Party Gone Wild

It'd been a while since I attended a university party; what made me go, I don't know. Perhaps, it was frustration engendered by the whole pandemic shitstorm that kept me locked inside for two years. It felt good being in a crowded room illumined only by a handful of white spotlights hanging from the ceiling, all dolled up and ready to have some fun.

I was wearing a short, black dress with a deep cleavage - I didn't get implants, after all, to keep the puppies stuffed under sweaters - and high heels; my hair caught in a high ponytail; just enough makeup, nothing excessive. Having gone without panties gave me a strange tingling sensation of both excitement and regret. If I bent over, I'd flash everyone in the vicinity; similarly, whenever I sat down on a chair, I offered a quick peek of my pussy to those attentive enough to look.

Holding my plastic cup with a gin and tonic, I leaned against the tall table operating like a bar and looked around at the students standing around the room, drinking, talking, and laughing.

Due to my teaching some classes, I knew a lot of the students and I couldn't afford to get really drunk, no matter how much I wanted to let loose. It was weird letting them see me with a drink in hand and in clothes that looked nothing like the usual outfits I wore at the university. No matter how hard I reminded myself I was still young, I could not stop feeling like the weird uncle always sitting with the youngsters at all family dinners.

"Hey, Maria, nice to see you here," someone said. I blinked at the five people--three men, two women--that suddenly had engirdled me, their eyes gleaming with the glow of gentle intoxication.

I knew they were in one of my classes; what their names were, I had no clue.

"You definitely look different," one of the young men commented.

I mustered up the brightest, friendliest smile I could. I wanted to come off as friendly and approachable--after all, it was a party and I did intend to have fun--but I feared I'd lose whatever respect they had for me as an "authority" figure.

"Well," I said, "you also look different; what with your ironed shirts and nice pants, instead of the sweatpants and stained t-shirts I usually see you in."

"It's a party; dressing up is kinda mandatory, isn't it?" He said with a wink.

I could feel the men's eyes scanning me from head to toe; I didn't really mind the ogling, it just irritated me that it came from my students. I didn't know (or maybe didn't want to know) what it might mean for the rest of the semester. Would they just picture me in my barely-there dress every time I tried to teach?

Well, I should have thought of that before going to the party.

"How about some shots?" One of the girls chirped.

"Hell yeah," the guy that first approached me--an admittedly handsome, tall man with a great body and dark hair half-covering his ears--barked. "Shots of tequila, for all of us. You will have one with us, right?"

"Sure," I nodded and tucked some unruly hair behind my ear.

Of course, the shots were of the cheapest possible tequila they could find. Nothing fancy, nothing tasty; just a shot of gut-burning, felonious liquid that forced me immediately to chase it with a refreshing sip from my gin and tonic.

"Wow, you sure know how to drink," he remarked while his friends were coughing and his eyes had turned somewhat watery. "Another round?"

"Are you sure you can handle it?" I bit the corner of my lips and nodded to the bartender--another student of mine but, if memory served, a senior--for another round.

"Damn, our teacher's hardcore," one of the girls giggled when I handed the shots around.

I wasn't trying to show off--okay, maybe a little. Coming from a long line of drunks, I've always had a natural tolerance; training my liver since I turned sixteen helped me develop a tolerance that often put men twice my size to shame.

Especially as a teenager visiting nightclubs and bars, my alcohol tolerance helped me evade various potentially bad situations; men would often try to get me drunk, for obvious reasons, but all they accomplished was going under the table while I gently staggered into the gentle night, finding my way home unscathed.

We downed the shot and I grinned at them bulging their cheeks and coughing their lungs out while I nipped on my gin and tonic. I decided not to order another round; showing off was pointless and I didn't want to be the reason they turned green in the morning.

Naturally, them being younger and far more eager to party, they ordered another round; then another. The girls began staggering about, barely able to stay on their feet, while the guys leaned against the bar, drawing deep breaths and struggling to look unaffected, doing a rather awful job at it.

The succession of tequila shots, washed down with gin and tonic, did get me into a wonderful state of gentle intoxication. I ordered another drink and strolled around the large hall of the cafeteria being greeted by more of my students.

