The Gangbang Club Pt. 01

The Gangbang Club (Part 1)

Kathryn M. Burke

1

I throw terrible parties.

I'm Mabel (I'll withhold my last name, if you don't mind). I know, it's a dopey name; but my old-fashioned parents saddled it on me, and I guess I don't mind all that much. I'm twenty-one years old and I've just started my senior year at a tiny liberal arts college in Illinois. I'm certainly looking forward to give up studying and getting out into the real world--although working at some tedious job doesn't strike me as lots of fun.

That's why I've been trying, ever since I came to this institution of higher learning, to perfect my technique at party-throwing. I haven't had much success. In fact, I seem to have gotten the reputation of giving just about the worst parties on campus. Why am I doing wrong? Okay, I don't serve alcohol: even though I generally avoid inviting dorky freshmen to my get-togethers, there are still a fair number of people here who aren't old enough to drink legally, so it's just soft drinks and "virgin" cocktails and stuff like that. Maybe that's not very good at getting people all loosy-goosy, but what can a girl do?

I thought that holding a party a week after the start of the new semester would be enticing to people, but it didn't turn out to be the case. My own roommate, Jill--we share a little off-campus apartment that's seen better days--ditched out on me. I invited as many as twenty guys and gals, and about fifteen showed up. But one by one they began to leave, until I was left with only seven guests. And it was only about 10 p.m.

Then I noticed that all seven of them were men.

I think one of them was a sophomore; the others were juniors and seniors, and I think there might even have been a graduate student in the mix. So they were between the ages of nineteen and twenty-four. A good mix, except that the gender difference--seven males and one female (yours truly)--wasn't good at all.

Let me say that I consider myself "cute" without being a raving beauty. I think my best features are my raven-black hair (natural, not dyed--I'm no Goth girl) and my oval face, which one guy actually said was "pre-Raphaelite." How nice of him! I won't say I have tits out to here, but my chest isn't small and my backside is pretty curvy. So I have the complete package, in my humble estimation, all wrapped up in a petite five-foot-four frame.

As I was gazing at the seven guys who were lounging here and there, I could tell that they had also glommed onto the fact that I was the only female in the place. They all looked me up and down; one of them even licked his lips. Hey, I'm used to that: that's just what guys do. If a girl can't take that kind of notice, she'd better go to a nunnery.

Things got strange when one of the guys went to use the bathroom and came back in--well, let's say in an interesting condition. Not only had he left his fly open, but his cock was sticking out of his unzipped pants.

The other guys noticed and quickly began howling and whooping with laughter. I stayed quiet, and when the guy (I think his name was Desmond) sat down right across from me on a sofa, I looked at him blankly and said, "Um, are you making some sort of statement here?"

Desmond shrugged. "My thing needs air. It doesn't like being confined."

"That's obvious," I said evenly.

"In fact," he went on, standing up, "I think my whole body needs some air."

And with that, he proceeded to strip down to his birthday suit. It didn't take much effort, because it was kind of a warm day (and evening) in September, and he'd only come dressed in a T-shirt and shorts.

I won't deny that the guy looked good. He was pretty muscular all over, and had a open, honest face topped by an untidy mass of blond hair. But it was his dick--growing by the second as I found myself unable to tear my eyes away from it--that commanded most of the attention, even from the other guys.

"Hey, that's a pretty impressive implement!" a guy named Grant said.

"Oh, it's not that big," Desmond said humbly.

Who was he kidding? It had reached a length of about seven inches (by my informal estimate) and was continuing to get fat and hard.

"I think I can top that," another guy (Matt) said. And he began to undress.

Pretty soon, all the men were tossing their clothes aside. Within minutes, I was the only person in the place who was still dressed.

The array of male flesh that was exposed to my gaze was certainly diverse and compelling. All the guys were in pretty good shape, and there was an interesting mix of white, Black, Latino, and Asian men strutting their stuff around. No one can say I'm prejudiced!

All the cocks were expanding, although some of them were taking a longer time at it than others. It seemed that a few guys were a bit self-conscious at getting erect in front of men. Others, though, seemed to enjoy the prospect, and it was one Kevin--he was the Asian--who took this whole bizarre scenario into a new direction.

