"Don't you want me?"
"Sure. But I can't fuck you when I'm like this."
"If I get you hard, will you fuck me?"
"You get me hard, and I'll fuck you."
"Come here," she purred, her voice warm with promise.
"Unh-uh. You want me, you come to me."
She squirmed to the edge of the bed, and, after a brief snuggle, managed to sit up. Then she started to get to her feet.
"On your knees."
Meekly, submissively, she sank down. Then she realized she couldn't crawl with her ankles bound together.
So she started toward him in an inchworm sort of motion. She bent over and pressed her cheek and one shoulder to the floor. Then she dragged her knees up to her chest. Then she reached forward again with her cheek and shoulder, and repeated the motion. The fresh humiliation brought her horniness to a new, agonizing level. If she didn't manage to get him hard, and get his cock into her, she would die from frustration.
Reaching him, she dragged herself up to his lap, and contemplated his drained, crusty prick. She sought it with her mouth, then tongued it lovingly. She mumbled his drained penis around in her mouth, desperately tried to arouse the rubbery, soggy sausage of flesh.
Slowly, so slowly she wasn't even sure at first, his dick began to respond. While she sucked fresh life into his prick, he stroked her head as if she were a pet dog. Her pussy drooled hungrily as she tongued his gradually-swelling pecker.
Bit by bit, his cock expanded, filled her mouth. She swirled her tongue over the rubbery tip, around and around the conical knob. She was tasting his cum, her spit, and the juices left from his first penetration of her.
His cock was half hard now. She felt the blood pulsing into it, distending it, inflating it. She sucked, drew still more blood into it.
Her cunt was a seething cave of hunger. This time, she would get it. The first time had been such a shock she hadn't really had a chance to enjoy it. And it had been from behind, so her clit had been unstimulated. This time, somehow, she would take him face to face, so her clit would be ground into a flaming smear.
His cock was nearly ready. She sucked on it, then let it flop against his belly, so she could lick the underside from balls to tip. Then she tongued his balls. When she stroked his dick she felt it shudder and swell still more.
When Wil pushed her away from his erect cock, she was terrified he was going back on his promise. Then he scooped her up and carried her to the bed and dropped her on her back. Her legs trailed off the edge. Bending down, he untied her ankles, then pulled her jeans off.
With a moan of gratitude, she spread her legs wide and thrust her cunt at him. She put all the longing she could in her eyes. He hovered over her. When he finally lowered himself onto her, she thought she was going to die. His cock nuzzled into her pussy, slid deep into her hole. The way was well greased by the hours of stimulation she had endured. His cock sank into her, pushed blindly against the end of her tunnel. Then, he rested. After an eternity, she felt his fingers pry behind her back and fumble with the ties that held her wrists. Suddenly, she was free!
Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she humped madly, ground her clit between them. Wil hugged her, and began to piston his cock in her swampy shaft. Their bodies met with a wet, smacking slap. He pounded her crotch tissues to a soggy pulp. His fingers dug into her tail, pried her ass cheeks apart, probed her crack. She clutched his tight, hard butt, urged him to thrust deep into her.
She began muttering and moaning as fire raged through her. The flames surged higher every time he hit her clitoris. She figured he would be able to go for a long, long time, because of his two earlier cummings. She prayed she would have the stamina to take advantage of it.
The bed squeaked and groaned as he hammered into her again and again. The insides of her thighs began to feel as raw and sore as her tail had after the spanking. She humped her pelvis madly, and her pleasure grew and grew and grew. His finger touched her asshole, and she wailed with excitement. She felt him twisting into the tight ring of muscle, and yelled deliriously. It felt so good!
She was cumming. It was a flaring, fuckering, gushing climax that went on and one. It climbed higher and higher as he drilled his finger into her asshole and pistoned his dick in her cunt. She clutched at his butt, sought his crapper with her finger. As she orgasmed, she returned his favor, drove her finger slowly into his shitty depths. She felt his prostate spasm, felt his dick leap. Then, his cock rammed full depth into her, he froze. His dick pumped and jerked. She wondered vaguely if there was any jizz left for her cunt, but didn't really care. Her own cumming crested in a glittering fireball that tumbled her down into delicious exhaustion and blackness.
She felt wonderfully, satisfyingly abused as she fell asleep. His lowly-shrinking cock was still in her sodden hole.
CHAPTER SIX
Clara stared out the dorm window. Below, a couple walked arm in arm through the pool of light cast by one of the street lamps. Clara wondered what it was like to be comfortably in love, wondered if she ever could be, or would be.
She wondered if a simple, straight-forward fuck would ever bring her satisfaction. The blazing ecstasy she had felt when Wil had bound her with neckties was still fresh in her mind. And there was also the gang rape she had experienced at Hemlock House.
It was awful the way her pussy steamed up when she just thought about what she had done. She was dominated by her unholy sexual desires.
What if she couldn't find satisfaction in a normal relationship? What if she was doomed to go through life a slave to her perverted lusts?
The idea horrified her. It couldn't be, it just couldn't be.
A surge of restlessness drove her up out of the chair. Going over to the closet, she yanked out a coat and put it on. Without even bothering with her purse, she stamped out, and down the hall.
Outside, the cool night air washed over her. Sucking in a deep breath, she tossed her head, tried to shake the knots out of her mind. The night beckoned. She struck off across campus, not paying any attention to where she was going.
And still her mind ran down the same depressing paths. What if the only satisfaction she could find involved bondage and humiliation?
The thought made her gut knot with fear. She had to prove it was false. She wasn't sick. She wasn't a pervert. She would prove it.
But how? With Wil? She couldn't do that. She had gone down a one-way road with him. And besides, she had tried it the other way with him before, and there had been no satisfaction.
She looked up and realized she had unconsciously chosen the path to the library. Behind the glowing windows she could see a few students grinding away. She wondered how many of them had heard about what she had done at Hemlock House. She had seen the speculative looks people have been giving her, and knew that the story must be out.
"Hi, Clara," someone greeted her casually as he headed for the parking lot.
"Hi," she answered vaguely. Then she placed him, and turned. "Hi!" she said eagerly. She didn't know his name, but his face was familiar.
"Can I give you a lift somewhere?" he asked, unlocking the door of his car.
How could she prove she wasn't a helpless victim of her own sick desires? Suddenly, she knew. "Where are you headed?" she asked while she searched frantically for his name. Red hair and freckles, blue eyes, glasses, a grind… Larry!
"Back to my room," he answered.
She wondered if he had heard about her performance at Hemlock House. "I was just out for a walk. Why don't we go for a drive or something?"
"Oh. Uh, okay," he agreed, puzzled.
Once in the car, Clara leaned against the passenger side door and eyed him speculatively. Hunger was a growing knot of fire in her belly. She was afraid he would reject her.