Vixen had four subjects on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and on the first day of classes she got to all four on time and before the sessions were over, she made sure each of her teachers knew her name. It was not hard since the slight redhead with the big boobs was wearing her skin-tight jeans and a skimpy t-shirt a couple of sizes too small.
The biology lecture had really interested her, and she looked forward to the labs. The English course was about writing a research paper and that, she feared, meant a lot of work, but the teacher was young and cute. The world history teacher, she decided, was about a hundred and five, and he could lecture with his eyes closed, which he did, but he raised an eyebrow when he spotted Vixen, her legs crossed in the second row as she took notes in more-or-less outline form. He did like young girls with good thighs, always had.
The PE class had been dull, all girls, and just a talk about female health, STDs and school rules. She did learn where she could get free condoms.
She was started, she was a college student.
She and her roommate Cal discussed the first day and drank a beer before going down to the cafeteria. One meal there made both of them decide they would eat elsewhere from now on.
Vixen turned down lacrosse-captain Ralph Stimson and three other very eager young men and slept soundly in her own bed while Cal went off to spend an evening with some members of the swim team and hook-up with one of them.
The Tuesday and Thursday class was Public Speaking, and the teacher was an over-weight, middle-aged man who wore pancake make-up and a very bad wig. At the first session, he had each student stand in alphabetical order and introduce him or herself. Vixen was glad she had worn her faded Levis and her baggy Princeton sweatshirt when she came to the front of the class and said her name, told them where she was from, and said she was looking forward to a very interesting semester. She smiled and made good eye contact, noting the eager looks of most males.
She sat and exhaled, slightly red in the face and the teacher frowned at her. “See me at the end,” he said as the next student got up. Her nervousness had surprised her, and so did this request.
After class she stood before his desk, hands behind her. She tossed back her ponytail, smiled and tried to look pleasant and not impatient. She had a boy waiting in the hall who had eagerly promised to make her scream with his tongue, and she was looking forward to that. Cunnilingus was one of her absolutely favorite activities.
“I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?” the teacher said, cocking his head to one side and sucking his teeth.
She shook her head, making the ponytail sway. “Don’t think so. We went to Atlantic City once.”
“Nope. Ah, I know. Yes, yes. You made that nice little video with the basketball players, didn’t you; fifteen minutes or so, hardcore. Just little you and five big bucks, right?”
“Uh uh,” said Vixen as her stomach churned. “Must be somebody else.”
“Oh no,” he said. “I’m sure I’m right. Take off your shirt. I saw it, five at the same time, hell of a thing.”
“No,” said the girl loudly.
“How old are you?” he asked, looking angry as she backed away.
Vixen left, slamming the door behind her.
After the second speech class, a lecture on preparation, the instructor stopped her at the door, his hand on her upper arm. “You were sixteen when you did those porn films, right? I found three more on the Internet, and I searched the birth-death records in Albany. You’re only seventeen now.”
“None of your business,” Vixen said, pulling free.
“You can go to jail, and so can the people who made those things. Or you can be nice to me and . . .”
“Go to hell,” Vixen spat and ran down the hall, tears in her eyes.
She called Ralph at his frat house and told him she wanted to see him. At the student union they drank Cokes, and Vixen told the young man that her speech teacher was threatening her. “He knows something that could get me in trouble, my dad too.”
“What?” the boy asked.
Vixen shook her head and bit her lips. “I think he’s gay. I know he’s weird. He’s wearing make-up.”
“You know about drop-add?” Ralph asked. “You can get out, change electives.”
She shook her head, looking sad.
He explained. “So just get the form at the office and drop that stupid course and sign up for something else, maybe music or art. You can get that speech requirement later.”
She sniffed. “That won’t stop him.”
“One of the guys in the fraternity is gay. I’ll see what he knows.”
Vixen dropped the speech course and signed up for Introductory Drawing. Ralph and his buddies downloaded the teacher’s hard disc to some thumbdrives while he was in class. They found some very strange BDSM porn on his computer, confronted him with it, and he left the college that weekend. Seaside hired a retired teacher as an adjunct and saved some money.
