Gushing Greta Ch. 01

"I'm sure that you understand how the way you look, the clothes you wear, have a direct influence over the way others perceive you, correct?"

I didn't know what else he wanted me to say. I'm not the one making us wear these uniforms. I made a mistake, one that everyone makes at some point in time. Even 18 year old girls like myself. Clothes shrink, and the white polo I have to wear (against my will) shrunk. I didn't notice it until I pulled it out of the dryer, and I was already running late. My plan was to keep my books in front of my chest, and pull the skirt up to cover the parts of my upper body that my shirt no longer covered. At first, I thought, 'this isn't too short, it'll be fine'. And then I got off the bus, noticed some leering eyes on her. Yeah, too short. The shirt was tight and push my already perky breasts up like it was show and tell and I just got them for my birthday. So now I was being forced to wear this over-sized sweater, that's so baggy I'm guessing they got it from the Break In Case of Slut emergency kit somewhere in the back.

I'm kind of just sick and tired of being treated like some innocent kid being carefully airlifted through life by overbearing parents and authority figures. I'm pretty. I've got a nice body. I like when people look at me with a little glimmer of desire in their eyes. Every guy I date acts like it's the 18th century and we're going to spend our time waltzing and declaring our feeling in overlong, churched up monologues. Sometimes, I really just want someone to grab me, without even asking, and just--

"Am I making myself clear?" Principal Sankey was in his early '40s and used to play defensive tackle in the NFL, so when he put on his tough voice, you listened.

"Yes, sir," I said as I got up from my chair. I left his office and walked into the empty hallway. School had already let out and it was the last week before Christmas break, so pretty much everyone was gone, I was sure. I headed to my locker to grab my coat before I walked home.

My locker, just like any other senior's, was toward the back of the school near the showers. Did someone turn the heat off? I felt a cool breeze, steadily gliding across the pale inside of my thighs. I turn a corner and I see my locker, just past the boy's locker room. As I walk by, I over hear some boys talking.

"Hey, did you see Greta today?" Sounds kind of like Ryan Stoney, but I'm not sure. He's one of the more popular kids in my school, though infamous is more fitting. Everyone suspects he sells weed and Adderall, but I don't know for sure. He's tall and thin, but not athletic. He doesn't play sports, but he's close enough to that circle that you wouldn't know it.

"No, why?" Pretty sure that's Mike Stockton. Just one of Ryan's cronies, really. The only thing he's known for is his gigantic penis and the frequency with which he will show it off.

"I'm not really sure what's up with her, but she was wearing this way too small shirt and you could see her tits," Ryan said.

"No way, you couldn't see her tits," Mike replied.

"Well, you could see her bra and it was working overtime. Those puppies were gasping for air." Ryan added, "And dude, her skirt was pulled up and you could definitely see the bottom of her ass."

"Pretty nice?" Mike asked.

"Textbook bubble-butt, man."

My face was getting red listening to them. I've never heard anyone talk about me in a way that didn't involve my "scholarly prospects" or "go-getter attitude". The idea of being someone's sexual object had never occurred to me. And now that it had, I could feel myself getting wet. Aren't I supposed to be offended at the thought of being objectified? I had unconsciously moved my hand over the dampest region of my panties.

"I'm feeling' like pizza tonight. You down?" Ryan asked. I could hear them leaving the locker room. I scurried over to my locker nearby, spinning the lock to open it and grab my sweater. They're going to see me, I thought. Maybe they'll be too embarrassed at the possibility of me overhearing their conversation that they'll ignore me. I just focused on my locker, looking down, as they emerged from the locker room.

"Have you tried that new place, Pizza Town? It's over by...," Mike trailed off. I heard their footsteps stop, undoubtedly at the sight of me in front of them.

"Hey, Greta. What are you doing here so late?" Ryan asked.

"Uh, just, I'm just leaving," I stammered.

"Did you hear us talking about you just now?" Ryan moved closer, leaning against the locker like he was a dreamy male lead in a romantic comedy.

"Yeah, a little bit," I admitted.

"How did that make you feel?" Ryan reached out and touched my shoulder. I recoiled just a little bit, surprised at the contact. But didn't hate it.

"I don't know." I was bemused at the sudden sexual attention.

"Probably don't hear people talk about you in that way often," he told me, correctly.

"Uh, yeah, not so much," I mumbled, smiling weakly.

"I never noticed until today, but you probably have the nicest ass in the whole school." I was still facing the locker, kind of caught in headlights.

"Can we see it?" Ryan was closer to me, almost whispering. He had that nice out-of-the-shower smell, and I could feel the heat from his skin radiating towards me.

"I, uh, I think that's kind of, it's a little, you know, it's inappropriate, probably." I didn't know what I wanted. I was definitely turned on, but I couldn't think straight.

"I'll just lift up your skirt, you don't have to do anything," he said, like a promise. I should have said no, and if the scenario played out infinitely, 9 times out of 10, that's exactly how it would have gone. But never tell me the odds, I guess.

