The Gauntlet

Both of the young men were now stroking their increasingly stiff organs. One was rapidly nearing hardness, while Two stroked with purpose, playing catch-up.

"Oooh, I do like that," cooed Emma, glancing at One's thickly-veined shaft. "Buuuut, that wouldn't be fair. Have to see what your friend is packing, too."

"Fawk," groaned One. "I told you... unh. I told you I'm bigger."

Emma did her best to pit the two men against each other. She was wearing a sports bra underneath a thin top. Eyeing the two men carefully, she tugged the top off, revealing her tight swimmer's body. Both men seemed to accelerate their strokes. Finally, she grabbed the hem of her bra. She paused. To take it off seemed to acknowledge the direction the entire evening would take. On the other hand, the marshal had made it clear, the Gauntlet was at least in part about sex. If she was to continue, her modesty would be the least of the casualties.

She tugged it off, her buoyant breasts bouncing in the evening air.

"Nice," said Two. He drank in the sight of her body while stroking his cock to peak hardness. "I'm going to pop, shit!"

It was time. She had teased the boys as far along as she could. To delay now would be to lose progress. She knelt. Squeezing her eyes shut, Emma reminded herself that Kassandra had done this. The race marshals had all done this.

Without bothering to see whose, Emma put a penis into her mouth. The smooth organ slid in comfortably as she explored her ability to handle it. There was a faint whiff of soap. With no time to waste, she pulled back and circled the head with her tongue. Someone grunted in pleasure.

From there things moved quickly. Whichever of the two she had chosen was no larger than her senior-year boyfriend Zach. The two had dated only a couple of months before the twin demands of swimming and maintaining her GPA had tugged them apart. Regardless, Emma was happy to have had at least somewhat recent experience. Using the same technique she had used on Zach, Emma kept up the firmest pressure she could with her lips while taking almost all of the cock into her mouth. She tried not to think about why.

"Unnh," the young man groaned. He rested a hand on her shoulder. "Fuck yeah."

"Goddammit!," complained the other guy. "Gimme some of that!"

But she wouldn't switch. Her competitive instincts were kicking in. To switch would draw out the process for both guys. The best strategy would be to finish the first guy as quickly as possible before getting to work on the second. Just for the briefest moment she tore her mouth off of its target.

"You better be ready when I'm through!" She hoped the message would keep things in motion for the unlucky guy who had to wait. She popped her mouth back as the second guy muttered again.

It was working. The cock in her mouth couldn't have been harder, and it jerked as she worked it hard. It jerked again.

"Unnnh," he gasped. "Oh, oooooh." The young man's hand crept up to the back of her head. Emma let him, and in a moment he was as much fucking her mouth as she was sucking him. Surely that would speed things up.

It did. The man's hips bucked once, pumping her mouth hard. He groaned, pumping her again. "Oh, oh fuck," he gasped. "I... nnnnnnnahhhhhhhhhh!"

Emma's mouth filled with cum. She drew back, gagging, but the hand holding her in place was too tight to wriggle free.

"Ohhhhhhhh, fuuuuuuuuuuuck," her eager partner groaned. Another shot of seed raced past her lips as cum dripped from her mouth. He was shuddering and bucking. "Hoooh, yeah."

Overwhelmed, Emma was finally able to pull free. Wildly, she looked around, noticing the still chisel-hard cock swinging just inches from her face and dripping cum. She needed to find the other one quickly.

She needn't have worried. The owner of the second penis pushed it toward her face. Just as she had hoped, the young man had kept himself hard for her. Emma could see that he had remarkably ripped abs and almost no body fat. Lines of muscle pointed toward his straining cock as if saying it's right here! She didn't hesitate.

Strings of cum still connected her chin to her chest and neck as Emma popped her mouth over the tip. First the spongy head slid past her lips, then enough of the smooth shaft to show promise. She was sure she could get him off.

Who were they, Emma wondered? Half of her attention was given to the cock nestled in her mouth, half to idle thoughts. Were they boys from a nearby school? Her mouth slipped down the shaft again. The sons of faculty? She circled the head with her tongue, earning a grunt of appreciation. Did the same guys show up every year, marking the event on their calendars months in advance? She pushed as deep as she could and held him firmly, the twitching organ hers to explore and please. Suddenly the thought occurred to Emma that perhaps the guys had known who they would be matched with. Had they sorted through stacks of photos to find the girl they wanted to suck them off? The thought was both creepy and arousing. Almost involuntarily she pushed forward yet again, taking him deeper than before.

