Previously: After popping her anal cherry with a reckless hookup, Abigail finds that her friend Rachel has recorded the entire embarrassing episode. As Rachel's designs become clearer, Abi falls deeper into lust ...
"Take that shirt off," Rachel commanded, and Abi didn't even think about refusing. She hung her jacket on the bedpost and peeled off the stolen top, feeling kind of like a sausage as the poor stretched fabric crawled up her curvaceous body.
Rachel snatched it from her hands and then threw it at the trash can by Abi's desk. "You've stretched it all out, you stupid cow."
Why is she being so mean to me?
Abi wanted to shrink into herself, standing before Rachel in just a bra.
Her friend looked her up and down, dragging her eyes over her in a way that made Abi's skin crawl. Rachel looked hungry, with a glint in her eyes that spoke of a madness positively Shakespearean.
"I guess I can't be too mad at you ..." Rachel began.
Right, you can't! I'm not feeling like myself right now, I don't know what's happening to me and -
"Because you need to dress like that to get any attention from guys, don't you? Not like they'd care otherwise. Honestly Abigail, what kind of girl lets a guy put it in her butt like that? I would never."
Abi finally spoke up. "You're right Rache, I'm a ... I'm a slut!" Tears welled in her eyes.
Rachel smiled, as if they'd come to an agreement. "Yes. A butt slut. Say it, Abs."
Abi looked down and mumbled, "I'm a butt slut."
"Say it like you mean it."
Abi took a deep breath. "I'm a butt slut," she said, once more with feeling.
"Right you are," and Abi saw now that Rachel had been recording this too, as one more little dig. She put her phone away now with girlish glee.
"Anyways I'm late from waiting for you to finish getting butt fucked.
I
have things to do and I can't just spend the whole night on my back."
Abi noticed now that Rachel
was
dressed up pretty cute, like she was going somewhere. How could her friend show so much skin and have it not come off as whorish?
Rachel left, moving light on her feet, and Abi felt reprieved despite her stinging words. She was alone in their dorm.
* * *
She could still salvage something of the night. Abi shucked her ruined panties onto the floor and stepped over them like they were roadkill. She wriggled off her skirt and whipped off her bra.
The necklace was still stuck. Abi tussled with the clasp, feeling impotent, unable to see behind her. She shimmied the clasp around to her front and couldn't see anything wrong with it. It just wouldn't open. The necklace looked too old and valuable to damage trying to break it open, so Abi resigned herself to wearing an admittedly stylish piece for the indeterminate future.
It did look good on her, she realized looking in the mirror. She stood up straight, feeling a little stronger, putting her shoulders back and letting the beautiful piece rest on her bust. So what if she was a little "Rubenesque" she thought, putting her hands on her hips. She'd made poor old Stephen blow his load, anyways.
A shower would help. She grabbed a towel and flashed herself a few times in the mirror, feeling playful.
Tada! Va va voom!
In the shower, she tended to her poor little butthole, cleaning and gently probing. It seemed like her hole was none the worse for wear. Her ministrations to herself caused that warmth to blossom in her cunt again ...
Abi couldn't help it. She frigged herself off so hard she thought she was going to scream, and when she came her knees buckled and she almost fell to the floor gasping in silent agony. She lay back braced against the shower wall for unknown minutes as the water rained down on her, her hand over her cunt, reeling from the waves of pleasure that had overwhelmed her just now.
She walked back to her room feeling light as a feather. She still had to write the paper for her "group" project, but she could knock that out easily before bed.
Abi sat down ready to write. She opened a new document, but then ... her eyes couldn't focus on the screen. She tried to draw out any of Page's class but it was like her brain was filled with static. The brief clarity she'd felt after cumming was now lost. She zoned out, eyes unfocused, and one hand slipped down to her crotch. She needed that clarity again.
She started rubbing herself.
Abi hadn't typed a single line before exhaustion overtook her and she fell asleep in front of her desk, fingers groping at her pussy.
* * *
Something was off. She wasn't herself: her body felt just a little different. She was in the kitchen, tottering around on high heels, her tits practically leaping out of her low cut dress. She was arranging a serving tray of drinks.
She observed things with the detachment of a dream, and then she realized yes, she was dreaming. She had on garters but no underwear, and she felt the front of her dress dragging against her soft bush.
She carried the tray out and she was in the living room -
she was in the living room.
Some strange men were sitting around the couch and chairs, dressed in suits. An after-work party.
They stopped their conversations and smiled when she came in. Everyone remained seated as she passed out drinks, forcing her to bend at the waist and shove her tits in their faces.
She placed the empty tray on the coffee table and stood waiting, for what she didn't know. The men politely sipped their drinks, clearly also waiting for something. Finally, someone came down the stairs.
"There he is!" "Here's trouble!" The men were throwing out backslapping patter.
"Thanks for waiting everyone, and thank you to our lovely hostess as well." This caught her attention like a fish on a line and she started, as all eyes returned to her.
"Oh well, yes. It's the least I could do, I mean," she said.