Vixen rewarded Ralph to the point where she had to help him up the steps of his fraternity house.
College settled down to a very normal routine except for when Cal’s bronc riding boyfriend visited. Vixen spent that week in Ralph’s fraternity house bed and wore him out. In general, she limited herself to only one or two new men a week, on Tuesdays and Thursday afternoons. She actually thought about having a waiting list on her Blackberry.
Vixen invited her roommate to come home with her for the long Thanksgiving weekend, but the lithe swimmer had already agreed to stay at one of the sorority houses. Disappointed, and starting to believe that Cal was bi-sexual, Vixen left school early Wednesday afternoon and reached the outskirts of Rome, New York, some five and a half hours later.
Vixen’s father was expecting her and had a good supper of take-out Chinese in the oven. After they ate, enjoying happy chatter about school and hometown news, Vixen went out with the very wealthy Miller brothers, Johnny and Jimmy, both of whom owned Porsche Boxsters.
She perched on John’s lap while Jim drove and Johnny pawed. Vixen had called them the week before, and they were eager for reunion with the girl they both had enjoyed several times. Vixen, who did not think much of the boys as lovers, just wanted a good time and knew they could afford it.
At the country club they drank, danced and chatted, and the boys got Vixen all caught up on who was romancing whom and where to get first-class weed and some other drugs. Her tiny white skirt and incredible chest attracted a great deal of attention on the small dance floor since her lace-topped gown was draped deeply between her incredible mounds and held up by thin spaghetti straps.
“We saw one of your movies up at Yale,” Jimmy told the girl with a smile. “I really couldn’t believe it was you until they did a close up of your face while this guy was ass fucking you. Boy, did you scream!”
“Gee, that’s embarrassing,” Vixen said, thoroughly nonplussed as she scanned the room for people she knew. “But I had fun doing those. They’re going to pay for college. You guys ready to play?”
The boys grinned at each other, rose, took her hands and hurried her upstairs to the room they had rented. The three stripped in record time and jumped on one of the twin beds almost together. Vixen crouched over Johnny’s limber body and sucked his eager cock deep while his brother stroked her puffy-lipped slot from behind, got up on his toes and sank his rigid cock up into her. She gasped, arched and shuddered, but then went right back to sucking and licking.
The three managed to establish a decent rhythm, and the boys came nearly together and then they flopped, all three of them, tangled together and laughing. Vixen slid down Johnny’s body into a 69 position and let him suck her bubbling vulva while she tried to revive his soggy penis with her talented tongue. When Jim recovered he eased his slick erection into the girl’s anus and got up above the slurping pair to enjoy himself, fingers buried in her buttocks.
Once the boys were sated, Vixen got back into her tiny skirt and frilly top and went back down to the club and got another highball. Within minutes a tall young man came and sat at the small table and smiled at her. “Remember me,” he said, offering his hand. “Phil Jacobs, I worked for your father a year or so ago.”
Vixen nodded, recalling that she had both sucked and fucked the man while trying to persuade her father she could make movies for him. Now, she was surprised to learn, her father was out of the hard-core trade, pushed out, so Phil told her, by the mob. He had not told her that.
“You alone?” Phil asked. “Thought I saw you leaving with some young guys a while back.”
Vixen nodded, sipping her drink and recalling that Phil was well-hung and very industrious as a lover. Neither of the Miller boys had brought her to a climax, and her body was crying for attention.
“Let’s go someplace where we can talk,” she suggested, almost saying fuck instead of talk.
“I’m just visiting here with a friend,” Phil said, unable to take his eyes from Vixen’s lovely breasts with their upright nipples which moved freely beneath her lacy top as one spaghetti strap almost slipped off her shoulder.
“Come on,” she said rising and taking his hand. “I know a place.” She hauled him eagerly up to the Millers’ rented room where they found the naked boys sprawled across the beds snoring. Vixen tossed her top on a chair, wiggled out of her tiny skirt and then, with Phil’s help, moved the inert boys onto one of the beds.
