Camille Gets the Creeps

The cheerleader felt the top of her dress being pulled down, and her breasts bounced out, her buds hardened and ready. There was a pause. Through her mascara lined lashes, she saw Alvin's lips quivering.

"Perfect..." he whispered. Electricity tingled through her depths. Her breathing quickened at their desperation, the same she'd seen in the biology professor earlier. They can't handle themselves...

The two men attacked her breasts with the intensity of wolves devouring a meal, latching onto them, their tongues licking them and bathing them in swaths of saliva. Swirling their tongues along her cleavage like they belonged, their tangled mass of hands pumping untold fingers and thumbs inside her. She'd lost count. Their movements wormed inside, lathered with stickiness by her writhing hips.

"Fuck yes, use my tits, suck them..." she moaned, spreading her legs even further until she was in the splits, her feet touching both arms of the sofa.

Her nipple slid right into Wilbur's mouth. Alvin looked up from her other nipple and bathed it in a long lick.

"I need to fuck her."

"Hold your horses, Al, she isn't going nowhere." Wilbur smiled, the gap in his teeth making her shudder. "She can handle you. Trust me." She shivered. Both their pants unzipped at the same moment.

She gripped both of their cocks, her cute red nails digging into their urgent gristle. Her left hand didn't come close to wrapping around Wilbur's while her nails clicked together around Alvin's.

She turned her hooded eyes to Wilbur. His cock dwarfed her hand, its ugly veins crisscrossing its brittle skin. God that'd break my pussy. And yet... that's exactly what I want. To own a perfect body, to have the attention that comes with it, but an absolutely wrecked pussy. She jerked his cock harder, forgetting about Alvin to her right.

Her phone rang, its shrill tone breaking the squishing of flesh throughout the room. She dug through her purse, blindly tapping the phone screen.

"I - I can't talk right now..." she said, more aware than ever of her spread legs, her lace panties slipping back into place over their pumping intrusions. The fabric stretched out over their fingers, straining against the deluge of digits pistoning inside her. She moaned. Either three or 4 fingers probed her, she couldn't tell. Another pressed against her. Her brow furrowed, her hips slowing for a moment.

His voice sounded faint, unimportant.

"What's so important you can't talk to me?" She stabbed a finger at the screen hoping she'd ended the call and tossed her phone toward her purse.

If he could imagine the pretty girl with the ribbon in her hair who he'd asked to be his girlfriend now... with multiple creeps feeling her up. Two sets of mouths suckled her, the view of Alvin's orange afro rubbing against Wilbur's scabby head was enough to make her sick. Each nipple descended deeper into their mouths, bathed in spit, their sucking shooting endorphins to her brain. The illusion of control wavered; her pretty face bathed in the flickering candlelight. Wilbur's head popped up with a gasp, saliva dripping down his chin.

"You know Alvin ain't never been with a woman..."

Her chest heaved, reddened by their leeching mouths. "Big surprise."

The sucking intensified, each creep's lips slurping and moving cartoonishly back and forth, treating her as a pair of udders and nothing more. She closed her eyes. Warmth pulsed through her stomach. Every probing lick, nip of teeth, and finger plunging into her pussy distanced her from reality - what should've been a quiet day delivering boxed meals to the elderly.

They're USING me. Cool air replaced where Alvin's mouth had been. The floor squeaked, paper crinkling under his feet. She dared not open her eyes.

The spongy head of a cock pressed her lips, her eyes opening in time to see orange pubic hair thrusting toward her face. Her nose disappeared in the forest of hair, his cock jamming against the roof of her mouth. Metal touched her inner thigh, Wilbur's wristwatch, most likely, she imagined, the senior citizen gulping down her tit flesh like he expected milk to squirt out. He slid another finger inside her. She'd lost count how many. If they could only look for my clit...

CONTROL - Get control.

Camille pushed them off, inhaling the plastic tinted air with a gratefulness she'd never known. God if it didn't smell heavenly compared to the unwashed body odor of the two perverts. Her thighs quivered as she rose, the fear arising in her of her next step.

Sure enough, she slipped on the candy wrappers and fell forward, her hands catching on expired prune jars. This left her on all fours, her sundress teasing up her hips. The two men's jaws slacked as their eyes met.

Now for the main course.

