A short
Little Emily Dreams
story
College Blowbang Competition
by Emily Miller
— — —
"Those aren't tits, they're zits!"
"Fuck you, Melanie Robinson! At least I'm not a fat cow like you!"
"Well, we'll see," replies Melanie, cupping her substantial breasts, jiggling them in a taunting manner. "My guys are gonna stay rock hard, while yours are gonna droop."
"Unless," she continues, struck by another thought, "they look at
me
while they fuck
your
mouth. That's what I'd do if I was a guy."
I begin to get up off my knees, the bitch is gonna get slapped for that. But I feel a hand on my naked shoulder. "She's not worth it, angel. She's just shit talking, she has no game."
Hazel is right, she's generally right. She'd begged me not to do this stupid competition, and she was probably right about that too. But here we are, me and Melanie in her dorm room, both nude, both kneelIng on pillows, with a queue of guys outside the door. One that Hazel said stretched down the stairs to the first floor.
Olivia, Melanie's roommate - maybe her second I reflect with some irony - asks, "You ready to start?"
I nod that I am, and the first two guys are shown in. As they drop their pants, I think, 'Fuck, this is actually happening!'
— — —
I guess in some ways it was inevitable that Melanie and I would eventually have a showdown. We were both popular with the guys, and had no compunction about playing with them, individually or in groups. Melanie was a year older than me, and known as the sex party queen. Of course she was going to see a freshman slut encroaching on her territory as a threat. I'd heard she'd even started doing anal in response, something I didn't need anyone else to make me do; I loved it.
You'd think that the supply of horny college guys was close to limitless, but Melanie had accused me of diverting people from her parties to mine. So she'd issued her childish challenge: whoever blew the most guys got to be queen bee. The loser would have to stop their slut-o-ramas for the rest of the year.
I didn't have to accept, of course, but the bitch had gotten under my skin, and I wanted to take her down. So we'd put the word out, a blowbang to the death, all cocks welcome, and the winner takes all. From what Hazel told me, the response had been pretty impressive.
— — —
I don't know either of the initial pair. Contrary to Melanie's taunts, neither has any discernible erectile challenges. Her first is at least an inch longer than mine. I suppress my initial jealousy, figuring this is a marathon, not a sprint.
Mine almost looks shy as he stands in front of me. Do I detect a virgin? I think I do. He seems to have no clue about what happens next. Looking sideways, Melanie's guy has rather less reticence. He's taking control and fucking her face. Again I suppress my jealousy.
Instead, I grab my guy, and pull him toward me. At this point, my own desire is taking over. I grip his root with one hand, steering his head to my waiting mouth. With the other, I massage my pussy; it's already throbbing and dripping.
All it takes is thirty seconds and he's groaning as he squirts an impressive amount of cum into my mouth. Melanie and I had agreed that swallowing was optional, and a bowl sits next to each of us. But I like semen in my tummy and so gave myself a treat.
Melanie's guy has more stamina, and I see an opportunity to take an early lead. "Next," I say brightly.
Hazel makes a mark with a Sharpie on a large piece of paper we'd stuck to the wall, and opens the door for my number two.
Not to be outdone, Melanie pulls her guy out of her throat and starts to jerk him. I think, cattily, that her oral technique can't be the best as he succumbs to the hand job much more quickly, spraying her face and hair. The white streaks stand out against her dark brown locks. We'd also agreed that facials counted, and Olivia marks Melanie's side of the chart.
One all.
But I can't worry about my opponent, my next guy is here. Another stranger, and he's a big boy. I look up at him, still rubbing my clit. "Don't just stand there, I'm feeling thirsty."
I open my eyes wide, my mouth wider, and he doesn't need a second invitation. I feel a familiar excitement as his head hits the back of my mouth, and - as I gulp to accommodate him - slips into my eager throat.
— — —
I maybe have an unfair advantage in this competition. Most girls need to train themselves to suppress their gag reflex. I never really had much of a problem taking objects into my throat. I actually love the sensation.
As number two roughly face fucks me, I enjoy how he feels deep inside, and bring myself to my first orgasm. He clearly notices, and my muffled moans send him over the edge. There is no choice for me this time, as he deposits his load directly into my esophagus. Hazel makes another check mark, and I say, "Next."
Looking sideways, Melanie has had to resort to jerking her guy again. There is semen all over her ample breasts, with a large glob dripping from one nipple.
Two all.
Number three is the first familiar face. We're not really friends, but he's in my calc class, and has come to two of my parties. I recall, with a shiver, just how hard he made me cum while ass-fucking me. "Hi, Tyrone," I say, smiling.
"Hi, Emily," he replies. "Hi, Hazel."
I know Hazel has a thing for him, I hope she's not too jealous. It also occurs to me that Tyrone and I are a walking, talking trope; The skinny little blonde white girl, and the big muscular black guy. Tyrone's cock certainly matches up to the stereotype, his nerdy love of coding rather less so.
But I can't worry about tropes now as I take his bulbous head between my lips. I smile up at Tyrone - as much as you can with a mouth full of cock that is. He seems to get the message as I'm rewarded with his brilliant grin. Then I side-eye Hazel, with a similarly limited 'what ya gonna do?' look. I get an eye roll from her in return. I guess we're cool.
Tyrone is happy to be passive, for me to do the work, and it does feel nice sucking on him. Hazel whispers in my ear that she's going to check on the line. I assume she's less than keen to see me fellating her crush.
I reply, "Nnn grr nnn."
Melanie seems to have a hair-trigger guy, and I hear her saying, "Next."