21 - Fallon
~ 21 ~
FALLON
The guys straight up took me apart after the gym. I was already quivering with excitement as I heard the door slam open, followed by a mad, noisy dash up the stairs to see who got me first. Apparently they’d made an agreement, and there was a race I didn’t even know about. They were practically pulling each other down, yanking each other backwards in the frenzied competition to see who would be the first one between my legs. Trey won — probably through sheer size alone — and I let out a breathless sigh, as I happily spread my thighs for him.
They took turns on me as they had before; pounding me, fucking me, their already-glistening bodies dripping sweat all over my nakedness, where it intermingled with mine. I sighed and moaned and came all over them, and this time there was no nervousness, no hesitation in our lovemaking. I opened myself to the boys wholeheartedly, giving myself completely over. In turn they held back nothing as they took me again and again, sometimes two, sometimes three at a time, dropping back only to rest and watch and ready themselves for the next round.
I loved it when they traded off on me, but even more when they got overly physical. There was an inexplicable thrill that came with the helplessness of being held down, their impossibly strong arms pinning me tightly so their friends could have their way. Every time they switched places, I was wetter than before. Every time I caught one of them watching intently as the others fucked me, the look of jealous lust in their eyes turned me on beyond belief.
That evening ended in a sweaty, sex-soaked pile of bodies, followed by a round of hot showers and the mother of all snuggles on our cozy, comfy couch. I took turns laying across their strong quivering thighs, sighing with contentment as the boys stroked my hair, ran their fingertips over my body, and flipped aimlessly through the channels until I fell fast asleep.
The days that followed were thrilling, filled with the untold adventures of living with three men who were, for all intents and purposes, my new boyfriends. But the nights…
The nights were downright molten .
At night, within the confines of the old fraternity house? Anything went. And to my delight, not to mention my disrupted sleep schedule, anything and everything often did.
I became their lover, their outlet, their shared plaything. The boys took me whenever they wanted, and nothing between us was off-limits. I could get bent over in the middle of washing the dishes, or taken right on my hands and knees, while helping them lay the floor. We worked on the house together often, and depending upon the heat, in various stages of undress. More than once we dropped our tools and retreated to the cushions of the nearest couch, where the boys worked on me for the next several minutes, before going back to work again.
Of course, I was just as guilty as them, and maybe even three times as horny. I’d work myself up waiting for them to finish practice, only to jump them the second they walked through the door. There was the time I pushed Dalton back on the couch and mounted him, grinding him to a quick orgasm before he could even drop his keys on the kitchen table. And Emerson’s showers were never lonely, because now I was invading his morning schedule. More than once I got up to have him before and after his morning run. I’d say we conserved water by constantly showering together, but that wasn’t true. The fact was we spent twice as much time beneath the heated spray, rutting like rabbits and making sure we both got what we needed before we even started our day.
A beaming Trey scored an eighty-two on his next math exam, and I made good on my promise. I crept into his room at exactly midnight, pulled his boxers down, and proceeded to give him the sluttiest blowjob of his life. I made it hot, wet, and nasty; not to mention chock full of the kind of soft, feminine whimpers that had always sent my ex-boyfriends straight over the edge. When he opened his mouth to tell me he was going to come, I shushed him with a quick finger. Then I took his entire load in my mouth, showed it to him for a dirty second, then spit it back all over his still-glistening shaft, before licking it all up again.
By the time I swallowed he was in absolute heaven, staring down at me with lustful eyes. I had the sudden urge to kiss him, and I almost did. Some guys didn’t mind kissing a girl after a good blowjob, but some also did. Rather than take the chance, I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then sauntered out of his bedroom without either of us having uttered a single word.
Best and perhaps worst of all, the guys took to sneaking into my bedroom at all hours of the night. One by one they’d show up, or even two at a time, looking to take me fast, or maybe slow, or even just to climb under the covers and wrap their arms around me. They’d hold me ‘till dawn, or until another of them crept inside with much different motives in mind. And they were motives that I always, no matter what, were happy to accommodate.
I was never alone, because on the nights the boys were too tired to seek me out, I crept into their rooms instead. I’d slide naked into one or more of their beds, only to dive down and wake them with my mouth, or whisper filthy things into their warm, sleepy ears while letting my hands play. I loved grinding against them until they were rock-hard and couldn’t take it anymore, then throw a leg over them and slide them inside me. Sometimes they got sleep-angry and held me down, and that turned me on most of all. I sighed happily beneath the sheer weight of their large, masculine bodies, crushing me in the darkness as they rolled between my thighs to plunge desperately inside. I came almost instantly on nights like this, and they did too. We were usually asleep within minutes, or if I was feeling greedy, I’d slip across the hall to the next bedroom and do the same.
Homecoming came and went, with pageantry and partying and a glorious 37-3 victory over Angelo State University. I rode the wave of celebration throughout the weekend, party-hopping across campus with the guys and chaperoning Trey and Emerson when they got drunk off their faces. It was a little nerve-wracking, watching the dozens of pretty sorority girls fawning over the players, some of them doing their best to hang off my new boyfriends. But each was adept — and surprisingly quick — at fending off unwanted advances, even while drunk. It felt good whenever they’d look for me in the crowd, smile, and pull me into their arms instead.
That was one of the first nights the boys came home and passed out instead of passing me around. All except Dalton, who’d downed only a few beers and remained in complete control. We stayed up until three in the morning, talking, laughing, and trading stories like old friends who hadn’t caught up in years. Which I realized, we really hadn’t. I’d wasted so much time trying to meet Blaine’s impossible expectations, that our friendship, which had started this whole thing in the first place, had been completely neglected.
By the time the second week flew by I was totally hooked. Physically, emotionally, and sexually, I was completely addicted to my life with the guys. I loved both parts of our friends with benefits arrangement equally and without reservation. And with all the fun and laughter we shared beneath the roof of the constantly-under-construction frat house, the place was very quickly feeling more and more like home.