They all had similar reactions to my outfit and to my being at the party. A wide, lucent smile appeared on my face and genuine elation traversed my body when I encountered some of my old classmates sitting at a corner table. Finally, some people who had seen me at parties and knew I'm more than the conservatively dressed TA trying to explain basic concepts of philosophy to bored students.

We sat together for a while, reminiscing on our pre-grad years, where the responsibilities were fewer and the time to have fun far more ample. The drinks I'd poured down the gullet finally kicked in and I excused myself to go to the restroom; the need to pee was becoming painful and I wasn't going to embrace the trend of holding it till the last possible minute in order to experience an orgasm.

At least, I wouldn't start doing it at a crowded party, risking urinating myself and causing a spectacle. I crossed the room, saw the long lines outside the restrooms next to the cafeteria, and couldn't help but smirk as I trotted down the corridor.

A good thing about spending several years at the same university is you get to learn all of its "secrets"; nothing novel-worthy obviously but I knew where the nearest hallways reserved for professors and post-grad students that most students didn't know about were and had access to them.

I could have been a doll and informed some of the twitching and groaning students standing in line about the location of the other restrooms but, on the other hand, why ruin something good? If I kept downing gin and tonics, I was bound to need more restroom visits and I'd rather avoid lone lines.

As I headed down the fairly dark hallway--only one light out of four was turned on, to conserve energy since almost no one would be there in the middle of the night--I heard some clicking sounds behind me. I paid no attention to it. Sometimes, professors or grad students spend a night in their offices, especially when they were dealing with deadlines.

I entered the unisex restroom that only had two stalls. My sigh of relief, of almost orgasmic joy, when I sat on the toilet reverberated across the small room. After I was done, I drew a deep breath, wiped, and got up. As I was about to open the stall's door, I froze, my hand wrapped around the cold knob but not daring to turn it.

Some heavy breathing reached my ears; heavy, half-drunk breathing. I closed my eyes and tried to dismiss my paranoia; probably one of my old classmates also in need of a bathroom visit. Nothing to worry about.

"Hey, Maria," the tall young man with the tequila shots greeted me as he leaned against the booth's wall, his muscular arms crossed around his chest.

His friend leaned against the closed door of the restroom. He, too, was quite muscular, albeit not as tall, and had long, light-blond hair caught in a bun. A single word crossed my mind: fuck. I did my best to maintain a nonchalant attitude as I went to the sink to wash my hands. While doing it, I kept tabs on the men through the mirror.

"I can't believe how hot you look," the tall one said. " I mean, you are beautiful, even your usual outfits can't hide it, but I never thought you'd be so fucking stunning."

"Thanks," I mumbled and took my sweet time drying up my hands with some paper towels.

I was trying to devise a way out but as long as the shorter guy remained by the door, I was trapped in there, with two half-drunk guys; the glint in their eyes had my heart thundering behind my ear.

"I gave you a great fucking compliment and all you could say as a response was a cold thanks?" He asked, raising his voice as he strode towards me.

With the restroom being quite narrow, his body trapped me against the corner. "Alright, look, this isn't funny, okay? Just...let's all go back to the party and forget this ever happened, okay?"

"Back to the party? So fast? Why? We could have our own little party here; it'll be more fun, too, I promise."

A click sound echoed in the room; the short man had locked the door and was now standing next to his buddy. I gulped as they stood in front of me sporting wide, stupid grins.

I could try kicking them on the balls and dash to the door while they were crouched down, groaning in pain. Unlocking the door wouldn't be too much of a hassle. What I doubted was my ability to kick both of them before either one could react. My high heels were not made for running; they would easily catch me if I tried to run.

Considering their inebriated state, agitating them further was not a good idea. I groaned and bit my lips down when the tall man grabbed my tits, clumsily squeezing and twisting them.

"I knew they were fake!" He ejaculated. "You owe me a drink, man," he said to his friend.

"Damn it," he spat before fondling my breasts while his friend moved his hands down on my ass.

My back stiffened and I shuddered under their crude touches. Sometimes, you have fantasies involving situations like this but, no matter how many wet dreams and/or orgasms you've had thanks to said fantasies, you're never prepared for it actually happening.