"Fuck!" the boy groaned. "You're so fucking good at that."

He must be close. Emma had been cautioned not to use her hands, but she interpreted that as meaning she couldn't touch their penis or balls. Instead, she gripped the back of his thighs and pulled herself forward onto him then back. Picking up speed she pumped his cock, not taking him so deep she gagged, but giving her mouth to him completely. In return, he met her with his own thrusts. Only Emma's careful, firm pressure on his cock kept him from going too far.

"Yeah, suck my dick! Your mouth is fucking amazing."

Zach had been equally appreciative, gently running his hands through the dark tangle of Emma's hair as she sucked him. With him she would have taken her time, making sure to meet his eyes. Licks, teases, and strokes would have kept his attention in between taking him deeply and swiftly. When he came, she would have played with his cum, letting him savor the moment.

There was no time for tenderness here. Emma only cared about getting the stranger off as quickly as she could. Her mouth was a blur, working the head and shaft while her hands drew him close. He moaned, low and steady.

"Unnnnnh," he groaned. "Oh fuck."

His cock jerked in her mouth. The young man couldn't have been any harder. Down and up she worked him.

"Oh," he gasped. "Oh god, fuck!"

A torrent of hot seed raced into her mouth, the second in no more than three minutes. The stranger's thighs were trembling. Emma pulled back, causing the second spurt to spill both onto her tongue and lips. Cum ran down her neck and dripped on her breasts. She took his rod deep again, as deep as she could. For a moment she savored what she was sure was a victory. She welcomed his still hard cock in her mouth, mercifully allowing the stranger to finish. The last drops of cum swirled in her mouth.

Finally, and with just the slightest touch of regret, Emma pulled back. She would have liked to hold the young man in her mouth just a touch longer, playing with his cum, licking his balls, or kissing his belly. Men after they had just climaxed were almost completely different creatures. Unfortunately, there was no time for it. In fact, seconds probably counted. Emma staggered to her feet and tried to get her bearings. The marshal caught her eye.

"There," she said, pointing to one of the exits from the little clearing. Behind her, the young men Emma had just pleasured were laying on their backs on the soft grass. Both were clearly depleted, their breath coming deeply but relaxed. One had his arm thrown over his face. And was it her imagination, or did the marshal offer an admiring smile? With a spring in her step, Emma jogged off to her next challenge.

***

Evening was turning into night. The trail, which might have been a jog during daylight, could now be navigated at no more than walking speed. Roots threatened to trip her, and at times the way was so narrow that Emma worried she had lost it altogether. Branches brushed or scratched at her like curious hands, adding to the unmistakably sinister feel. With relief she finally emerged into the next clearing.

The lake spread out before her, just on the far side of the little clearing. This portion was long, like one finger extending from a fist. Not unlike the trails, the lake during the day would have been placid and inviting. As it was, the waters were black. She could just glimpse the far side.

To her surprise, only a single marshal awaited her. No young men or fellow competitors could be seen. Emma approached. Blushing suddenly, she realized that she had neglected to find her bra or top after the last test.

The marshal, a slim brunette smiled curiously, her eyes flickering briefly to her clipboard, Emma's bare breasts, and finally to Emma herself. "Emma, good evening."

Emma began to cover herself before abandoning the idea. She had to focus on whatever test was at hand. Would she be quizzed again?

"It's just over two hundred meters," said the marshal, pointing across the water. "You'll be judged against your best time."

Emma followed the marshal's gesture. The was in fact a light at the far side, barely visible. Dimly, she realized she was being asked to swim the distance.

"Here," the marshal said, and led Emma to the water's edge. A few sad little waves lapped against the bank. "It's soft here," the girl explained, "and on the far side. Your shoes will be waiting for you there." She held out her hand.

Obediently, Emma tugged off her running shoes and handed them to the marshal. Soft, wet grass greeted her feet as they sunk slightly into the soil. Swimming topless would be a novelty, but her calf-length tights would make a passable swimsuit. She dabbed her toes into the dark water. It was going to be cold.

