I Every Give Break-Ins

One last one. This is high. I'm coming. Take it, you little whore. Did you come. Yes. I told you not to. Why did you?

Why did you come? Why did you cum? Why did you feel good? Why did you cum with your cunt!

I whimpered, then grunted. Then came. The chair rattled a little as it shook with me. When I pulled the cock out, I noticed my thighs were wet.

I sat back and didn't think about much for a minute. Then I noticed What I had in my hand. I brought the dildo back to my face, licked the balls clean, and throated it. On the outstroke I held my lips tight around it to clean it up.

I didn't want to put it back with spit on it. I walked bottomless to the bathroom, washed it in the sink, and dried it on Joe's towel.

No one was there to push me to the wall or throw me to the floor or cuff me to the showerhead. No one was there to see me like this, barefoot, wearing only a short tight tank top, clutching a dripping dildo. No one was there to give me the forcible fucking I needed. That my cunt needed. That I was going to die without.

I still hadn't had an orgasm as good as the rape.

Back in my room, I pulled out my phone, called that guy with the muscles I met at the party. I got his voice mail and hung up.

Feeling restless and weird, and definitely still horny, I stripped. Rooting through my clothes, I dug out my new swimsuit and put it on. It was a fluorescent green v-suit. You know what I'm talking about. Shoulder to crotch to other shoulder, same deal in the back. If I'd needed to cover my shoulder blades, it would have been good. It mostly almost covered my boobs, and sadly my nipples didn't poke through, but from the back, the mirror informed me that the beginning of my ass crack was visible. From the front, if I didn't shave everything, there definitely would have been some thatch. As a final touch, I took a sharpie and wrote a secret message on the palm of each hand.

I stuck my feet into flip-flops, ready to go. It was too cold to swim, but not too cold for the beach. Nowhere near too cold to fuck. A boy could face-to-face me against one of the sheds at the beach, the crotch of my suit pushed to one side to make way for his invader, in front of a crowd, as the rest of the suit fell off and they all saw the way he made my tits shake and my nips stand out. I could shriek like that bleach-blonde slut, I'm close I'm close, as he chewed gum in my face and didn't care about the brain-wiping cumm he was about to give me.

I pulled my hand out of the suit's crotch, but slowly, fighting every step of the way. It was too padded to camel toe properly, no matter how I tried. About to give up, I realized what I had to do. I got out my dinky little swiss army knife, made a few cuts, and carefully took the padding out. Breasts too. Bathing suits should expose my body, not hide it.

Now my camel toe was as clear as if I'd drawn it on with the sharpie. My nipples looked good. I took the water bottle out of my backpack and spilled a bit over my boobs and twat. The transparency wasn't great, but clinging was. Nips came through the fabric in hi-def. I could even kinda make out the bumps in the halo.

Feeling much better, I headed out into the grey noon. I passed by a couple of people as I walked south. Boys. They stared. I stared back, silently daring them to do something about it. They didn't.

By the time I got back to that house, my suit was dry again. Too bad. Still a pretty good look at my goodies though. I pulled myself up to the window and looked in, feeling super aware of the band-aids on my shin.

I fucking knew it. The blonde girl was zonked out. Still had her shoes and stockings on. Come like that, you'll feel warm and satisfied and weak. You'll sleep. But the boy, who hadn't been into it, he wouldn't go to sleep. There he was, doing something on his phone, white earbuds in, half a bottle of beer on the nightstand beside him.

I dropped down and walked around to the front, toes clenched to keep my flip-flops from making noise. I tried the door. Open. Slipped inside, guessed the layout, and quietly, quietly, quietly opened the door.

It was their bedroom, with their cream silk sheets. Her with her stockings and heels. I slipped my flip-flops off. Let the boy spot me from the corner of his eye. He looked at me, startled, and I held up my right hand.

On the palm I had written HI KEITH <3.

With my other hand, I pinched my nipple and rolled it between my fingers. When I was sure he'd read the hand, I put a finger to my lips. Shh. Glanced meaningfully at his sleeping girlfriend.

He nodded, set his phone and earbuds aside, and stood up. He was tenting, and what's more, he stripped for me. All business. Totally on my page. I was more his type than his girlfriend, for sure.

I picked up his beer, throated the neck, and chugged it. Boys don't mind me drinking their beers when I do it like that.

He moved closer to me. But I moved over to the bed, and I dropped to my knees, my face inches from the blonde's.