Besides, when fantasizing, or even almost lucid dreaming, about it, you're absolutely safe; inside that restroom, with two visibly intoxicated young, muscular men groping me, safety did not exist even as an abstract concept.

The complete lack of control over the situation gave rise to a bizarre dichotomy within me: the sensible part of me screamed for me to find a way out while a deeper part of my psyche told me to stay and enjoy it. At the same time, not resisting also increased my chances of not agitating them and, potentially, making them let their guard down which would offer me a way out.

I gasped when the short guy yanked the top part of my dress down, exposing my breasts. "Damn," he chuckled and pinched my nipples, "why do you insist on hiding these babies with those sweaters you usually wear? I'd pay more attention to your classes if you showcased those delicious melons."

"You wouldn't pay attention, you idiot," the tall guy chided him, right after spanking my ass hard enough to cause my heels to leave the floor, "you'd just ogle and jerk off. That's why she's hiding them. But not anymore, ain't that right?" He gave me a smirk that sent chills down my rigid spine, then slapped my tits hard enough that I had to use all my remaining willpower to fight against the jolts of pain and not go down to my knees.

My eyes bugged out when the tall guy wrapped his hand around my neck and pushed me against the wall, squeezing my windpipe hard enough to make me dizzier and more lightheaded than the booze I had thitherto consumed. "You're gonna be a good girl for us, right? You're not gonna start screaming or, even worse, rat us out, huh?"

I gawked at him, my eyesight turning blurry from the reduced amount of oxygen reaching my spinning brain, unsure of what to reply. The glint of hate in his eyes informed me that I couldn't do what the rational part of my mind said, namely to bring my knee up to his balls and make a dash for it. He was a mean drunk, or, at least, a drunk with the tendency to explode in fits of anger; not the kind of person you want to infuriate.

Could I go with it? I couldn't tell just how drunk they were; what if their hydraulics failed? Would they blame me for it?

"Answer him, damn it," the short guy barked and slapped my tits with enough power to cause my knees to buckle, and only the tall guy's grip around my neck held me up.

"I'll be good, yes," I said in a murmur, struggling to push the words out of my squeezed windpipe.

"Good," the tall guy said and let go of my throat. The film of anger dissipated from his eyes as fast as it had appeared.

The moment his hand left my throat, I crumbled down to my knees--to their great amusement, as their guffaws blared across the room. "That's a good girl," the short guy said amidst his laughs. "Already on her knees. Who'd have thunk it, huh? The rigid TA being such a willing slut."

He unzipped his pants and pulled out his turgid prick--at least, one of them could get a hard-on, maybe they weren't as drunk as I thought. I gulped at the sight of his girth; perhaps, it was my dazed state of mind but it looked thicker than a can of Coke. Involuntarily, I licked my lips as I gawked at him stroking his fat pole. I winced when he smacked me across the face with it and was taken aback by its weight. The tall guy whipped his prick out and, for a moment, I honestly expected to encounter a monstrosity straight out of some porn movie.

Instead, it was a below-average dick, in both length and girth. Perhaps, though, it appeared dwarfish when compared to the other guy's fat tool. I did hope the tall guy had seen his friend's prick before, otherwise, the size comparison might enkindle another drunken explosion of fury.

He grabbed my hair and yanked it hard enough to make me open my mouth to scream. His shaft was driven into my mouth and the purple mushroom head punched the back of my throat. His balls smacked against my chin as he rammed my mouth, and I started squirming, my body temperature rising fast.

Without needing to be prompted, I grabbed the short man's cock, unable to close my fist around it, and started stroking while bobbing my head on the tall one's dick. Perhaps, I was doing my best to get them to come fast so the ordeal would be over before it even started.

At the same time, the heat ravishing my body, causing me to sweat, and the wetness of my southern regions indicated I was enjoying this more than I thought I would, or than I ought to. As I raised my gaze, I met their eyes that radiated both surprise and elation.

The short man grabbed my hair and pulled me, rather forcefully, away from his friend's member, instantly stuffing his prick in my mouth. His girth forced my lips to open wide open, to the point it became almost as painful, at first, as a visit to the dentist.

