Story 1—The Professor's Creampie Sex Toys

The hallway outside was quiet, but inside the men’s bathroom my heart hammered like a drum against my ribs. I’m Sylvia, a shameless twenty year old college student, and according to the rumors, the biggest slut on campus.

Ever since that video of me making out with five guys went viral, most people pretended not to know my name. They just called me slut, whore, cum-dump. I stopped caring months ago. The names only made me wetter. I didn’t give a fuck. Today, I was finally living up to the title once more.

Brian, the rugby team’s captain, had his back pressed against the cubicle wall, breathing ragged. He looked horny yet terrified of getting caught. That delicious fear in his eyes made my pussy throb.

I dropped to my knees on the cold tiles, not giving a fuck about the discomfort. My fingers dragged his zipper down and his thick, heavy cock sprang free, already twitching with need. I stroked it first, rubbing the silky hot shaft across my cheek, kissing the pulsing vein underneath.

“Mmm… finally,” I purred, looking up at him with hungry eyes. I dragged my tongue slowly from his balls all the way to the swollen, shiny head, tasting the salty musk of him. A low, needy moan escaped my throat as I swirled my tongue around the tip, I noticed a bead of pre cum and I sucked it up like candy.

I parted my lips and took him in inch by inch until my nose pressed against his trimmed pubes and his cockhead hit the back of my throat.

My eyes watered instantly. Saliva flooded my mouth and spilled down my chin as I started bobbing, sloppy and eager.

Brian groaned, his hand sliding into my hair. I pulled off just long enough to spit on his cock, stroking the slick length while I sucked one heavy ball into my mouth, then the other, bathing them with my tongue. 

They were warm and delicious, like raw oysters. I left long trails of saliva connecting my lips to his sack, then poured even more spit onto his shaft, stroking it slippery and messy. I wiggled his cock, letting drops splash across my face like a filthy little game.

“Fuck, you really are a nasty little whore,” he muttered, voice strained.

I grinned around his balls. “I’ve begged for six months just to taste you, Captain. Give it to me.”

I swallowed him to the root again, gagging wetly, throat convulsing around his cock.

Brian lost control. His grip tightened and he started fucking my face. He started with slow, deep thrusts at first, then faster, using my mouth like a toy. Slurping sounds echoed off the cubicle walls. My eyes watered, my cheeks hurt, but I didn’t pull back. I wanted every inch. I wanted to choke on him.

“Almost there, slut,” he growled.

His cock swelled on my tongue. With a deep groan he buried himself deep and exploded. Thick, hot ropes of cum blasted straight down my throat. I swallowed greedily, milking him with my lips, refusing to waste a drop. When he finally pulled out, he slapped his still-hard cock across my smeared face, painting my cheeks and lips with his cum.

“Good girl. Now get the fuck up, bitch.”

I stood on shaky legs. He spun me around roughly, yanked my tiny skirt up over my ass, and shoved three thick fingers into my dripping cunt without warning. I gasped as he curled and twisted them, stroking that perfect spot until my knees buckled.

“Lick them clean.”

I obeyed instantly, sucking my own sweet juices off his fingers like a desperate bitch.

He bent me over the toilet, slapped my ass hard enough to sting, then dragged the fat head of his cock up and down my soaked slit. He pushed in just the tip… and pulled out again.

“You think I’d let you have it that easily? Beg for it, slut.”

“Please, Brian,” I whimpered, pushing my ass back with raw hunger. “Please fuck me. I need that fat rugby cock ruining my pussy.”

He gripped my hips and slammed into me. I cried out as he stretched me wide open, his heavy balls slapping against my clit with every brutal thrust. The wet, filthy sound of him pounding me filled the cubicle.

“Fuck yes! Harder!” I moaned, arching my back like a whore in heat. I twisted my hips, pushing back to take him deeper. He groaned, his grip tightening on my waist, then grabbed a fistful of my hair and wrapped his other hand around my throat.

“Faster, Brian! Don’t stop… fuck me harder!” I screamed, clawing at the cubicle wall.

My orgasm hit hard and fast. My pussy clenched around him, juices squirting down my thighs.

Bang!

“What the fuck was that?” Brian froze mid-thrust, his cock still buried deep inside me.

“Don’t you dare stop,” I hissed, pushing back against him desperately.

“What if we get caught?” he whispered. “Do you know what people will say if they catch the captain of the league’s best rugby team fucking the school’s biggest slut in the bathroom?”

“I said don't stop, besides who cares.”

“I do,” he shot back.

“Keep fucking me, Brian.”

Brian was on the verge of pulling out. I reached back and gripped the base of his cock, holding him deep inside me.

The cubicle door suddenly swung open.

Professor Garvin stood there, eyes wide as he took in the scene of me bent over like a cheap whore, skirt around my waist, Brian’s thick cock stretching my dripping pussy, cum and juices already leaking down my thighs.

For one endless, heart stopping second, nobody moved. I expected shock or disgust. Instead, he just stared, then stepped back without a word and let the door swing shut again.

Brian looked like he might have a heart attack.

I smiled, clenching my pussy around his still throbbing cock.

“See?” I whispered, voice husky. “Nobody gives a fuck… now keep fucking me, Captain.”