He went with it!

The instant he was close enough, I locked my lips over his head and squirmed them over the place where it joined the shaft. I laced my fingers in his and covered his cockend in tender little licks with the tip of my tongue. He lasted I think like two minutes, a long time for one of my BJs because I wasn't going all out.

I don't think his dick tasted much like pussy. Maybe he'd had a shower... or washed it off after she fell asleep. His cum was cum; I had no problem with that.

As he stepped back, out of breath and trying to be quiet about it, I held up one finger, as if to say "one minute." Leaning over the girl, hitting Keith with the pleadingest eyes, I licked one shiny black heel.

Then I drooled out his spooge all over it.

From feet away, I could hear his breath catch.

I held up my left hand.

On my palm I had written MORE?

He nodded, held up two fingers. Two minutes?

I couldn't fucking wait that long! Kneading my twat through the suit with the heel of my hand, I crawled over to him and captured his dick in my mouth. He couldn't do anything loud about it without waking the blonde up, and like you might guess, a boy trying to push a girl away from sucking his peener isn't all the way invested in succeeding.

I pumped him in and out of my mouth at first, and as he got more stiffness back, in and out of my throat. Finally I deep-throated him and held him there, and with the whole salami hidden right under my nose, I finger-traced a heart on his stomach. His hands drifted to my head and I batted them away, pushing him down on the bed next to his girl.

I climbed on top of him, knees to either side of his hips. I kissed him adoringly. I could feel his warm fingers, delicate for a boy's, pulling the crotch of my suit aside. He lunged his puppy up into me, and the feeling was like wrapping myself in a warm electric blanket on a cold morning, and of course getting penetrated for a good hard boy-girl fuck at the same time. I couldn't help myself. I squeaked, "Oh shit!"

Instantly we froze. We turned to look at the blonde. She was still asleep. I felt something wonderful on my nipple and looked down to see him teasing it, biting it lightly through the suit with his front teeth. I leaned back so I could see his thing poking into mine. I pointed. He stared. I showed him the MORE? palm and he nodded eagerly.

We began to move. I wished I'd written more on me, like maybe on my breasts so I could reveal them. I could have put SHOW ME YOUR PORN on one boob and DO IT INSIDE ME on the other. I could have let him doggy me and written something on the parts of my back the suit covered.

But when we began to move, that didn't make a difference. It felt good. I ground back against him and whined impatiently until he was slamming me, grunting with every stroke, and I had to hold onto the headboard for dear life. Through my clenched teeth, I made involuntary little squeaks as the violence of his fucking knocked breaths of air from my lungs.

"Oh my god," said his girlfriend, but we were too into it to give a shit.

The need for stealth was gone. I was determined to ride this out until I came or his bitch girlfriend hit me in the head with a lamp or something. "Fuck me harder, stud," I said, "show your girlfriend what you spread around." I locked gazes with her, though it wasn't easy with Keith going wild in my Place Where Babies Are Made. I could read some interest in her face. I could read some lust. "Watch us," I gasped, "Fucking watch us. It's not the first time. It's not the fucking first time." I licked my lips, flicked my tongue. "Watch your boyfriend make me cum again. Watch him put his cheating wad in me. Right in front of you. Right in front of youuuu."

"Oh my god," she said... delightedly? "Oh my god. It's just like we talked about. Make me jealous, Keith. Fuck her. Show me what you're giving some other girl. Fuck that nasty slut!"

"I'm... not a slut," I said between squeals and hard, heavy panting. "This is my... first time."

Even through our mutual passion, I noticed Keith looking skeptical, but I sidelined that thought for the time being.

"Oh yeah," I continued, "look at me giving it up to your man. He's gonna get me pregnant and leave you."

"Oh you whore," she growled sexily, and I could see she was two-finger pumping her own blushing cookie, "you fuckin' do it. You better let him knock you up. When you're weak and gravid I'll fucking kick you down the stairs and suck his cock while you miscarry in a puddle of blood."

I didn't expect to like her, let alone this much, but I really, really did. "You stupid cunt," I swore at her, feeling the sweat plastering my hair to my blazingly flushed face, feeling the flush all down the front of my body where my revealing suit let them both see it, "he'd break your nose for that, pull out a fistful of your hair. When I was in intensive care he'd sit in the waiting room, masturbating his hard cock for me, hiding it behind a copy of Time Magazine from 2003. He'd cum for me on a picture of Qusay Hussein's face, and when he was finished, he'd sneak into my room and cum in my IV bag. He'd wake me up and I'd blow him and we'd fuck again and I'd be twice as pregnant, you worthless slag. Your nose would be bleeding all over the kitchen while you looked for the paper towels. Your boyfriend feels so good in me."