I nodded, slightly. My face towards the locker in front of me. Ryan smiled big and I felt him place his hand on my back, running it down lower and resting it on my ass as his hand searched for the edge of my skirt. When he found it, he peeled it up, holding it against my lower back with his left hand as he gently squeezed my cheeks, jiggling to produce the desired effect.

"Shit, man, you weren't kidding," Mike exclaimed. He stepped up next to me, opposite Ryan, and they both squeezed and massage my buttocks together, alternatively praising its soft firmness. I was enjoying the attention and touch of their hands over my ass when I let a small moan slip out. They stopped in place.

"Dude, she's into it." Mike told Ryan. Ryan then lifted up my cheeks with both hands, confirming his suspicion before I even realized what he was doing.

"Fuck, bro, she's dripping wet," Ryan said proudly. He let go of my skirt, taking hold of my arm and flipping me around, the locker banging loudly as my back hits. "You like this shit, baby? Getting felt up by people you don't know?"

My head wants to say No, of course not! But I've clearly been betrayed by my sopping pussy, dripping like a wrung out hand towel. Ryan continued his interrogation.

"Too bad they made you put this big sweater on. I was really enjoy those supple titties of yours. Do you like the thought of guys popping boners watching them bounce around school?" I couldn't catch myself, answering truthfully.

"Yeah, I do."

Ryan reach out to my sweater, starting to pull it up but I pushed it down. I had to maintain some kind of control, but I found myself foaming at the thought of what these boys could do to me. I've read about sexual awakenings, firsthand accounts in blogs and various forums online, but didn't understand would it really feel like. But I think I was starting to.

"Oh, you're a good girl, now?" He asked. I shook my head. I don't know why, I probably should have broken away and left. He pushed his hand up my torso, between my breasts, past my throat and grip the left side of my face. He touched his thumb to my full lips, pushing my bottom lip down.

"Has this good little girl ever sucked a dick before?" Ryan pushed his thumb into my mouth. My natural reflex was to suck. He pushed and pulled, back and forth, and I played along. "Yeah, you know what to do, don't you?" I nodded. He pulled his thumb out, wet with my saliva, and wiped it over my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, I'm about to cum already," Mike admitted. The enormous bulge in his pants that he was massaging indicated that he was telling the truth. "Think she likes big dicks?" he wondered. Ryan looked at me.

"Well, how do you like your dicks? Big and fat?" Ryan smirked. I froze, not sure what to say, but again my body betrayed me. I nodded.

"What was that? I didn't hear you say anything?" His tone became slightly more aggressive. I nodded, again, nervous.

"Are you fucking stupid? Do you speak, bitch?" His language was getting harsher, but he still had a kind of laidback quality to it that was difficult to comprehend. Ryan took my left hand and forced between my legs, and I couldn't help myself. I started rubbing my clit immediately and a bedraggled moan escaped from behind my lips. I lost it. All I wanted them to take me. Fuck me like some whore in a porno. I wanted to be objectified. "What do you like, Greta?"

"I like big, fat dicks." My eyes watered. I had a river of pent up sexual frustration inside of me and I just knocked down the fucking dam. Ryan suddenly grabbed, throwing my petite, 5'5" frame over his shoulder, and marching me through the locker room and into the gym. He put me down near a weightlifting station.

"Get on your knees," Ryan demanded. I obeyed, settling down onto my knees. Mike stepped towards me, dropping his athletic shorts to his ankles and then kicking them away. He held his cock in front of my face. I'd seen it before, everyone had, but it was monstrous up close. I'd seen some videos online of a male porn star named something like "Nacho" or "Taco" or something, and Mike's cock looked pretty comparable to his.

"Tell him what you want, baby," Ryan told me, in a mysteriously sweet tone.

"I want you to fuck my face," I said.

"Oh, yeah?" Mike shot back. "I don't believe you." I was rubbing myself pretty hard at this point, likely leaving a pool of wetness beneath me.

"Please, I want your fat dick in my mouth. Please." I gave him a pouty face, and that seemed to convince him. I opened up my mouth and he grabbed my dark, black hair and stuck it in as far as he could. I gagged and started to pull back but he held on, holding me in place. He pulled back but not out, instead pushing back in, deeper than before. I could feel him getting harder as he thrusted. He maintained a steady rhythm, never letting me close my mouth. I started drooling around his cock, feeling it drip down my chin and dangle, before splashing onto my emergency slut sweater. I glanced to my right, seeing that Ryan and pulled his own cock out. His was smaller than Mike's, but still larger than average. I reached out with my right hand and started to jerk him off.

"Fuck, Mike, this little whore can't get enough," Ryan said proudly. "Let me fuck her dumb face, man." Mike pulled out, leaving me with a glob of spit around my chin and jaw.

