The Best Erotic Stories.

College Daze I
by A.B. Seass

'Okay, guys -- balls on the table!' Ginny chuckled, shuffling the cards: having just won the cut for deal. When neither Randy nor I showed any sign of complying, she tossed her hair, still grinning and added: 'Very well -- on your heads be it. But I'm warning you -- this girl is hot and you're going to pay for making me wait. You're going to beg for mercy, and mercy isn't at this table.'

She was that sort -- extroverted. Bubbly springs to mind.

At first glance, Strip "Poker" might seem a bit juvenile. But this was a privatecam site: the omnipresent camera mounted on the wall to my left, near the ceiling, where it overlooked the dining room table, broadcasting fresh images to the internet every 15 seconds -- and once there, well, who knew how voyeurs were watching every move and twitch?

Plus the fact that both of these women, college students like myself and Randy, and room-mates at the apartment...(suite 202 of the building owned by grandfather: the building I expected to inherit soonish)... were gorgeous. Ginny was one of those full-bodied auburn-haired beauties you don't mind putting in the effort to unwrap. While Linda -- who had inveigled me into this situation -- was nothing short of spectacular: a tall slender, blue-eyed, blonde with boobs of "centrefold quality".

So if that combination doesn't put some initial pressure on your zipper, nothing will.

Although it didn't seem to faze the tall blonde-haired Randy, seated casually next to the outgoing Ginny, sipping his beer.

'Never mind,' Linda leaned close, whispering in my ear as Ginny dealt the first hand. 'Just ignore the cameras. You'll soon forget they even exist. In the meantime...' her fingertips eased down my taut zipper.

Easy for her to say! Although I did appreciate her, umh, assistance.

Actually, the game was 31. Three cards each, round and round you go, until someone knocks on the table. Closest total to 31 wins...And I might even have managed to follow Linda's advice, maybe, except that Ginny knocked exuberantly on the first pass.

Linda and Randy both lost their shoes, but muggins here, as low score, finished up losing two garments - and was therefore barefoot. Not only that but I had to climb up and sit on the table, no mean feat with a full throbbing hard-on trappped in my jeans, brace my hands on the tabletop behind for support and extend my legs their full length: facing a mischievous grin from Ginny -- 'See, I told you I was hot!' -- and the camera over her shoulder.

And did she make a meal of it. Rolling the plastic handle of the duster between her palms to fluff out the multi-coloured "feathers" to their full menace, giggling as she made a show of warming up, flourishing the implement, practising on imaginary specks on the tabletop...Then pausing to sip her beer, making me sweat. By which time, my own throat was dry, my heart pounding, and my toes already curling up of their own accord.

So of course it took her all of 5 seconds, maybe two flicks of the duster, across the soles of my feet, to wring a groan from my clenched lips.

Linda and Larry cheered. Ginny did an extravagant "victory dance", punching the air with a clenched fist and flourishing the duster -- before demanding my jeans. Which couldn't have been a worse introduction, of course -- all that wriggling and squirming about -- the well-budged briefs coming askew, having to be adjusted -- the chill of the tabletop against the exposed flesh of my legs. Flushing no doubt crimson. With the camera capturing it all, for god knows how many pairs of unseen eyes.

Then...Similar pose, only with the knees slightly cocked and way way apart, pulled further apart by the chuckling Ginny. Ever noticed how little fabric there is a pair of briefs? Just not enough, is there. And Ginny was merciless, going for the insteps -- ooh -- the inside of the knees --ugh -- the underside of the knees -- oh god! Sweat pouring off me now. Eyes clenched tight shut. Holding my breath. Inner thighs! Even somehow circumventing the flap of my shirt, to focus on the gap created by the stretched leg-holes in the briefs!-actually managing to contact the very edge of my swollen hypersensitive balls!

Move!? Or make a noise!? I very nearly ejaculated on the spot! Now how humiliating would that have been?! Especially with all those unseen eyes watching! But, fortunately -- wonder of wonder, she didn't seem to realise what she had -- and she moved back down.

Thank god!

After which, the rest seemed almost easy. Make no mistake though, it was torment -- a torment that went on and on and on. Especially when she returned to working on the soles of my feet, determined to earn herself another keep me on that tabletop. Bloody awful that was.

PING! went the egg-timer.

How do you spell relief? But really?! Was that only a minute?!

'You did well,' Linda whispered, close to my ear. 'Very well.'

Did I? I was still gasping, trying to settle into the chair, draining off a sizeable quantity of my beer, while simultaneously plucking at my shirt-flap, fanning it -- letting in some much-needed, blessedly cool air. I mean, every bit of me seemed to be quivering and twitching, both inside and out.

Only to look up and find Ginny sitting opposite me, grinning, clearly horny herself -- hazel eyes shimmering and nipples visible, poking out of her blouse -- as she dealt the next hand...

A hand which went to Linda, with Randy "low score".

'Perfect! Mo-ah!' Ginny kissed her own fingertips. 'Girl power!'