Alvin slid behind her. His sweaty hands pawed her hips and hiked her dress, exposing her bare ass. He drooled, a droplet hanging from his mouth and swaying as he shifted forward. Her lace thong lay off-kilter, its strap stretched beyond repair. The barely there triangle of lace bedeviled his mind and surged blood to his cock. It twitched, her saliva pattering off it to the floor. Ready to corrupt her pristine body further.

She was a sight on all fours. Her well-formed body arched up for him. He ran his hands up her smooth stomach and back again, not a mole or blemish in sight, cherishing her hard-earned fitness she showed off to thousands every game. And that so many men yearned for. Somehow, he was the lucky one to besmirch her.

What am I doing? The thought was interrupted by the springs of the couch groaning and Wilbur plopping in front of her, settling on a torn bag of flour. Its particles drifted upward, above Wilbur's grey-matted chest hair that shined under the flickering flames.

"She's what you call a slut, Alvin," Wilbur said, whistling through his tooth gap. "Go on and get a piece, she can take it. It's what she's made for."

Her face flushed.

"Figure she's taken loads of other people's cherries too."

She froze. Alvin mauled her ass, kneading the flesh like she was a science experiment, pausing for it to snap back to its hourglass shape.

GET OUT OF HERE. GO. But her body didn't obey. She strained her neck upward further until Wilbur's veined meat hung over her, casting a shadow on her face. The shiver that racked her wasn't due to the cold.

Alvin pressed forward, and she could feel her panties being pushed inside her. What a fucking idiot, first time or not. His moist hands dug into her hips, and she closed her eyes, her face still blushing crimson. At this rate he'll never lose his v-card.

In front of her in the darkness Wilbur's plum-like testicles slithered on candy wrappers. God it's disgusting. And I drained it. Every last drop... But deep in her core, nervous energy rippled through her. In parts of her mind she didn't want to admit, the two creeps lusting after her body slicked her pussy and clouded her mind, the situation eluding her usual logic to get up and leave.

I'm a fucking Delamare. We don't... let... perverts touch us... Alvin possessively grabbed her hips. Or... fuck them...

He yanked her lace panties to the side, the force making her hands slip on the flour bag and sending more particles into the candlelit room. Her ass arched for him. Camille was face down, ass up, there to be used however he wanted.

Alvin's chest burned as he hyperventilated at the girl squirming before him. She was exactly the type of girl he'd avoided lusting after - she was far too hot to even fantasize about. He'd seen Wilbur's recordings of her waving pom-poms and flashing the tight stomach he now stroked absentmindedly. Now her bare slit pushed back toward him, her lips slick and swollen. He had no clue if she was on the pill or if he was supposed to wear a condom. All he knew was the impulses firing in his brain told him to move his hips forward, closer to fucking her.

The mushroom shaped head of his cock brushed her slit, eliciting a groan from a part of him he'd never known. With one thrust forward, her hot wet folds enveloped him, rolling his eyes back in his head.

"Ahhh..." He jerked forward, his world squeezed down to the tightness on his cock. "Oh shit..."

Her body caressed and milked him. There was no love in their act, with her pulling her panties further to the side and urging him deeper. Her long black mane was suddenly yanked backward by the afroed creep, aligning her crimson lips right on his host's cock.

"No I don't wannblublblub," she said, Wilbur's gristly tool sliding all the way into her throat.

Camille, first daughter of the Delamare's, cheer captain, and Delta Zeta sister, bounced between the two creeps. Every thrust from Alvin rippled her pert ass, sending her forward to sloppier sucking of Wilbur that pounded her tonsils.

The sounds in the room could have passed for the dirty videos that got kicked out of the Psychiatry Center. Camille's gasps for air, the slapping of skin, the grunts and groans of both men losing themselves in the 20-year-old.

Schlap! Schlap! Schlap!

Even with Alvin hammering her from behind, Camille focused on the cock stretching her cheeks, distorting her face to a bizarre version of its usual beauty. She gagged, but his cock found space deeper in her throat, the raised veins pushing in further. The sensation of two cocks using her arose a new shame for her, one she'd never pondered before. That I'm a nasty little slut, the kind I always looked down on.

Alvin pulled her hair from the ends, forcing her to arch her back and rise up, granting him an even more pronounced angle of her ass. He took full advantage, driving home as deeply as he could. Even with his size, the friction curled Camille's toes in the expanse of candy wrappers.

