Tara Goes Down the Rabbit Hole

She wavered just outside the partly open door — a wooden folding chair was wedged between it and its jamb. The door was stenciled "UCLA Bruins Men's Basketball" in the team's colors, pale blue and gold. Above and beyond her the music thumped. She had told Angela she detested the Black Eyed Peas, but Angie had begged her to go.

"Please, please, please, it'll be fun."

"You want me to go just because I have a car."

"Nooo, that's so not true. We can totally meet some guys."

"You know, you're way too old for that shit. The Black Eyed Peas, they're like for thirteen-year-olds."

"Next year, cuz, when I'm nineteen like you, I'll be all cool and shit, just like you. But please, can we just go? I'll totally owe you."

She had admired the performance. Angie was good. Plus she was leaning forward, grinning devilishly, and wagging those great tits at her.

So that's how she found herself at Pauley Pavilion, wearing a short-short black skirt, a purple rayon top and chunky semi-high heels. Her long nearly black hair framed her face in a way that suggested an Asian Veronica Lake. She wondered why a concert was being held here. She knew it to be a basketball venue. After a couple of songs Fergie stepped into a spotlight and spoke for a while about women owning their bodies, about rape being uncool. In a rambling sort of way she made her point.

Then she understood. The Peas were doing a benefit to support the rape crisis center on campus. She had heard about a few incidents. She shivered then laughed to herself. She thought, I hate rape, who doesn't? But half the fucking porn on my computer is gangbangs. What's up with that?

Lecture finished, Fergie launched into one of her featured numbers. Watching her writhe and shake her booty, she thought it was odd that one moment Fergie was haranguing the crowd about the evils of rape and the next her body was signing, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me."

But it didn't matter. She was pleasantly tipsy. From the moment she and Angie sat down the cute but too young boys next to them had passed them a large flask filled with God-knows-what liquor. It was like liquid fire going down, and it had its intended effect. After four swallows the music was sounding pretty good, and she felt an urge to get on stage and dance with Fergie. She felt an even stronger urge when the song stopped. God, I gotta pee, she thought.

Fulfilling that urge had led her down steps and ramps into Pauley's bowels and to, surprisingly, an unoccupied ladies' room, and, from there, to the present moment, outside the locker room. She hadn't thought to memorize her route here, didn't know if she could find her way back, and felt strangely impelled to keep moving forward. So she crossed the threshold.

The room was blinding white, light, walls and tile floor, relieved only by gray lockers and narrow benches. The air was liquid with humidity, and her nostrils were suffused with a smell she could only characterize as male. Showers were running, and she crept toward the sound.

She turned a corner, and there in front of her was a dark-mahogany, perfectly chiseled giant young man rinsing himself under a showerhead. Shit, she thought, he must be seven feet tall! He turned at that moment and faced her, but his eyes were closed as he shed shampoo from his short-cropped hair.

She took this moment to study his dick, which pointed at the shower floor. Flaccid though it was, she knew it would be enormous when erect. She was entranced.

Just then she heard him exclaim, "What the fuck!" and their eyes met. She almost laughed: his eyes had widened so much he looked scared. But she knew that wasn't true. He turned his head to the right. "Yo, Marcus, get over here, man. You gotta check this out." She looked at his dick again. It was pointed straight at her now. She heard a muffled "What up?" from a part of the shower room she couldn't see.

In a moment the first giant was joined by a second — an identical twin! The sight of these two huge black men left her weak in the knees, and she sank down on the nearest bench. She stared at them, and they stared back. The only sound was that of running water. It was weird: In her head she was already watching the tape of what hadn't happened yet. She was more excited, wetter, more alive than she'd ever been.

The second brother, dick also defying gravity, spoke up. "Michael, go lock the door."

Michael grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist as he walked to the door. He pulled the chair that held the door open into the room and stuck his head out, glancing to the right then left. He drew back into the room, closed the door and swept the bolt a half turn to the right. He walked back toward her and let his towel drop to the floor.

She reacted by assuming the position: all fours on the bench with her backside proffered to him. He worked her skirt up to the small of her back, then simply ripped her panties off and threw them to the floor. He pressed the head of his huge cock against her inflamed pussy lips and said, "What's your name, baby?"

"Tara."

"Okay, Tara, let's do this." With that he slowly but implacably shoved his entire dick into her young pussy. She'd only been with one guy, a white guy, and his cock had been nothing like this. They both made noises in their throats when he was all the way in, then he said, "Damn, that shit is tight. Dude" — he addressed his brother — "you gotta get some of this shit. This Asian bitch ain't hardly been fucked." He slowly, repeatedly, stabbed her with his equine cock.

For her part, she had never felt like this before: incredibly but pleasantly full, as if she had eaten an entire Thanksgiving dinner but magically had room for more. She began to rock back to meet his thrusts.

The other brother, Marcus, grabbed a fistful of her silky hair. "Yo, man, I'm gonna fuck this bitch's mouth." And her mouth was filled with about half of his black meat. It was so warm. She sucked it eagerly and felt herself filled fore and aft. She listened excitedly as they spoke over her head, using the coarsest terms to describe her like she was a piece of meat. She neared orgasm as her face was slapped, her ass spanked, her orifices used.

Dimly she heard Fergie wailing as the brothers pulled out of her nearly simultaneously. One sprayed her face, and the other rained on her backside. They hadn't shown any interest in her pleasure, but a beautiful warmth began to radiate from her belly, and she began to vibrate uncontrollably. Open, now she was truly open.