Ollie

Oliver was bored. He rarely ever went to college parties but was pressured to come out tonight by his friends.

"Come on," they said. "It's the last weekend of college. Do you really want to spend it sitting inside doing nothing?"

Oliver muttered a small yes but it was not loud enough for them to hear. "I guess not. I'll come with you guys. As long as you promise not to run off and leave me alone."

His friends were scattered around the party talking to everyone but him. He was left alone.

Oliver sighed, fantasizing about the unopened box of Cheez-Its he left next to his computer monitor. He checked his watch: 9:30.

He figured the alcohol would help. He chugged the last of his vodka soda, searching for another when he was stopped by a girl he only slightly knew.

She watched as her red lips moved to speak. "Hey, Ollie, right?" Ollie. No one ever called him that. He hated it.

"It's Oliver, yeah."

He meant to ask her name, but was interrupted. "I think you're in my Econ class?"

Oliver finally got the courage to look her in the eyes. They were a deep blue, the kind of blue that put whoever lay eyes with her in a trance. Her hair made it worse; it was blonde and wavy, and Oliver couldn't help but want to touch it. It looked soft. Comfortable.

"Uh, yeah. I think so. Professor Foster?"

"Yeah! God, what a boring professor..."

Oliver took a glance at her tits but quickly caught himself. She noticed him and seemed to laugh under her breath, turning his face into a light shade of red. Even worse, he could feel a growing bulge in his pants. He cursed at himself under his breath:

why am I so fucking needy?

She noticed his discomfort. Even amongst all the people, he felt fully on display to her, like he couldn't hide the bulge in his pants and his growing neediness.

Her honeyed voice broke his thinking. "Are you a virgin?"

He was. "W-what?"

"That's what I thought," she laughed.

He felt humiliated and fixated his gaze on the empty cup in his hands. How could she tell that he was a virgin?

She smiled and nudged him. "Your cup looks empty. You should get another drink."

Without question, he did what she said. Oliver, now even more nervous than before, decided to take a few shots. He came back with another full vodka soda.

"Good boy," she giggled, looking at his cup.

Oliver felt his bulge press harder against his jeans and shifted. He was taken aback by her confidence. "W-what did you say?"

He couldn't help his stuttering.

She touched his hand playfully, causing him to shiver. "So you're a virgin, huh? That's cute, Ollie".

Ollie.

She spoke before he could think of a response. "It's like you're fragile, like a single touch could make you cum." She locked eyes with him and smiled, playfully grabbing his cock through his jeans. Oliver almost spilled his already half-empty drink. There was no way to hide it now: his cock was hard.

Oliver backed away from her. "What the fuck? Can you please stop?"

"You really want me to stop?"

"Yes!"

"Your hard on tells me differently" she looked at his cock and laughed. "I think your body wants me."

She leaned closer. "No, I think your body

needs

me."

He was practically shaking when she grabbed his arm and led him into one of the fraternity's bedrooms. She closed the door, but didn't lock it.

He felt the alcohol flush his face and dizzy his head, causing him to sway. That's when he had the realization: she wasn't drunk at all. She was in full control of herself and, even worse, she was in full control of him.

"Take off your clothes for mommy."

He did what she said. He didn't know if it was the needy cock pressing against his jeans or the alcohol clouding his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to disobey her wishes.

As he pulled off his boxers, his cock sprang up towards her. She giggled.

"You needy little slut!" She bent down to observe. "You're already dripping with pre-cum. Do you really want to fuck me that badly?"

He only blushed and looked away. Why couldn't he control his urges?

When Ollie didn't respond, she wrapped a tight grip around his cock. He gasped.

She repeated herself. "Do you really want to fuck me

that

badly?"

"Y-yes" he replied.

"Yes what?"

"Yes I want to fuck you that badly."

She looked at him expectantly and he realized his mistake. "Yes I want to fuck you that badly," he took a breath in. "...mommy."

She smiled in approval and pushed him down to the wooden floor. "Get on all fours, boy."

The ground felt cold as he pressed his hands and knees against it. He looked up from the floor to see her amused face looking down at him, then shifted his gaze back down again. He felt so small at her feet.

"Good boy, Ollie." That name made him feel even smaller. "Start panting like a dog for mommy."

He looked up at her and stuck out his tongue, small whimpers escaping his throat as he breathed in and out. He wondered why he complied so easily.

She wanted more. "Now bark."

He put his tongue back in his mouth and caught his breath. "What?"

"You heard me, Ollie. Bark."

"B-but," he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But that's embarrassing, mommy." He was already mortified enough.

"Fine," She started for the door. "Then I might as well not waste my time with you."

"No, mommy, wait!" Ollie yelped. He was too ashamed to meet his eyes with hers. "Please, don't go. I'll... I'll bark for you."

She won. He began to bark, and she turned back around to face him. He felt like he was going to cry; he had never felt so used, so degraded. Small "ruffs" and "woofs" reluctantly left his lips as his cock hung stiff underneath him.

She bent down to touch it, and he almost melted when she did. A wave of pleasure ran over him when her fingers traced along his shaft.

His barking was stifled when he felt two slender fingers force themselves into his ass. He tried not to scream in pain, but couldn't help but let out a small wail; he had never had anything in his hole before. One finger was more than he could handle, let alone two.

She didn't seem to care. She pumped her fingers faster and he moaned in pleasure and pain, using all of his strength not to start humping the ground beneath him.

"M-mommy, please touch my cock. I can't handle it anymore, p-please," he felt tears begin to form in his eyes.

There was that expectant look again. "Please touch

who's

cock?"

He felt a familiar shame creep back into his chest. "Please touch Ollie's cock, mommy."

His arms almost gave out when she started stroking. With one of her hands pumping in and out of his ass and the other stroking his cock, he could already feel his orgasm forming.

As her hands moved quicker, he reached his breaking point. He moaned as his hot, white cum shot onto the ground below him.

"Aww Ollie," she pulled her fingers out of his ass, causing him to whimper. He was so sensitive. "You made a big mess. Don't you realize that we're guests in this house?"

"I..." he was still catching his breath, dizzy from his orgasm and the alcohol. "I'm sorry, mommy."

"Be a polite houseguest and lick up your mess."

With shame still burning in his chest, he bent down and began scooping up his cum with his tongue. He was almost done when he heard a door click open and shocked laughter.

A tall man's startled eyes met his. "Oh, shit, uh, sorry." He quickly shut the door, trying to hold back his laughter.

That's when the tears started to fall. Ollie was mortified. He had never been so ashamed of himself.

His mommy laughed and patted him on the head. "Good boy."

She was gone before he knew it, and he was left to wallow alone in his drunken shame and embarrassment.

Though, for a reason Oliver couldn't decipher, he missed her. He wanted her to come back.

He wanted his mommy to come back.

And she never even told him her name.