house, and the assault hit me instantly—a thick, humid wall of sweat, musk, and the sharp, unmistakable tang of fresh cum.
The electronic bass throbbed through the floorboards and up my legs like a second heartbeat, but it was drowned out by the symphony of guttural grunts, broken moans, high-pitched whimpers, the relentless wet slap of flesh on flesh, and the occasional raw, desperate cry of “fuck me harder” or “don’t stop, I’m coming again.”
My eyes flew wide as I stepped inside. No shred of hesitation, no polite introductions, just bodies tangled up shamelessly fucking everywhere I looked.
Directly in front of me, on the kitchen counter that doubled as a makeshift stage, a petite blonde was splayed wide open in invitation.
Her slim legs were hooked high over the tattooed shoulders of a broad, ripped guy whose arms were covered in ink. His thick, veiny cock was buried to the hilt in her stretched, glistening pink pussy, the lips of her cunt gripping desperately to every ridge as he hammered into her with punishing force.
Each brutal thrust made his heavy balls smack audibly against the curve of her ass, the sound echoing rhythmically over the music. She screamed in delirious ecstasy, head thrown back, spine arching so sharply off the cold stone that her small, firm tits bounced wildly, nipples dark and hard.
Another guy, with a tall, shaved head gleaming under the lights, stood over her face, feeding her every inch of his long, throbbing dick.
She took him greedily, lips stretched wide, throat working visibly as she swallowed him down, gagging with wet, choking sounds. Thick saliva spilled from the corners of her mouth and dripping in slow strings down her chin and pooled on her neck.
“Fuck yeah, choke on it, you greedy little slut,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding, hips bucking forward to force the last inch down her throat while she moaned around the intrusion, nails raking red lines down his thighs.
I stood frozen in the doorway, heat crawling up my neck, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears. A mix of shock and something darker twisted in my gut at the sight.
This wasn’t the house party that Sarah, my supposed best friend told me about.
For weeks I’d been whining to her about how badly I needed to get fucked to shake off the frustration, how the dry spell was making me crawl out of my skin, how I fantasized about being used until I couldn’t walk straight.
She’d listened, smiled, and said she knew just the place. This was not what I pictured. Where were the red solo cups, beer pong tables, and flirting?
This was a full-blown sex frat orgy. The bitch had set me up.
I should have spun on my heel right then and there and bolted back out into the night, slamming the door behind me. But my feet, traitors that they were, carried me forward instead, deeper into the dimly lit living room where the air hung even thicker, saturated with the heady cocktail of pussy juice, cum, sweat, and lube.
The blonde's screams yanked my attention back to her like an invisible leash. The guy pounding her pussy had slowed just enough to pull his glistening cock almost all the way out, the shaft coated in her creamy juices, before slapping it hard against her swollen clit.
Once. Twice.
By the thrid time she squirted in a sharp, glittering arc of fluid that splashed across the counter and pattered onto the floor near my feet.
"Oh god, yes! Harder, fuck me harder! Don’t stop!" she wailed, her voice breaking into a sob of pleasure.
The second guy fisted her hair roughly, yanked her head back and spilled thick spurts of cum across her outstretched tongue. She held her mouth wide open, catching every drop like it was nectar, her eyes rolling back in bliss as she swallowed what she could, the rest smearing across her lips and chin in glossy streaks.
My breath stuttered. A unwelcome heat ignited low in my belly, spreading like wildfire between my thighs. My nipples hardened instantly, poking insistently against the thin fabric of my tank top, sensitive enough that even the slight brush of cotton made me shiver.
I turned beet red.
I wasn't this girl. I wasn’t supposed to feel this. I was shy, reserved Nellie who blushed at a steamy movie scene. But watching them, the sheer filth of it, the way their bodies collided with such animalistic urgency, it stirred something deep and forbidden inside me.
My pussy clenched in response, a slick warmth beginning to seep into my panties.
I couldn’t help but let my eyes roam, helplessly.
To my left, on a battered leather couch, two guys were completely lost in their own world. One was on his knees, his firm ass arched high in the air, cheeks spread invitingly as the other guy knelt behind him, his hand wrapped around his own rock-hard cock, stroking it slowly to spread a generous amount of lube before aligning the swollen head with that tight, puckered hole.