He stood no chance. Her dress bunched on her hips. His eyes fixated on how her ass snapped back to shape after every bruising thrust. How her body clenched on him, urging him to deposit his load as deeply inside as he could. His instincts pushed his hips forward, leaving him unaware of how hard his fingers dug into her hips.

"I- I'm uh..." his voice cracked. "I- I'm about to cum." His breathing quickened, his hands pulling the cheerleader back. He waited for instruction, but Camille's mouth bore the brunt of Wilbur's aged cock, its stale taste furrowing her brow.

Alvin grunted, spewing his load deep into her guts. She felt him throbbing inside her, the pummeling rhythm reducing to jerks as he leaned over her soft back. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, his cock still inside her. He rubbed her stomach and restarted the rhythm, now more lubricated with his cum. His sweaty hands caressed her with a care like she was his first girlfriend or lover.

Ew, he thinks he's fucking romantic or something.

She finally pulled her lips off Wilbur's cock and gasped for air. "Ahh shit..."

Her mind swirled for a thought to land on and stick with. Not dulled by alcohol this time, Camille was hyper aware of the flames, the chemical stench of plastic, and the cum bubbling out of her pussy. That freak came inside me. I never even let my boyfriend do that. Now this pimply loser will always get to say I was his first. Ugh...

Wilbur marveled at the girl in front of him, how gracefully she moved, and how out of place she looked on all fours elbow deep in trash. She should've been at Fayetteville's finest restaurants being wined and dined, wearing a dress and heels. Not in his fly-filled shack with cum dripping from her bare pussy from the red-haired neighborhood creep. Was this the start of her descent? Or had it already started with his words below the Delta Zeta house?

The room fell silent until he smacked his ears, his hearing aids screeching back to life. Her heaving breaths and Alvin's smooching along her lower back returned in his brain. He grinned, wiggling his tongue between his lips.

"Ready to ride me again, pretty?" As much as the thought of taking the nearly 80-year-old cock disgusted her, the younger man's cock left her needing more.

"Fucking try me," she hissed, pushing Alvin off. His fluids gushed down her thighs.

I'm going to double my lifetime sexual partners in one night. And just... look at them. In the low light of Wilbur's den, Alvin burned holes in her ass. She turned her attention to Wilbur, who stroked his spit lathered cock that his gnarled hands couldn't encircle.

The cheerleader lifted her dress up and over her head. She frowned, her delicate feet sticking to half-eaten candy bits and browned banana peels. Wilbur's eyes roamed up and down her physique, consuming her mentally in ways that sent shivers down her spine.

"Bet your little boyfriend doesn't have one like this," he said, grinning again. A car drove by, its headlights flashing the interior of the house in momentary light, illuminating a particularly large drop of milky precum on his uncut dick. She tried to turn away, to not show him how he affected her, but it was too late.

My god... I hope my pill works. I took it right? Her mind scrambled to earlier that day, after she'd tried several dresses on in front of the mirror and picked the little thong that lay torn off somewhere in the wads of filth. I - I think I did... She still wasn't entirely sure what led her towards the frumpy codger with the outturned ears, but his girth had to do with it. Her pussy tingled at the sight of it. No matter what she said, she had to conquer it.

She bit her lip and eased herself onto his lap. She'd forgotten how ripe Wilbur smelled. She turned away, wanting to pinch her nose, but a twisted hand grabbed hers and placed it on his turgid meat. He couldn't have showered the last week. A fly buzzed around and landed on one of the many scabs on his head.

The contrast between the two lovers couldn't have been broader. With her fit body, honed by years of training and her immaculate diet, her lush long hair and model looks, she could've had any man she chose. He was the human equivalent of mashed potatoes, no definition besides his sunken cheeks and his teeth that'd twisted and fallen as inevitably as his fence.

What would people think of her now? The most stunning girl at the university, already with one load of cum dribbling out of her tight body and slinking toward an elderly man for another?

I didn't even consider afro creep cumming anywhere else. Only inside me... Who else but an actual slut would do that?

Wilbur, on the other hand, lazily stroked his cock and eyed how it bumped her silken stomach in its throbbing, leaving sticky spots below her breasts.

"Hop on, pretty girl."

