This is another fictional story, in as much as it didn't happen to me. It is based on the facts relayed to me by a friend, and I have taken some liberties in the telling. I hope you like it, "Amy!" (BTW: my friend ended up with doing post-graduate work with one of the males in this story, and they still see each other occasionally, though she is now married.
Amy rolled her battered Corolla to the curb and looked at the apartment building. It was old, nestled under a canopy of oaks, but not without a certain charm. "Well, I guess this is home," she muttered, glad to be on her own after 18 years of living under her parents' roof. College! The great liberator! She laughed at her own naivete'.
Dianne pulled the borrowed F-250 in behind her, nudging her bumper. "Sorry," she yelled. Dianne was a freshman, too; a kind of clutzy, second-term science major, whom Amy had met while signing up for classes two weeks ago. They hit it off right away, and Diane volunteered to help her move in, since she was already settled. Good thing, Amy thought - it was either that or ask her father to drive up and help ... and that was not going to happen! Diane had begged her boyfriend for his truck, a hulking, rusty behemoth with oversized knobby tires and a rebel flag across the back window, but it had been up to the girls to load and unload it. He was laid up with a broken foot.
"Hey, this isn't bad," Diane said, looking toward the building. "It's got a kind of middle-class retiree feel to it, but hopefully it's clean..." She laughed. Amy had to agree, but the rent was reasonable enough, especially for a college town.
"C'mon, let's get this over with." Amy pulled the tailgate down and grabbed her little Swiffer, a must-have for any college student, then headed for the apartment. It was ground-floor, also a plus.
They had gotten most of the small stuff into the building when the two guys showed up. They looked older than either of the girls by a couple of years. Both were casually dressed in shorts and t-shirts, and looked like they'd been working out. They were attractive, both of them. The blonde one extended his hand toward Amy. "I'm Brian," he said. "You must be Amy." She was surprised. She hadn't met him before. He was beach-boy blonde enough and muscular enough that she should have remembered that, she mused. "I'm the building super," he explained. "Well, that and the maintenance man, the postman, the rent collector, and the guy who keeps track of who's moving in and who's moving out." He smiled, and Amy noticed his white teeth. And a hunk, she thought, as she shook his hand.
His friend, who was already chatting Dianne up, introduced himself to the girls as Jack. They all shook hands. Jack was, if anything, even better looking than Brian, tall and thick-chested, with black hair and piercing blue eyes. He set his paper Starbucks cup down and asked, "Can we give you a hand moving in?"
"Wow, thanks," Amy said, grateful for the help getting the bureau and bedframe off the truck, and perhaps more than a little anxious to watch all those muscles get put to work. She glanced at Dianne, who gave her a wink.
"Paydirt!" Diane sang, in a falsetto voice, and high-fived Amy when they guys weren't looking.
After the truck was unloaded and the furniture situated, Brian went back to his apartment and returned with a 12-pack of beer. "House-warming gift," he said, handing Amy a cold one. She didn't drink, normally, but it felt good in her hand. They were all sweaty. A toast was made. "To many happy days ... and especially nights, in Amy's new abode," Brian joked. Dianne said, "Here, here!" a little too loudly, prompting more laughter.
By the time dusk came, the four of them were still sitting around Amy's un-decorated, rapidly darkening living room, talking about their lives to that point and drinking now-warm beer. Dianne had been teasing her new friend shamelessly with her little comments about Amy's being single, and how lonely it must be for a girl on her own. Amy liked the attention. At one point, they let the guys talk them into kissing each other on a dare, and Amy had to admit she enjoyed that, too. Now Dianne was leaning into Jack, and Brian's arm had found its way around her shoulder. She thought about kissing him. She wondered how those lips would feel on hers, but she wasn't quite drunk enough to initiate anything, and he seemed hesitant, as well.
When Brian and Jack went upstairs to unlock the electrical box, Dianne walked unsteadily over to Amy. "Omigod, Amy!" She slurred her words. "Do you believe these guys? I'm in fucking love!" The mousy blonde's nipples were very prominent beneath her thin top. Neither girl was wearing a bra, and she was sure the guys had noticed, early on.
She laughed at Dianne. "Easy, sister," she teased. "What about the boyfriend back at your apartment? The one with the broken hand?"
Diane laughed loudly. "Who? Oh, 'whats-his-name?'" She pfffffttttted, sending a plume of beer-laced spittle into the air. "Hell, baby, he's laid up. Damaged goods! Jack's in perfect shape! And I mean. perfect!"
Amy had to agree. Brian was no slouch, either, but the little voice in her head kept saying that she didn't really know either of them that well yet. She was infatuated, for sure, and horny as hell, but she knew better than to be taking any guy at face value. She tried to tell Dianne that, but her friend was too far gone. Now Amy started to long for the peace and quiet of her own place. The light in the little kitchen came on.
