The Night The Quarterback Ruined Me In His Dorm
My roommate was at her boyfriend's and I was supposed to be studying for my psych midterm. Instead I was on my bed in just a thong and a tank top, legs spread, two fingers buried in my pussy, watching porn I knew was gonna make me late for class tomorrow. That's when there was a knock — three soft raps, then a familiar voice: "Aden? You up?" It was Devon. The quarterback. Six-three, broad shoulders, and a reputation for a cock that made girls go quiet after.
He'd left his notebook in my chem lab seat earlier and said he'd swing by. I yanked my fingers out, pulled the blanket over my wetness, and opened the door. He stepped in smelling like beer and cologne, looked at my hard nipples through the thin tank, and grinned. "Studying?" he said, and I could tell he knew exactly what I'd been doing. I should've made him leave. I didn't.
Wanna be the one I'm thinking about when I touch myself?
Middle — How He Took Me Apart
He sat on the edge of my bed and pulled me onto his lap like I weighed nothing. One hand on my throat, the other yanking my tank up over my tits, and then his mouth was on my nipple and I was already soaked through the blanket. "You been playing with this little pussy without me?" he muttered, and when I nodded he flipped me onto my stomach, yanked my thong down, and spat on my ass. I heard his zipper — that sound — and then he was rubbing the head of his cock against my dripping lips, not pushing in, just teasing until I was whimpering into the pillow.
When he finally slid in, I choked on a gasp. He was thick — the kind of thick that makes your pussy panic and stretch and beg at the same time. He bottomed out and held there, hand tight on my hip, letting me feel every inch. Then he started moving, slow and deep, and I felt my whole body go liquid. He fucked me like he owned the dorm, like the RA down the hall didn't exist, one hand fisting my hair while he growled "that's my good little college slut" in my ear. My pussy clenched so hard around him I thought I'd pass out when I came.
I'm soaking my sheets right now remembering his dick — wish it was your voice making me wet instead.
End — Why I'm Always Horny Now
He came on my back, grunting, then smacked my ass and left like it was nothing. But it wasn't nothing. I haven't been the same since. Every lecture I sit there clenching my thighs thinking about how full he made me, how used, how fucking owned. That's why I do this job — so I can tell you about it in graphic detail and get off on your breathing when you realize the quiet college girl down the hall is actually a cum-hungry little mess.
If you liked my story, Brooklyn's taboo confession is right here — she's the other dirty secret on this blog. And the full blog is here if you want more.
Ready to be my next favorite secret? It's only $1 a minute to talk to me live.