Linda took her time, sipped her beer, designated '....socks and jeans -- and on all fours, facing away from the camera of course,' to Randy, and to me: 'I'll take mercy on you...' By which she meant my briefs. Which, in a way, was indeed a mercy. If you ignored the fact my balls were now totally exposed underneath the shirt -- and my hard-on formed a tentpeg of enormous proportions. So that I eased my chair in slightly, as discreetly as possible, during the general shuffle, attempting to use the table itself as cover from the camera.

Linda really put Randy through it. The soles of his feet, backs of his knees, between his thighs. She had him trembling -- his arms shaking -- so badly I thought he might collapse forward onto the table. Fascinating. Mesmerising, in fact. Watching him seem to hang there, face contorted, quivering. So much so I 'd polished off a sizeable quantity of my beer, before the PING released him -- letting him collapse forward with a loud groan of sheer relief, his head resting on his trembling forearms.

And I discovered, to my chagrin, that I'd been fingering my own enormous prick: the way you do, instinctively, easing the stress. Something that no one else, fortunately, seemed to have noticed. Although I couldn't swear to even this, of course, given the camera.

Linda returned to her chair, sipping her beer and smiling wryly, as she watched the wriggling Randy try to settle in across the table. Then she dealt the third hand. A hand which finally saw one of the girls -- Ginny! -- lose to Randy. Unfortunately, it also saw me stripped. Full stop. Starkers. Shrugging off my shirt, as the exuberant Ginny was arranging herself on all-fours, turning on the tabletop to present her firm round rump to Larry, and therefore to the camera. So I was naked, my huge cock out and wobbling, as she reached back -- still kibitzing and giggling -- to run her fingertips around the leg-holes of her panties: spreading the garment, releasing the elastic with an audible snap. Then she chanced to glance sideways, winking at me --only to do a grinning double-take and crane to peer over the edge of the table.

'Hey! He's naked! He should be the one up here!'

'You made the rules,' Linda laughed, now blouse-less, her "centrefold" breasts threatening to erupt out the skimpy demi-bra. 'I'll just have to get him on the forfeits!'

'You will?! Not if I get there first, honey. Je-sus, you were right -- he is hung.!'

Linda chuckled, reaching out to start the timer. 'Shuddup, you -- I've started the clock.'

Randy went to work, almost instantly finding a "weak spot". In that little crease where her shapely legs joined with, and began to swell into, her firm round tush. He could hardly have missed it, in fact, because she jerked the instant the "feather" made contact. Seemed to lift off the table. Ruthlessly, he stayed there -- had her quivering within seconds, then virtually vibrating. Until she simply collapsed, issuing a high-pitched shriek of laughter.

'Oh dear,' quipped Linda, smiling and sipping her beer. 'I do believe I smell blood.'

Ginny sat back, faced flushed, but still grinning, and poked out her tongue at her room-mate -- while unbuttoning and shrugging off her blouse.

Back she went, rocking slightly as she settled in on all-fours, and clearing her throat -- clearly trying to gather herself -- her huge boobs now right at my eye level, one nipple partially exposed, peeping over the top of the bra. And back he went. Right to those little creases, reducing her to a sweating twitching wreck within seconds -- and requesting her bra after she'd slumped forward suddenly, head on arms, giggling and muttering: 'You bastard. You absolute bastard!'

Her boobs were fabulous, jouncing and tolling as she rocked, gnawing at her lower lip, her head thrown back. The muscles along her flank were taut, her back arched rigid and her nipples like miniature thumbs. Not once was this vision presented, but twice in barely more than a minute. The sole difference on the latter occasion being that her lush auburn pubic thatch was now exposed as well, so I was spoiled for choice.

So entranced was I by the scene that I jumped, startled, when Linda's cool fingertips closed gently over the engorged tip of my thorbbing cock. 'I think she's done for, don't you?' Linda chortled.

Sure enough, right on cue, Ginny exhaled in a loud gush, already giggling.

'Did I hear something about forfeits?' Randy asked, grinning.

Linda nodded, walking her fingertips down my rock-hard shaft.

'Right, you,' Randy chuckled, whisking the duster across the suffused flesh of Ginny's lovely tush. 'Up you get...'

The air was electric, scented with musk. Pussy musk! He could toy with her now, could make her huge breasts sway and jounce under his ministrations -- while she struggled to hang on, gnawing at her lower lip, head hanging down between her forearms. And he seemed to have found his voice as well...'Umh, that seems a good place'...along her flanks...'And there'...the underside of her ribcage...'How about those big boobs'...reaching over, dragging the "feathers" over her swollen nipple...and back, broadside down her stomach. Down she went, panting and gasping.

'And again. Up, up!' Chuckling mischievously as Ginny struggled to heave herself into the required position.

The backs of her knees this time... down for a quick flick at the sole of each foot ...up, oh so slowly...inner thighs...through between: the tip teasing at her belly...drawing it back, the "feathers" running through her pubic thatch...

I was gasping now. At the combination of the scene unfolding before my eyes and Linda's fingertips probing at my ballls, slipping around underneath them.

He turned up the handle of the duster, mounting a direct assault on her pussy, pulling the "feathers" slowly across her swollen moist pussy lips themselves -- really putting it to her!