Vixen stripped and lay back, smiling, legs spread. She did not have long to wait before Phil mounted her and drove his big ram deeply into her steaming box. Vixen sighed with pleasure as the young man rose above her, moved up on her body with each thrust of his stiff ram and brought her to a gushing and squealing climax in less than five minutes of vigorous ramming.
“What, what,” moaned Johnny Miller, opening his eyes to see Vixen’s face across from his, her mouth open and eyes closed as some big guy bounced her off the mattress.
When Phil came, rocking the girl from side to side, Vixen managed to climax again on his deeply rutting cock and then kept him in her with her strong legs until he could do no more, and his deflated manhood was expelled from her steaming cunny. Phil staggered off toward the bathroom, and Vixen mounted Johnny Miller after stroking his tired manhood back to life. She rode him fiercely, bending forward so that her clit got all the attention it needed and so Johnny could not avoid tending her jutting nipples. With his face between her big jugs that swung nearly a foot to and fro with their rutting, the young man was in adolescent heaven.
By the time Johnny was spent, his brother was eager for another session and mounted Vixen from the back before she was fully disengaged from his limp brother. He sank much deeper than he had before, bending his back and holding the squealing girl’s hips as he rammed and rammed doggy fashion, rubbing her g-spot with each thrust and giving Vixen a tremendous series of lust-filled spasms. She reached back and smacked his buttocks to encourage him to drive into her harder and faster.
Phil stood at the bedside, his big cock in his hand, and watched Vixen being sandwiched between the two boys, and after the one behind her came and then fell away, he carried the limp girl over to a chair, sat and impaled on his lap with her back to him. He mauled her silicone-augmented tits as he thrust up into her soggy quim time after time. After a few minutes, Vixen seemed to revive, clamped hard on his striving manhood and wiggled back so she could see who was using her body.
“Oh Phil, Phil,” she moaned, “that’s so good. Come on back to the house with me.”
“Ah, ah, ah,” was all the young man could say, but after he ejaculated again and his brain caught up with his body, he found his clothes, and he and Vixen left the boys as they had found them, snoring away.
Phil drove Vixen back to her home, and she then took him up to her bedroom as quietly as she could. They undressed in the dark, rolled into bed and found each other’s mouth and bellies as their legs tangled. They coupled industriously in spoon fashion before they slept.
In the morning, Vixen left the limp man in her bed and tiptoed to her father’s room. She peeled back his covers and clamped her mouth on his piss-hard prick. The man awoke with a start and then buried his hands in her daughter’s hair while she satisfied him fully. When he got back from the bathroom, Vixen was under his blanket, wriggling with anticipation.
“I’ve got an idea,” she said. “I met Phil last night, and we talked about it. You know the Miller boys?”
Her father moved behind her and slid his long prick up into her as she lifted a leg. Vixen smiled and moaned. Her father had been her first lover, and he was still one of the best. He knew all her erogenous zones and how to stimulate them.
“Their father owns the bank in town, the Merchants Loan and Trust. You know the one.”
“Um,” said her father, slipping a hand up to one of the lovely breasts he had paid for.
“Well, you and Phil could make a series of ads for the bank, ads with pretty girls in them, plus a girl calendar, maybe semi-nudes, plus some print ads to go with the TV spots, a whole campaign. Then, if one bank bought it, you could sell it to other banks in other towns.”
“Um, hum,” said her father, moving in and out of her a bit faster.
They invited Phil to join them for Thanksgiving, and he accepted. Vixen braided up her hair and donned the Victoria’s Secret sweater dress they had bought for one of her short, sex-filled videos. They dined at the town’s best restaurant on turkey with oyster stuffing.
When it was Vixen’s turn, she said she was thankful for the friends she had made at college. Then she smiled, licked her lips and said, “And I’m grateful that I’m going to be dp’d by a pair of big fuckers like you two.” All three of them laughed and people at nearby tables smiled.
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