"Starting in three, two, one..." The marshal started a timer.

Startled, Emma practically threw herself into the water, the cold shooting into her. After a few steps it was waist deep. She dove in.

From the very first strokes Emma struggled to find her rhythm. The water seemed to fight against her. Not only was she used to swimming with goggles, the black water defied visibility entirely. Without lane dividers she had no way to know if she was swimming true, forcing her to frequently raise her head higher than she would have liked. Even that was a challenge. Water ran into her eyes, disorienting her and obscuring her vision. The light that she had seen from the shore was almost impossible to spot. More than once she had to stop almost completely to scan the far shore. It was a nightmare. She must be making progress, but at a fraction of the speed she'd make in a pool. Her coach would be screaming at her.

No, wait, she thought. Mrs. Koch had coached her through panic before. She wouldn't be screaming, she'd be telling Emma to concentrate, to block out all but what was necessary to keep going. There was a particularly tall tree on the far side of the lake which aligned with the light. She could make it out even with water in her eyes. Emma took more strokes, gradually lifting her head less frequently. Her competitive instincts took over. The butterfly was her favorite stroke. She might not be going as fast as she would in a pool, but she'd be faster than the other girls. She'd win. Emma surged ahead.

Still, the going wasn't easy. The cold water sapped her energy. By the time Emma reached the far bank she was panting with exertion, more drained than expected for a two hundred meter swim. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she staggered out of the water.

Two people waited for her. First was the expected marshal, complete with clipboard. As Emma approached she finished writing something down. "Good," she said. "Not an Olympic pace, but not bad for the Gauntlet."

Behind her, but in full view, the second occupant of the clearing lay on his back on a small bed. Like the two young men at the previous challenge he wore an eye-mask, partially obscuring his identity. Like the other men he was naked and hard.

"Seven minutes," the marshal said. "Mount and finish him in exactly seven minutes. Finish him too soon or take too long and your overall time will be penalized.

Emma stopped cold. Her earlier test had certainly been intimate. Sucking off two men had taken her to the edge of what seemed tolerable. To perform the ultimate act of intimacy with this stranger tested her limits yet again. She had only given Zach her pussy after dating for a month, and even then had been wracked with guilt afterward. Could she give herself to a stranger?

Although it was difficult to tell through the mask, the man appeared to be several years older than the other two. Still, he was in excellent shape, with toned legs, a flat midsection, and a lightly muscled but lean chest. Grinning as he took in the sight of Emma's half-naked body, the stranger slowly stroked his cock. He was ready for her.

Emma closed her eyes tightly, taking in several deep breaths. There was a way. During her previous campus visit she had noticed several men she understood to be younger professors or visiting research assistants. One in particular had been to Emma's liking, around age thirty, with slightly disheveled blond hair, blue eyes, and a sly twist to his smile. That evening, Emma, alone in the dorm where they housed visiting prospects, had fantasized about what it would be like to sleep with an older man. Fingering herself, the would-be Broyce girl imagined him slipping wordlessly into her room. With expert hands he would undress her, seduce her, and take her.

She would pretend this was the same man.

Her hesitation melting, Emma wriggled out of her still-damp tights. In the clearing, even the soft evening breeze carried a chill from the lake. For the first time that evening Emma realized that if she didn't keep moving the chill would creep into her. She straddled the stranger.

"Seven minutes," the marshal said. "I'll count down on the minute."

Taking the man's swollen cock, Emma guided it to her pussy. She realized with relief that she was already wet, and not from her swim. The tip probed her, encountering a touch of resistance. She pushed gently against it, wriggling to coat it with her slickness. Again, she pushed against the head.

"Mmm," said the stranger. He had let his hand drop, giving Emma full control over their encounter.

The resistance was slow to fade. It had been more than six months since she'd had sex. Perhaps just as importantly, she was still nervous. Her vagina was sure to be snug, and the cock she was trying to mount wasn't exactly small. Still, the tip parted her lips a touch more on her next push and the one after that. The head was coated with slickness now, providing increasing welcome to the eager shaft. She lowered herself onto him, testing her ability to take more.

"Yeah baby," the stranger moaned. His eyes had slid shut.

"Six minutes," called the marshal.