"Hey, Mabel," he said with a wide grin, "why don't you measure us?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Measure what, exactly?" Of course I knew what he was talking about, but I just wanted to hear him say it.

"Our cocks, of course!" he said, now starting to laugh. His member was thick but not all that long, so I wondered why he'd made his proposal: he'd probably come out (if I may say so) on the short end of the stick.

"That's a great idea!" DeShawn (a Black guy) cried. He was pretty well endowed, but I wasn't certain he'd win this impromptu contest.

"You actually want me to measure--those things?" I said, staring at each guy's groin one after the other.

"Sure!" Desmond said, confident that he'd come out ahead of the others. "And I mean, with a ruler. You got a ruler?"

"I'm sure I can find a ruler somewhere," I said wearily.

"Then you'd better run along and get it!"

"And what," I said slowly and precisely, "is the reward for the guy with the biggest, um, implement?"

"Why, you, of course!" Juan (the one Latino) said.

"Me?"

"Yeah. He gets to fuck you."

"Is that right?" I said. "And I have no say in this?"

"Sure, you do. Wouldn't you want to bed down with the guy with the biggest dick?"

I took in all seven naked guys in one broad glance. Let me say that I like sex. Why shouldn't I? But I'd fallen into a bit of a drought. In fact, I hadn't had a boyfriend for more than a year: the last one dumped me right at the end of sophomore year, so during my whole junior year my vagina was--well, empty. Okay, there was one crazy incident at a frat party a few months ago when I'd made out with a guy in an upstairs bedroom, but that was not entirely satisfying. He had a great time feeling me up, and I'd given his cock a few good tugs--but the only result of that was that he spattered my dress with come, and it took me a huge effort to get it out in the wash. I won't say it wasn't fun, but I really wanted my pussy filled. I mean, that silly cavity remains vacant for about 99% of a woman's life. How useless is that?

So I said, "Yeah, okay."

I heaved myself up off the easy chair I'd been sitting in and shuffled over to my desk, where I found a ruler in the bottom left-hand drawer. Fishing it out and waving it around like a wand, I said, "Okay, guys, are we ready?"

"No!" exclaimed a guy named David. "I--I'm not hard yet."

I could see he wasn't. There are some guys whose cocks are really tiny when they're soft, although they get to reasonably respectable proportions when erect. David's must have been like that.

And I think he was one of those guys who are embarrassed to expose themselves in front of men. It's like they're terrified of even the suggestion that they might be excited by the sight of some other man's cock. That's probably why he said:

"Say, Mabel, maybe you could take your top off? I think that would get us going."

The other guys nodded their heads enthusiastically. I could almost see them salivating at the prospect. The seventh guy, Frank, added: "You might as well take everything off. After all, you'll have to when the winner's declared."

I let out a huge sigh. "Oh, all right."

So I did my own little striptease, taking quite a bit longer at it than the guys had in doffing their own clothes. I had a tank top on, so I took that off, then my skirt. Now I was down to my bra and panties (I'd tossed aside my shoes long ago). I turned my back on the men, then reached behind me to unclasp my bra. Shimmying out of it, I then peeled off my panties. Only then did I turn around and let the guys gaze upon my naked charms.

More whoops and hollers followed, and sure enough, all those cocks got nice and hard. That made me feel good. It's always reassuring for a girl to know that she can get men to rise to the occasion.

But now the serious business of measuring had to be done. Those cocks were just as diverse as the men themselves: long and straight, long and curved, thick and somewhat short, and so on and so forth. I found it interesting that the cocks of the two genuine men of color--DeShawn and Juan--were darker than the rest of them.

The guys got into a wide circle around me, and I got down on my knees with the ruler clutched in my hand. I'm afraid that Frank was out of the running right away: his cock was barely six inches, although fairly thick. He trudged off into a corner of the room to lick his wounds. Matt and David were eliminated, although their cocks were just over seven inches. Juan and Kevin fell by the wayside at just under eight inches.

That left Desmond and DeShawn, as I'd predicted. It was really, really close; but in my judgment DeShawn was the winner, at eight and a quarter inches.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Desmond cried out.

"Sorry, guy," I said, "you lose. If your cock were straight and not bent, you might have won."

"It's not bent, it's curved!" he protested.