"Your makeup is getting all runny, see?" Ryan said, turning my head to face the wall, which happened to be a giant mirror. One of those you find in dance studios. I had spit all over the front of my sweater, and my mascara was running down my cheeks, making me look like I'd been crying all night long. My lipstick was smeared across my mouth like I was in some kind of gender bending Joker cosplay. "Who's the pretty girl?"

"Me. I am," I answered. "And I look prettiest with a dick in my mouth," added.

"And what are you good for?" Ryan inquired. It was stupid, but all I could think of was that Eric Burdon song, "War". It was just burnt into my brain, like an automatic call-and-response. I responded without nearly any hesitation.

"Absolutely nothing," I declared.

"That's right, just our little fuck doll." Ryan crammed his cock into my mouth, which easily slid nearly all the way in, his balls tapping my chin. He fucked me more aggressively than Mike had. I gagged and spit, adding to the ever burgeoning DNA sample collecting on my sweater. Then he pulled out. Mike had left at some point, and was returning now with a stack of three towels. I figured this was it, they were going to clean me up and we'd go our separate ways. Then Ryan grabbed my haired and pulled me towards the bench press. Mike put the stack of towels toward one of the ends, and they laid me face down, bent over on the bench. My face stuck out over one end, and my bottom pointed up above the opposite end.

"Mike here is going that sweaty, wet pussy of yours while I cum down your whorish throat," Ryan told me, leaving know room for objection. He pulled up a stool and in front of me, his cock pointed up at my face, shimmering with light reflected from my saliva all over his dick. He pushed my head down onto it, but let me go at my own pace. Then I felt Mike push my skirt out of the way, and then grabbed the bottom of my panties and ripped them off of me. So much for that cute pair.

"I'm about to ruin this shit, whore. You ready for that?" Mike emphasized this with a hard slap to my ass cheek. I moaned with enthusiasm around Ryan's dick.

Mike pressed the head of his cock into the entrance of my pussy, and I let out a screech over Ryan's dick, slightly biting down out of shock. Mike slowly pressed in as Ryan grabbed my head, pulling it off his cock and slapping me across the face. Tears welled up in my eyes and fell.

"Did that fucking hurt, bitch?" I nodded, pouting. "Then don't bite down. Can you manage that or are you too dumb?" Mike pressed in deeper behind me, I let out a pained moan. I apparently was taking too long to answer, as Ryan slapped me again.

"Mike, I think this whore might be actually stupid." Mike was so thick, I'd never experienced this kind of pleasure before in my life. He was pushing in and out now, only fitting about half of it in. I was having trouble focusing, which Ryan was all too prepared to rectify. He slapped me a third time and I started crying. Not full on Grey's Anatomy weeping, but enough to whimper.

"Hey, you cunt, fucking answer me. Are you going to do better or are you an idiot?" Ryan asked, impatient. I nodded, wiping some tears away, feeling the heat of his slap on my cheek.

"Yeah, yes, sir, I'll do better," I pleaded.

"Thank god, I thought we had literally fucked her brains out." Ryan laughed and so did Mike. They high-fived as I went to work.

Mike was getting more and more of his cock stuff into my pussy as I was doing my best to suck off Ryan. I could feel the veins in his cock starting to pulse in my mouth, which I assumed meant he was about to cum. It was confirmed moments later when he took control and started fucking his cock deep into my mouth, tickling my throat. Mike plowed harder and Ryan pulled out, cumming in thick ropes across my face. In my hair, between my eyes, down the sides of my cheek.

"All right, Mike. Rip that shit apart and let's head out." Mike relentlessly assaulted my beat-red cunt with his humongous member. I moaning and shrieking when I realized I was cumming all over his pulsating cock. He was approaching his climax when he started burying his shaft inside me to the hilt. I cried out in pain.

"Ow! Fuck, ow, you're hurting me!" I shrieked.

"Fuck off, you love it whore," he fired back, plunging deeper and faster.

"Oh, fuck, please cum, please, it hurts!" I cried.

"Take it, you fucking slut! You love it, you filthy whore," he yelled. And then, just like that, he pulled out and grabbed my hair, jerking me back so hard I fell onto my back below him. He stood over me, jacking himself off as he looked down at me. He came, thicker, longer ropes than Ryan, showering down over me. On my sweater, face, in my hair, and generally all over me. I thought it might look like someone had drawn a chalk outline of me, but with cum.

Ryan was back, handing Mike a towel. He wiped his cock clean.

"Who do you belong to?" Ryan asked.

"You," I answered, obediently.

"And what are you?" he added.

"I'm a whore."

"Yeah, we noticed." Ryan and Mike laughed, leaving the locker room. I looked over at the mirror, looking at myself with awe. My face was a sloppy, distorted mess of spit and ejaculate. My hair was sticky with cum, the sweater ruined, and a thin line of blood trickled down my leg. I had been a virgin after all. But what I really noticed, above all else, is that person I saw in front of me was the person I'd truly always wanted to be. Something for someone to fuck.