"You're in business," Brian said as he came through the door. He resumed his seat on the floor next to Amy, and took a long swig of his beer.
"Where's Jack?" Dianne sounded disappointed.
"Oh, he'll be along in a while," Brian said. "He went out for more beer."
The little voice sounded off in Amy's head again, the one that sounded just like her mother. Reluctantly, she decided she'd better put a stop to this, now. She had her first class early tomorrow, and didn't want to end up hung over in the morning.
"Oh. Well..." she said. "Dianne, don't you have to get Ol' 'what's-his-name's' truck back to him?" she prompted. Amy hoped she'd take the hint, or at least notice that it was getting late.
Surprisingly, Diane got it. "Oh, crap!" she said suddenly. "You're right. Steve's gonna kill me!" Reluctantly, she grabbed her beer and walked to the sink, where she poured the rest of it out. Then she gazed wistfully at Brian and asked him to tell Jack she was sorry.
Amy walked her to the truck, whispering "Well, at least you remembered Steve's name!"
Diane laughed. Then she looked over her shoulder at my building. "Yeah, I'll bet you won't forget his name, either," she teased. "You know, I think you just want both of them for yourself!"
"Oh, please!" Amy laughed and called her a slut, then waited while she maneuvered the big truck out into the street. She waved a goodbye and told Diane to drive safely. As she returned to her apartment, she directed her thoughts toward her guest. How do I get rid of Brian gracefully? she pondered. She really needed to call her mom and then get her bed made up to sleep in. It had been a long day.
As expected, Brian was still sitting on the floor when she returned, but he stood up as she set about picking up Jack and Dianne's discarded cans from their side of the room. "Well, I guess I'll have to throw you out," she joked. "I really need to get some sleep."
"So soon?" His voice had a definite edge to it, and Amy wondered briefly if it came from disappointment or anger. He warned, "Jack's gonna be pretty upset, you know. He wanted for us to keep the party going."
Amy turned to him, suddenly serious. "Listen, Brian," she said, "I really appreciate you guys helping out, but it's late. Can I look you up tomorrow after classes?" She walked over and dropped a handful of cans into the paper sack that would serve as her trashbin until she got one, then turned back to gather up the others. Brian was standing directly behind her as she turned, and she almost walked into him.
"Just like that," he whispered, taking her forearms in each of his hands.
His voice was tense, too tense. Amy looked up into his eyes. There was no mistaking the desire there. She felt it, too, to be honest, but it was too soon. He was gripping her arms with his hands, his foot between hers, so close that she could feel the powerful heat of his body.
"Bria..." Then his mouth was on hers and they were kissing, and it wasn't upleasant, even though he still had her arms pinned to her sides. He was a great kisser. She relaxed slightly as his tongue touched her lips, and she felt his grip on her forearms loosen. I could melt into him, she thought, as their kiss lingered. Let him take me away for a night... It would have been so easy.
Then her reason returned, and she pulled back, breaking the kiss. She frowned at him. "Brian, I really, really am sorry, but this is a little too soon," she told him. His face fell, and she could see the disappointment there. He probably thinks I'm nothing but a tease, she thought.
Jack returned at that moment. "Hey, where's the party?" he asked in a jovial voice. Then he noticed Amy and Brian, in their weird embrace. "Oh," he said. "Looks like my date cut out. I guess the party's over, huh?"
Amy started to pull away, but Brian's grip on her forearms tightened again. He looked over at Jack, grinned, and said, "No, no. Not at all." Then he looked at Amy as he said, "That other bitch left, but Amy's in the mood. Aren't you, babe?" There was definite malice in his words, and she didn't like the sudden turn this was taking. She again tried to back away from him, but he wouldn't let her. Instead, he pulled her into his embrace again, and this time he forced his lips against hers.
Amy turned her face, but he turned with her, and pasted his lips against hers. Forcing her head back with his, she was throw off balance. He held her there, bent backwards, and kissed Amy intently while she struggled to pull her arms free. Then Jack was behind her, and any help she might have imagined from him dissolved when his hands went to her breasts.
"Mmmmmm, nice tits," he said, as he groped at them through her tank top. "I've been wanting to see these all afternoon." His hands yanked the hem of her top upward, baring Amy's breasts as she groaned and tried to free herself from Brian's commanding grasp.
By the time Brian's mouth left hers, she had started to cry. She was scared. "Brian, please," she begged as they lowered her to the floor, "Not like this." Neither man spoke. Brian positioned himself atop the writhing girl, his knees forcing her own apart, as Jack held her wrists above her head. He then ripped at the neckline of Amy's flimsy top, tearing it most of the rest of the way off before reaching for the snap of her shorts. She tried to kick, but his weight was too much for her, and with a couple of tugs, her shorts and panties were around her thighs.