"Well, too bad. I say DeShawn is the king of cocks in this gathering."

Desmond took his defeat very badly, walking away muttering. But DeShawn was thrilled, and he looked me over as if I was a tempting little morsel that would melt in his mouth. And maybe I would!

I led him--by his cock--to my bedroom. We lay down on the bed, I on my back and he on his side next to me. But now a new development occurred.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, but all the other guys gathered around the bed. They were apparently intent on watching the proceedings.

"Hey, what's going on?" I said. "Who said you could be here?"

"You didn't say we couldn't," Kevin said.

I sighed again, but I wasn't all that displeased. True, it's not usual to have an audience in what is supposed to be the most intimate of unions between man and woman; but I can't say it didn't give me a kick. I wondered if those six other guys who'd lost the contest would gain some solace by stroking themselves as they watched DeShawn and me get it on.

But it turned out that something else was in the cards.

I was tickled by being pummeled by DeShawn. I'd never had a Black guy before, and the contrast between my very fair skin and his lovely chocolate complexion was mesmerizing. He was also a big guy, and I kind of like being possessed by someone who enfolds me in his arms and stuffs his cock as deep into me as possible. But he was also sweet and tender, and gave me plenty of kisses all over--including one kiss in my armpit which caught me by surprise. I was surprised he held out as long as he did (about ten or twelve minutes, I'd say). I mean, the excitement of fucking a girl you really don't know very well--he was actually the friend of a classmate of mine, but she'd bolted from the party long before--along with the fact that he was doing this in public must have been pretty stimulating.

When he did sent his load into me, I really felt it. Girls don't always feel a man's come going into them, but DeShawn's seemed to splash against the walls of my vagina the way a waterpik shoots water into your mouth. And there was a lot of it, believe me!

I thought the other guys, seeing the culmination of this unexpected live sex show right in front of their faces, would blow their wads too. But they held it in. Only later did I realize why.

When DeShawn was finished, he gave me a final little kiss on the mouth, said, "That was great, babe!" and crawled off of me and slid off the bed. I just lay there in a post-coital ecstasy: it suddenly occurred to me that I'd come too, although it's pretty rare for that to happen to me just from intercourse. But my legs were still twitching with my own orgasm, and I gazed benevolently at the guys all around the bed, thinking to myself: All's right with the world.

But Desmond, the runner-up, took matters into his own hands.

He'd actually gone away during the final moments of DeShawn's pounding of me. That surprised me, since I figured he'd want to see the climax (in every sense of the word) of the whole peculiar scenario. But when he came back, he was holding a tube of hand lotion in his hand.

All of a sudden he approached me, flipped me over onto my stomach, and began applying the stuff in a certain place. I allude to my anus.

"Hey!" I cried in protest. "What do you think you're doing?"

As he finished the job of lubricating me, he said nonchalantly, "I came in second, so I get to go next."

"Who said there'd be a next? That wasn't in the rules."

"It is now," he said with annoying smugness. Then he softened a bit. "Do you like it this way?"

At least he had the courtesy to ask. A lot of guys would have just forged right in. I should mention that "rear entry" is getting pretty popular on college campuses--at least among the guys. What the recipients of the procedure have to say about it is unknown.

"Yeah, it's okay," I said. "But it's been a while."

"It'll come back to you," he said with a confidence I didn't feel. "It's kind of like riding a bicycle."

Oh, is it? I thought to myself as he draped himself over my body, took his cock in his hand, and fished for the right aperture. He had a bit of difficulty finding it, since of course he couldn't see it; but finally it slipped in, almost before either of us were expecting it. Several inches of it went in pretty fast, making me gasp.

"Hey, watch it!" I said, frowning at him. "Go easy, okay?"

"Sorry, babe," he said with due humility. "Didn't mean to hurt you."

Well, he didn't actually hurt me--at least, I wasn't going to admit it to him. I do like it this way, although I have to be in good shape to really enjoy it. That is, I have to have it done to me fairly frequently before I can get used to it. There's kind of a technique to the thing if you're on the receiving end: you have to resist the natural tendency to tighten up your sphincter. Just relax and go boneless--that'll do the trick. But it takes a certain amount of practice. And a lot of women don't like the sense of passive helplessness that you end up feeling. But I don't really care about that.