The void inside her tingled. The very sight of Wilbur's pussy destroyer raced adrenaline throughout her body, her dainty toes curling and uncurling beyond her control. She lifted her hips and closed her eyes. A torrential glob of Alvin's cum spilled down her thigh as Wilbur's uncut monster threatened closer and closer.

It's going to stretch me out so much. Destroy me. Turn me into a loose slut. She lowered her hips anyway. But fuck if it isn't the nastiest... her folds brushed against his unwashed skin... dirtiest... hottest... thing I've ever done.

The second cock of the night impaled Camille Delamare, using the cum from the first as lubrication to slide further inside her.

"Ahhhh, fuck," she whined girlishly. She placed her hands on Wilbur's chest to control how much she sank down on him. Not that it required much effort as his wrist sized cock nudged in only an inch, her pink folds stretched around it to their max.

"Oh my god, you're - you're SO - ah - fucking thick—"

He's literally destroying my pussy. Pain ripped through her. It's not too late to stop... to get out of here. I could go home right now and be no worse off. Besides the fact that ginger weirdo dumped a load inside me.

Wilbur couldn't believe his eyes. He pinched his cheek. It was real, alright. The cheerleader's face furrowed in concentration as his cockhead nestled between her legs, her bare breasts jostling above him. It was too much for the old sod to resist.

As he reached for the 20-year-old, a sharp set of knocks sounded on the front door.

Everyone in the room whipped their eyes around, and Wilbur nodded to Alvin, who pulled up his underwear from under a crushed can of sardines and walked to the entrance. Luckily for Camille, only the flickering candles lit her. Her shoulder blades tensed. But being in the shotgun house meant she wasn't more than twenty feet from the door. Wilbur's pale torso stood out in the darkness like a white blob, and she leaned down, her nose an inch from the sun marred wrinkles visible through the grey hair of his chest. She turned her ear to listen, acutely aware of the enormous cock sawing in and out of her an inch, splitting her lips to their max.

"Wow, hi, did a girl with black hair come by? We're giving out food and don't know where she is." Camille knew the voice.

Monica. Undoubtedly disgusted by the splotches on Alvin's whitey tighties and the smell of sex permeating the house. She froze, mentally begging Alvin to shoo her friend out of there. A simple look inside the house might blow her life.

"Uh, yes..."

If that ginger haired freak couldn't lie once!

"...but she, she went that a way," he said, pointing past 220's collapsed porch and fence.

The door squeaked shut.

"Okay then, thank—" The door clipped her words. Its glass panes rattled.

Camille hissed at Alvin to get her phone. She remained impaled on top of Wilbur, and she rattled off a quick text to Monica about forgetting about a bio test and taking an Uber home. The intrusion startled her, and her head pounded with the body odor of the two slobs. She bit her lip. The phone call with her ex lasted ten seconds but was recorded as two minutes, 38 seconds in the call log. Fuck. She tossed her phone toward her dress, hoping it didn't disappear under spoiled yogurt cups and candy wrappers.

"Let's get this over with," she said, rolling her hips forward. In a moment that would stick with her forever, her body relented, giving way to three more inches of his cock. The air escaped her lungs at the feeling of being skewered by his unreal size, the old man's cock trying to bury itself as deeply as possible inside the girl's body. Still half of its veined length awaited entry.

"MMMMMMM, oh yes, that's a good girl!" Wilbur curled his tongue through the gap of his teeth and wiggled it outward. The scene was altogether ridiculous for Camille, who'd turned down the hottest guys on campus, including the presidents of Sigma Chi and SAE in the last month. His hands twisted and slid down her soft back and pulled, bringing her horizontally on top of him.

Her breasts, already reddened and spit streaked from their earlier mauling, hung in his face, and a second later, she felt his gums clamping down on them. He sucked with force, swirling his tongue on her tender buds. She looked away, wanting to focus on anything but the growing warmth in her core. A hand reached into her hair, a moment's confusion in her brain with both of Wilbur's groping her fit ass.

Alvin's hand disappeared into her lush locks, grazing her neck as she ground her hips. The urge to slap him swept through her. But at the moment, the cock nestled inside her took precedence.

"Oh fuck, that's too big. It's too big!" she moaned as it sawed inside her, splitting her pink pussy lips grotesquely.

He's fucking tearing me apart. I- I won't ever be the same if he keeps going.

"Hmmph, darling, you're only taking half of it."

"That's right, Mr. Wilbur," Alvin said, still caressing her hair.