She was grinning, but her dark eyes were glazed with lust. "Oh yeah, skank. Work that cock. It belongs to me. I wanna see you cry and beg for more of what I get every day. Every night. Fuck her good, Keith. Shove this bitch into paradise with your fat girlpleaser."

"Do it Keith," I told him, "make me sing with the angels. Our baby's gonna grow up to be an A-list actress and you can fuck her too. Fuck her like you're fucking me. Keep fucking me. I'm gonna come from you fucking me. I'm gonna come from you fucking me, but only if your girlfriend's watching. Keep watching me, you dumb cunt. You can't keep a man. I'm so much hotter than you. Anything you want, I can have, have in my pussy."

"Oh you're close, huh, you little boychaser?"

"I'm as close as you were. I was peeking on you. You took it from behind."

She looks surprised for a second, then rolls with it. "We were loud, huh? We were loud for you. Show you what you've been missing. Fuck I'm cumming, eeeep. Heeeeee."

"Yeah, cum for us, you loser. Cum watching me and my new boyfriend, you trash. He's not yours anymore. Oooh, oh yeah. Did you bleach your hair for him? Did you wear those heels for him? It's too late now, he's gone."

She was coming down, but still frigging away at herself. "Yeah, yeah, I did all those things for Keith. What's he gonna make you do? He'll make you pierce your lips, put giant rings in 'em. Make you crawl everywhere, cut off your fingers and toes. You'll do it all 'cause you're a slave to his cock. I can see you losing your mind right now. He's the hard, powerful master and you're the whimpering, begging slave."

"Oooh, that's right, you're right," I said, drawing it out in a pout, getting that roman candle fuse feeling in my guts, "I'm a slutty slave to this cock forever. I'm in thrall to the dick that popped me. I only needed one hit and my cunt was addicted."

"I can tell you're close, tramp," she spat, "so taste the pussy he thinks is good enough to live with!" And she crammed her slimy fingers in my mouth.

"Nuhhhh!" I said. I shook my head, spat them out. "I'm not gay, you fucking dyke," I shouted, a lot less playfully.

She was getting angry too, but I wasn't thinking at the time about how playful she was, I was just feeling threatened. "What's that, ho? My fingers aren't good enough for you? My pussy's not good enough for you?" She straddled her boyfriend's legs, just behind me, and pressed her body into mine.

I was repulsed, but bouncing on Keith's cock felt too good to even consider stopping. "Fuck you... lesbo..." I managed.

"Don't fight it," she whispered in my ear, much more softly and sweetly than any of the rest. "Don't fight me. I'm going to push you over the edge, and you're going to be so grateful to me you'll never touch a cock again. Just eat my pussy for the rest of your life. Except when Keith is fucking it, telling me how much better it is than yours."

"No... get off... I'm really cumming..."

"Yeah," she chanted tenderly, intimately, "yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah." As I'm writing this, if I close my eyes, I can almost still hear her in my right ear.

Her hand was doing a magical demolition job on my clit. The shakes I usually get in my thighs, I was getting in my whole spine. When my bomb cunt went off, all the air in me rushed out my clenched throat, and I couldn't tell you whether it was a shout, a grunt, a groan, a scream, a moan, a howl... I guess really it was all of those together, and while it was going on I didn't think it would ever end.

A weird, detached part of me just felt peaceful as my body shook itself apart. It was as though most of the time my body was in incredible pain, and just this once I'd been given the right painkiller, and all the pain had gone away, and I could think. It was an island of tranquility in an ocean of broken glass.

But then, on another level, my body and I were one, having a bliss seizure, losing control, feeling so decadently perfect, like no drug or anything else that has ever happened to me. As though for one moment all of me had a purpose, a very violent and ecstatic purpose that threw every muscle into overdrive, catalyzed every neuron into burnout, crisped my blood to ashes. Every atom of destruction another screaming voice shredding my soul into something better and more delicious.

It wasn't as good as the rape, but I was beginning to wonder if anything could be.