"Now let's see what this pussy feels like," Brian grated, as Jack held Amy's arms out straight above her and put his weight on her wrists. She felt like a butterfly pinned to a board, naked and vulnerable. Brian tugged her shorts down past her knees, then put his own knees on them, trapping her legs. His fingers worked their way roughly between the lips of her pussy and inside her. It hurt. "This little piggy's wet," he said teasingly, and Amy knew it was true. She could hear the sounds his fingers made inside her, and cursed herself for the secretions he'd discovered.
Amy strained uselessly against the two of them as Brian's fingers left her pussy and he settled his weight over her. And then, with one savage thrust, she was impaled on his throbbing cock. She screamed. Jack's hand went to her mouth. Amy heard his voice above her asking tensely, "Is it tight?" as if it wasn't her there; just her pussy.
Brian groaned, then answered. "Tight as hell."
He thrust again. She could feel the thickness of his cock, and tried to clench herself closed to him. He was boring into her, opening her. Stealing my dignity, she thought for one self-important moment. In reality, she knew better. She was wet inside; sloppy wet. Her own body refused to support the lie her mind was telling her. Now, as he began to pound in and out of her, she gave in and let herself go away, to a fantasy she'd had for years.
Amy had dreamed about being taken forcibly many times. It was a recurring source of pleasure, and thoughts of her submission provided the boost she sometimes needed when she masturbated. Now it was really happening, and she found herself giving into the fantasy turned reality, willingly. The apartment seemed full of the wet sounds of their sex, and it turned her on. Brian was talking, telling Jack what a tight piece of ass she was and how much he loved feeling her pussy wrapped around his cock. He called her a slut and a tease. He told Amy how he loved her little titties. And with every degrading word, she was drawing closer and closer to a climax.
When she fell over that abyss, Brian knew it. He yelled, "Goddam! She's cumming! Oh fuck, yeah!" He renewed his thrusting as Amy's cunt gripped and caressed his cock, and it wasn't many strokes before he groaned and began to shoot his load deep inside her. She came again, and then again, crying out into the palm of Jack's hand.
When Jack released her wrists, Amy clutched at Brian possessively, pulling him tightly into her. He laughed and shoved her back against the floor, then pulled from her and rose to his knees.
"Your turn, buddy," he said casually, and Jack scrambled to position himself between the girl's thighs before she began to fight again. He needn't have worried. Amy wanted him, too. She wrapped her ankles behind his knees as he settled over her, and when he entered her, Amy sighed with the pleasure of his cock.
"Oh, fuck yeah," he groaned. His big balls slapped against her ass as she hiked her hips upward, taking him as deeply as she could. Glancing upward at Brian, Amy saw his slimy cock hanging over her face, still half-hard and dripping with their combined juices. He was smiling, watching Jack's hips as he thrust into the girl. If he had knelt over her, she would have taken his cock in her mouth and cleaned it of cum. She was that aroused.
Jack was even thicker than Brian, and his cock was longer. It filled Amy in a way no boy ever had, and she groaned with a combination of pleasure and pain. He stroked smoothly, long full strokes that brought him nearly out of her, and then deep inside again. His cock head nudged her cervix with every stroke, making her gasp each time it did. Amy's nails found his back beneath his shirt, and she dug them into his skin. He didn't seem to notice, he was so deeply embedded in her belly.
"Good pussy, right?" It was Brian. Amy opened her eyes again to see him stroking himself hard, and at that moment she started to cum again. Knowing that Brian was going to fuck her again as soon as Jack had planted his seed alongside his, drove her lust to new heights. She wanted to be fucked all night long. If this was going to be the start to her college days, she was ready to plunge in, head-first!
Tiring of the missionary position, Jack pushed Amy back against the floor with his big hands and grabbed her around the waist. With her ankles locked around his own waist, he rose up, until the only thing touching the floor was the top of the girl's head. Her tank top hung in tatters around her neck as he held her there, his cock buried deep inside her. Amy flailed at the floor with both hands. Jack growled like a bear; a gutteral claim of ownership, as Brian urged him on. Then, holding onto her hips, he fucked her like a porn star, while she tried to protect her head from being split open on the floor.
By the time Jack came, Amy was dizzy from the pressure of the blood in her head. She could feel his load coating her urethra and sliding deep inside her. Her legs gave out, then, and she slid to the floor, her pussy grasping uselessly at his still-spurting cock.
Now it would be Brian's turn again. Amy smiled wanly up at him.
Around two A.M. they were finished with her, but lingered long enough to pour a can of beer over her face to wake her up. The refrigerator had been working; the beer was now frigid. Amy sat up, gasping. She watched them as they dressed, and couldn't believe it was her voice asking, "Ar... are you coming back?" She had been on her back on the bare mattress for the last hour, her ass in a pool of their fluids.
Brian walked over to her and stared down, then nodded.
"Oh, yeah," he said softly, "Every day. And maybe we'll see to that little friend of yours next time, too." Then he laughed, and out they went, without even looking back at her.
Amy lay back on the mattress, smiling dreamily, anticipating.