So much so that Linda flinched involuntarily, closing her hand to cup my seething balls.

'Okay, okay,' Ginny gasped, flopping onto her side, legs drawn up.

Randy could still reach the little crease at the base of her tush.

And he did!

Then he flicked his wrist, once, twice, three times -- and literally ripped the giggle from her.

'You bastard, you bastard,' she mumbled, giggling, and flopping onto her back, hands clasped together, palms flat: a gesture of supplication. 'Please! No more.'

But Larry just laughed, flicked the duster across her heaving belly, made her twitch and giggle ...'Didn't I hear something about...?'...'Yes, mercy! For pity sake, mercy!' she interrupted, writhing...He went after her ribs, taunting -- 'But Mercy isn't at this table' -- his voice a passable imitation...'P-l-e-a-s-e,' she inhaled, her stomach tight and twitching, 'I'm begging you!...'Beg away,' he replied, 'but get those knees up and out. And keep your hands out of the way...'

'He's going to kill her,' Linda murmured, licking her lips.

I tried to say "I doubt it", found the words strangled by her fingertips encircling and beginning to stroke my hard-on.

He was doing her boobs, very tip on very tips -- so to speak...'Say uncle'...'Uncle!' Yet her torment went on, Randy grinning -- the bulge in his briefs now tent-poling his shirt as he worked her over...picking out her armpit...'P-l-e-a-s-e!'...the other armpit...'Make it pretty please'...'Can't!'...'So be it', criss-crossing her stomach...'Can't!'

She was out of breath, hysterical, beyond control.

'On your head be it,' he teased, homing straight in on her juicy moist pussy...So that she sucked in wind, began swearing she would do anything, '...please, anything at all!'

'Oh, how the mighty have fallen,' Linda chortled, winking at me.

I nodded frantically, unable to breathe myself.

'Such as what?' he taunted...'Anything!'...Then she grunted, and froze --feeling the finger from his free hand penetrating her pussy...'This?'...A short quick nod from her...'Even this?'...the finger sank up to the knuckle, seeming to lift her -- until her round tush was suspended above the tabletop...'Like that, do we?'...another curt nod...'How about this?' ...the duster tip dipped to her ribcage...her head began to flop from side to side, her face contorted.

'Oooh,' he winked at me. 'A twat spasm. And another.'

And you could see them, rippling up her taut arched stomach, trembling through her straining limbs. He adjusted the duster, went after her boobs, her nipples -- in very slow brushing motions -- while his finger began to work inside her pussy: in-out, in-out, in-out, the middle knuckle appearing then disappearing, appearing then disappearing... her inner thighs gleaming with the juice from her pussy.

'I bet this has the boys jacking off,' Randy quipped.

Ginger was very nearly there.

As was I. When Linda seemed to come out of her reverie -- and, damnit, let go of my hot throbbing prick. So that my own rump thudded back onto the chair, stomach twitching, utterly bereft. 'And the girls,' Linda replied, giggling

Just as the convulsions started for real, and Ginny bucked, shrieking: 'Oh jesus oh yes oh christ oh yes yes yes, oh j-e-s-u-s!!!!!' '

Ginny, still flushed, but grinning...having agreed to be Randy's slave for the weekend - "his ABJECT slave", to be precise... fetched us all a beer, then hovered, nipples hard as rocks, letting Larry finger her wet pussy -- while Linda, with the incentive of a slave of her own in the offing, took the next hand, stripping Larry, and keeping me on tenterhooks for yet another hand. Which I had to play standing up, my rock-hard cock and balls now competing with Ginny for the attention of the unseen audience...

'What do I get if I make him come?' Linda wanted to know.

It was hard on that tabletop. Hard and cold. A strain to hold the position, legs up and out, held there by a sweaty hand clasping each calf. But the tension in my aching lower back was nothing compared to having that damned duster "sawing" slowly back-and-forth, the feathers caressing my quivering cock and hypersensitive balls, the tip reaching well beyond my navel before receding again: causing me to quiver and groan... The growing ripples encouraged by her hand, encircling the base of my hard-on, and squeezing every so gently at sporadic intervals.

Larry's answer was a grunt.

I turned my head, watching as Ginny's mouth closed over his hard curving shaft, began to move, blowing him in long slow delicious-looking strokes, gaining speed, taking him deeper and deeper.


Linda's voice penetrated my haze-filled reverie. 'What?' I gasped.

'Wank. Jack off.' She grinned down between my splayed legs, continuing her slow oh so slow oh so delectable sawing at my inflamed balls and seething hot prick: every "feather" a new sensational, distinguishable from the last. 'When you cum I'm going to make you suck my pussy, then wank for the camera -- then I'm going to fuck you stupid, and you're going to wank again for the...' she gave me one of her adept little squeezes, 'Oooooh!'

Fantastic! Absolutely spectacular! An arc of molten spunk erupted and pumped and pumped and pumped...As it turned later, somehow contriving to miss the duster, while overcoming gravity enough to leave splatters right up under my chin.

And that certainly wasn't the last time the unseen audience got to see my spunk spurt and arc that weekend..!

To Be Continued...


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