I could tell that Desmond had done this before--but he still got a big kick out of it. It's a pretty tight fit, you know, and it's still considered naughty, so that provides its own stimulus. He pressed his whole frame down on me, wrapping his hands around my chest and grabbing my boobs while nuzzling my cheek and neck with lips and tongue. I think he stuck his tongue into my ear, which gave me a bit of a jolt. Otherwise, I just lapsed into a dream state. I hadn't expected my vagina to be invaded tonight, and I certainly wasn't counting on my ass being stuffed by a fairly substantial cock. I didn't know Desmond very well either, but you really do feel close to the guy who's plugging up your butt--you can't help it.

He shot his load into me quicker than DeShawn did, and got some thunderous applause from the assembled guests, several of whom had never done this to a girl (or never been allowed to do it) and were suitably envious. When he pulled out, I got a feeling that this whole business wasn't over--in fact, that it was just beginning.

Sure enough, Frank and Kevin both climbed onto the bed. They were getting impatient at the idea of having me one at a time (and I already began to sense that each of these guys would do me sooner or later), so they decided to engage in that age-old practice of the oversexed male: double penetration.

I'd never done this before, and I won't deny that I was curious how it would play out. They had me lie on my side, and Kevin got in front of me. His cock went into my pussy. Frank--he of the six-inch cock--lay down spoon-fashion behind me and shoved his cock into my ass. In spite of its relative shortness, it was quite thick, so it filled up my derrière very nicely. They got down to some pretty vigorous thrusting right away, and I vaguely wondered if they could feel the come that was already oozing out of both of those nether orifices, where their predecessors had left their telltale deposits.

I won't say they came exactly in sync, although I think Frank's emission somehow triggered Kevin's. Anyway, they let loose with a fairly substantial discharge. Meanwhile, the other guys were encouraging them with ribald comments and even some affectionate slaps on their butts.

There were three guys left who hadn't poked me yet. As they looked at each other (they were Matt, Juan, and David), they all nodded as if they had carefully planned some secret spy operation and were now determined to put it into action.

In other words, I was now going to be subjected to triple penetration.

You might think that the copulation with Frank and Kevin would have prepared me for this onslaught, but it's really quite different. Matt lay on his back and I got on top of him, face down. Once he shoved his cock into my pussy, David positioned himself behind us and plowed into my butt. Then Juan got in front of me, delicately lifted my head up with both hands, and, as I obediently opened my mouth, plunged his cock into it.

I have to tell you--if there are any girls out there reading this--that having three cocks in you takes a lot of... concentration. It might seem that all you have to do is lie there and take their pummeling, but it's not as simple as that. Sucking a guy's cock takes quite a bit of focus; meanwhile, the two guys' dicks in your lower regions are creating a most distracting ruckus, especially if their rhythm is a bit off.

It was pretty clear what these guys were aiming for: a triple simultaneous climax. But in order for that to happen, I had to take special care to get Juan suitably stimulated, since oral sex isn't quite as thrilling (for most guys) as vaginal or anal sex. So I made sure to give Juan a good time, not only licking his cock all over with my tongue but also grabbing his butt with both hands and giving it some good squeezes. The two guys who'd stuffed me down below could take care of themselves.

The end result, I'm proud to say, was not just a triple but a quadruple simultaneous climax. Yes, folks, I came too--no thanks to the three guys who were exclusively focused on their own pleasure. But I didn't criticize them for that. And even though my orgasm was an incidental by-product of their diligence, we were all delighted by the effect. Everyone let out bellows or screams or (in my case) squeals of ecstasy, exchanging bodily fluids as if they were going out of style.

And that's how this good old-fashioned gangbang began.

Yes, folks, this was just the beginning. You see, these guys weren't satisfied with just one round with me. Men of that age are capable of getting rejuvenated in a hurry, especially when there's a tempting female (that would be yours truly) to accommodate them. So over the next two hours I got poked and prodded by one, two, or three of these seven lusty males over and over again. We did it in all sorts of ways, some of them more acrobatic than others. Almost as soon as one guy finished in one hole, some other guy took his place. I lost track of who went in where, but I did keep a pretty good count of the total number of invasions of my body and came up with a total of twenty-two.