The new man laughed, "The queen of understatement, that's just another reason I love her. C'mon guys, let's let her do her thing." He sat down on the fireplace hearth and whipped out his dick, already rock hard.
Some of the men seemed unsure, but all it took was the next guy unzipping for all of them to get over it, get their cocks out, and start stroking. Before she knew what was happening she was in front of the first man, kneeling down and taking him in her mouth.
She worked out a bobbing rhythm for him and then groped a hand over his leg to the next gentleman, to stroke him as she sucked. The first man came, gripping the couch arm hard and clenching his teeth.
She bobbed a few more times until she was sure he was done, and then shuffled over to the next one. He was almost ready to blow and she barely had her lips wrapped around him when he came.
I'm swallowing their cum,
Abi noted with detachment. That wasn't something she'd ever really done before, but this was a dream.
The third gentleman offered her a swig of his drink and she made a crack about polite guests, which everyone laughed at appreciatively.
"Give him the special, honey," called the man on the hearth. Somehow she understood, and so she heaved her tits out of her dress and, doing a very unladylike quick and dirty slobber up and down his cock to get him good and slick, proceeded to titfuck him with her glorious soft breasts.
She watched his cock disappear and reappear as she moved up and down. Finally, he came, spurting onto her chest. She dragged his dick through her cleavage to wipe off all his load. The next man got his balls suckled and only just made it into her mouth before cumming.
The next two men got her split attention, alternating sucking and stroking them. The first came in her mouth and the other came on her hand as she was still sucking down cum. She managed to scoop her hand over his cockhead and catch the semen. Once she was done drinking the first man, she licked the second's semen off her palm.
The sixth man got a thorough sucking, deep and strong with fuck me eyes. It didn't take him long either, and now she'd swallowed four full loads and drank up two more.
The last three men hadn't cum yet, and she ended up on her knees, holding up her luscious tits as a landing pad for their loads. She kneeled there on the floor for some time as the stragglers cranked their hogs, until finally one of them stumbled forward and dropped some semen onto her sweet, sweet tits.
She wasn't speaking, just waiting, an object with a purpose. The final two men came almost as one, their shots spattering together on her tits, running down into her decolletage.
Once the final drops had been shaken down and the men had fallen back into their seats, she raised her tits even higher to lick and slurp the precious juice. God her tits were huge. She rolled her fingers over her nipples and felt a jolt of pleasure. She hefted her jugs up again to smear what semen was left onto her face.
Finally it was done, in that dream time fashion, and she was on her marriage bed with her husband alone, tender, and he was deep in her to the hilt, whispering how much he loved her precious cunt, saying how much he loved her juicy tight cunt that could take so many dicks, though none had been had that way today. And the necklace was burning like fire on her chest.
The necklace ...
* * *
When Abigail woke up in the chair, her arms were clammy and folded on her desk, and her crotch was hot and damp, feeling worn but still excited.
Again? What's gotten into me? What the fuck was that dream?
It was 3:00 in the morning. She sat in the dark, running through the night's events. What the hell was wrong with her? She sniffed her hand, smelling herself.
In the darkness she could barely make out Rachel's empty bed. Moving as quietly as she could, as if any noise might summon her friend (or "friend?") to return, Abi crawled into her own bed and tried to get back to sleep.
When she awoke again she felt cool air on her ass and pussy. She was face down in bed, grinding her crotch against the mattress in an automatic fugue, the blanket cast aside. Abi snapped her head up, but thankfully Rachel still wasn't in the room.
She checked the time, after 9:00, that meant that if Rachel had returned, she'd gone back out to the gym for her morning routine. Her friend wouldn't be back for a couple hours if that was the case. Or should she be saying "friend," after what had happened last night? What
had
happened last night?
She realized she'd blown through the start time for her class with Page. Oh well, she'd blown the paper too. Turning over in bed, Abi spread her legs and aired out her poor abused pussy.
She tousled her bush, feeling drops of new wetness.
G-d, I'm gagging for it aren't I? Is this a medical thing?
Her fingers crept down to her lips again, testing the waters. Electricity flowed through her thighs, and Abi couldn't believe herself, she was still horny!
She decided to experiment. A fast finger fuck, no subtlety, just straight and to the point. She came rapidly. Her mind felt a little clearer in the moment.
She waited until the buzz of her orgasm subsided and then tried again. It was like she was insatiable. Abi continued this experiment until she'd came five times in a row without a break, and her pussy felt hungry for more, still sopping wet.
In fact, after each successive orgasm she became even more aroused and less satisfied, and her nipples were sticking up out of her large, pink areolas like the classic erotica descriptor, two pencil erasers.
No, they were more like two pink bullets, and with her mother's necklace laying between her tits like some ritual object as her chest heaved and her fingers worked in and out of her sopping cunt. She realized the bizarre itch in her anus had gone away entirely, replaced by this insatiable need in her pussy.
The mental clarity she felt dissipated rapidly after each orgasm, forcing her to rally again and again.