Emma half knelt over her partner, supporting herself with a hand on his flat stomach. Whereas Zach had been smooth, the stranger had a light but even layer of hair on his chest and stomach. Emma took a moment to run her fingers across him with her free hand. It was nice, she thought. She repeated the motion, earning a groan.

Almost without realizing it, Emma had nearly enveloped the man's organ. She withdrew before slowly easing herself back onto him. The bulging head parted her lips, opening the way for the shaft. The scene was starting to turn her on. The sight of her pussy lips spreading to accept the straining shaft was arousing, as was her taut body perched above him. It was like a scene from a porn video. She was slick and ready.

"Five minutes."

Gradually, Emma worked herself into a steady rhythm. Once she had nestled his cock into her pussy, the young woman rocked forward. Supported now on her hands she could gyrate on him readily. She wriggled down his cock until she had taken it all.

"Oh, fuck," the stranger moaned.

Pleasure and self confidence surged through Emma. She was doing it, taking control. "Feels good?"

"Ah, yeah. Your pussy."

"Mmmm," Emma answered. She slid her body forward. She slid it back. "You have... unh, five minutes to enjoy it."

This got the stranger's attention. He opened his eyes, drinking in the sight of her lean body once again. He grinned. "Not sure I can last that long, baby."

'Oh?" A flash of worry shot through her. Should she slow down, or was he messing with her?

"Yeah, fuck you're tight." He turned his head to the side again, lips slightly parted.

Reluctantly, Emma changed her strokes. Instead of taking him deep on every thrust, she raised herself, taking only the tip.

"Four minutes."

How close was he, Emma wondered? Working just the tip and front of the man's cock was tiring. She had to raise herself above him, perching herself there on the strength of her legs.

"Ah, you tease," the man gasped. "Fawk, gimme that pussy!"

Against her better judgment Emma pushed deep, rewarding him with a journey into her slickness. She pumped two more times before pulling back. The little bed creaked.

"Unh yeah," he groaned.

Again, Emma had to ride just the tip. Her legs trembling, the swimmer hovered over her partner, taking enough of the cock to keep him going, but not so much that he might cum. Or her. Emma's attention had been given to her partner, but her own arousal mounted as well. The evening chill had faded, replaced by an internal warmth that threatened to swallow her. Instinct told her to hold off, but increasingly her body sought release.

"Go deep again, please," the stranger said. "If I only get a few minutes I want all that sweet thing."

"Yeah, but -"

"Three minutes," the marshal called out, interrupting her.

"- I need this to last," finished Emma. She teased him, pushing her lips over the head but no farther.

"Three minutes," he said. The man's eyes were open and focused on her again. "I'm not eighteen. Got more control than that, c'mon!"

The claim hit home, reminding Emma of her earlier fantasy. By now she knew this wasn't the same man she had remembered from her visit. On the other hand, she had already given herself to him. His chisel of a cock was slick with her juices. This was her first time with an older guy; she should make it memorable for both of them.

Emma drove her pussy down.

"Ah, fuuuuuck," he groaned.

Legs trembling, Emma somehow found the strength to continue her ride. She withdrew her pussy, twisted against the tip for a minute then eased herself down again. Cock filled her, sending out sparks of pleasure. More slowly this time, she withdrew herself, feeling each vein slide free of her slick hole. Not hesitating, she wriggled down the full length again, giving her insides to him.

The stranger's arousal swelled. His breath was audible, his mouth agape, and his eyes closed in bliss. His hips trembled.

"Oooh," Emma moaned. "Yeah that dick."

"Fuck," the stranger gasped back. "Use my dick, ride it."

"Two minutes," the marshal said.

The warning barely registered with Emma. Use my dick, he had said. She was using it, taking it as deep as she wished, or pulling nearly off. Her partner lay passively beneath her, his sole responsibility to provide the cock. Otherwise, she was in full control. She reveled in it, wishing she could ride him forever. Her breasts bounced.

Her legs gave out first. The jog through the forest, kneeling to pleasure the two young men, the challenging swim, and now riding the stranger's cock had all taken their toll. When she could take no more, Emma collapsed, her legs trembling. She struggled to catch her breath.

"Hey, you aren't giving up, are you?" the stranger asked. He laughed.