Immediately, I started jerking the tall guy off while using my other hand to massage the short guy's balls as he kept thrusting his dick down my throat. I was gagging, his girth expanding the inner walls of my throat, and I didn't care. Tears welled down my eyes, blurring my vision out, and the grunts of the two men rang in my ears.

I squeezed his balls, perhaps in an attempt to drain him fast. He responded by pushing the back of my head against the wall and drilling my throat even harder, making me feel his girth as it stretched both my lips and my throat.

"Damn it, man," the tall guy cackled, "I can see the bulge in her throat. She can take it like a damn pro. That's how you got to be a TA? Sucking off all the professors?"

"No doubt, man," the short man added with a chuckle, as he kept his dick lodged down my throat. "She's all tits and no brains, that's for sure. She probably got the implants when she realized she wouldn't accomplish anything without a big pair to help catapult her forth. Ain't that right?"

I was writhing and slapping his thighs and buttocks, desperate to draw a bigger breath than some wheezing half-ass attempt through the nose.

"You're choking her out, you idiot," the tall guy chided his friend, albeit with a chortle.

"Ups, my bad," he said and pulled his cock out of my mouth.

Immediately, I doubled down, coughing and gasping in desperate efforts to catch my breath. They both started slapping their cocks on my head and face; the short guy's cockslaps were more impactful, making me wonder if I'd be able to take him inside of me.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" The tall guy said to his friend as he rubbed his dick all over my face, most likely making a mess of my makeup. "She's been giving us hell all semester, treating us like imbeciles...and here she is, moaning while she's getting cockslapped like a worthless whore. On your feet, bitch, come on," he suddenly snapped and pulled me up by the hair.

When I shrilled, the short guy pressed his hand against my mouth. "We told you not to make any sounds, didn't we? You dumb fucking cow," he spat on my face and I winced and turned my face away from him.

They were most likely assholes to begin with, and the booze they had consumed made them volatile and unpredictable. There wasn't much I could do, and that was potentially what had driven me mad with lust.

Another scream escaped my mouth when the tall guy twirled me around and pressed the side of my face, and my breasts, against the cold tiled wall. His fingers connected with my slit and I arched my back under the jolt of electricity that traversed my spine.

"She's already wet, man," he remarked. "Damn, she's an eager, horny slut."

I bit my lips down as the tall guy rubbed the head of his cock against my burning with desire pussy. He guided his member inside me, then instantly placed his palm on the side of my head, pressing me tighter against the wall.

"You love this, don't you, Maria?" The short guy said as he grabbed my hand and guided it back around his cock. It was hard concentrating on stroking him while his friend railed me hard, making my tits, and erect nipples, rub against the tiles.

"She's not very tight, either," the tall guy remarked amidst his grunts. "Guess she did fuck her way into academia. But, damn it, I could fuck this cunt for hours."

Considering their inebriation, I actually believed the statement. They did get hard, so at least I avoided being their target of frustration over any faults in their plumbing system, but they were most likely drunk enough not to be able to ejaculate, at least as easily as if they'd been stone-cold sober.

The thought of having to spend several hours in the restroom with them terrified me, even though, at the same time, I found the thought fucking exhilarating. His balls smacked against my soaked cunt and the sound resounded in the narrow walls, turning almost deafening. My face and tits were getting cold from the constant touch with the tiles, but my lower body was on fire.

The tall guy pulled out of me and dragged my face away from the wall by the hair; he made me bend over and I wrapped my lips around his drenched in my juices cock. I spread my legs when the short guy stood behind me. As he rubbed his prick against my asscrack, I once more felt his girth and weight, questioning my ability actually to take him.

I craved to know. Fortunately, he quickly obliged my unspoken desire and pressed his cockhead against my outer lips. I almost choked on the tall man's cock as his friend forced my cunt to bloom, stretching me out wide open just with the head of his tool.

Once the head was wedged in, he put his hands around my waist, his fingers digging hard into my skin and musculature, and with heavy grunts began thrusting, gradually burying more of his fat dong inside me. My inner muscles stretched and my stomach began contracting.

The tall man's cock muffled my screams and cries, turning them into low growls. He put both his hands on my head, holding me still as he swung his hips. His balls swayed and slapped my chin. The short guy kept his member buried inside me as I rolled my lower body while feeling his girth against my inner muscles.