When I came down, I was huddled against Keith's chest. He must have had his cum when I did, because he wasn't fucking me anymore. I had my ear to his bare chest. I could feel his sweat and hear his heart racing. His girlfriend was lying on my back and I could hear and feel her breath on my spine.

I felt a sudden surge of panic. I tried to scramble out from between them. Keith grunted and stroked my hair, like he was trying to calm me. I twisted away. His girlfriend let me up and I tumbled off the bed.

"I'm not gay," I said weakly. "That didn't make me gay."

Her head on her lover's chest, where mine had been, the girl looked at me with her dark eyes clearer than they'd ever been when Keith was inside me. "Are you serious," she said flatly.

I tried to get up. My legs wouldn't hold me. I face-planted the carpet. Rolled over, spitting out carpet fibers.

"That hard, huh?" she said.

I tried to crawl. It turned into a belly flop. It was all I could do to turn my head so I wouldn't be face-down on the floor.

"Are you okay?" asked Keith.

I felt my lower lip trembling, and tears forming in my eyes. I could feel one side of my suit had come off and my bare tit was pressed into the carpet.

Keith got off the bed, took the top sheet off, and wrapped it around me. He helped me sit up against the wall. The silk felt nice, especially on my exposed nipple. "You're going to be okay," he said.

His girlfriend came over and hugged me. "Really. It's going to be fine. You were great."

I jerked away from her. "Stop it."

She backed off, stood up. "I'm sorry," she said.

Keith cuddled me, rubbing my shoulders. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm straight," I sobbed quietly, trying to control myself. "I'm straight. I'm not a lesbian."

Even through my tears I could see them exchange glances. I couldn't read the glances, though. I pulled my suit back over myself. Over my fucked cunt, over my right boob.

"That's right," said Keith. "We had straight sex together. It was perfectly normal." He planted a kiss on a tear as it ran down my face.

I was getting much closer to pulling myself together. "Could you just..." I said. "Could you just give me a minute alone, please?"

"Sure," said Keith, and they went out of the room.

I blew my nose on the sheet, silently apologizing as I did. I didn't know if you had to do any kind of special laundry stuff with silk sheets. I wiped my face a little. It wasn't a great towel.

Then I threw it aside and cautiously stood up, hands on the wall.

I could stand. For a little while.

I went over to the window, pulled out the screen, and straddled the sill. Carefully, I lowered myself over the other side. The last foot down to the grass, I just fell. I lay there for what felt like enough time that I worried they'd come back into the room, then picked myself up, hobbled to the sidewalk, spotted a gate, and let myself through it just before I collapsed again.

I nudged the gate shut with my foot. I was in a private yard. There was no way I could make it home. I took another long moment to recover, then crawled weakly under a low-hanging branch and lay there, waiting to lose consciousness.

I don't think it took long.

When I woke up, it was dark, and I could hear boys talking. Something about the Seahawks. I was freezing cold. My face felt crusty with old tears. My cunt and the suit crotch were sticky. Overall I felt better, though. I rose to my knees, looking carefully through the screen of leaves.

I saw three boys in swim trunks unloading a cooler of beer. One of them docked his ipod into a stereo which started playing LMFAO. Next to them were the unmistakable square profile, liquid underlighting, and rising steam of a hot tub at night.

This is roughly what Moses saw when he looked into the Promised Land. As they turned their backs to me to count out money and share the cost of the beer, I made straight for the tub and eased myself in. The music covered me. "Every day I see my dream."

I ducked my head under to clean my face, scrubbed over and under the suit for my crotch, and rubbed my palms together to at least fade out HI KEITH <3/MORE?.

Here was the question, though. That day I had jilled off in the shower, blown my neighbor, fucked and sucked the roommate who thought he was my boyfriend, accidentally gone to class commando, frigged it to a complete stranger and his girlfriend, fallen and cut myself, masturbated again to bondage porn, walked around in a slutted-out swimsuit, blown a stranger, fucked him in front of his girlfriend, been fingered off by his girlfriend while he fucked me, collapsed, had a crying breakdown, slept for hours outdoors in not particularly great weather, and not eaten a thing. I had to be a mess, right? Was I something these guys would want to find in their hot tub?

I was agonizing over this, and wondering whether to sneak away and go home, when I unexpectedly shifted over a water jet. I had no idea I still wanted it, but it felt like a lance of pure awesome. I bit my cheeks to keep from squealing, moaning, or whatever other noises I would have made. I could feel my hips rocking with it.