Chapter 1: Introduction
I guess I'll begin with a little introduction. So my name is Ashley. I'm 19 years old, 5' 6" tall, a natural blonde and someone whom you'd call a busty petite. See, for my size—I'm really skinny—I have rather large breasts. And although I love them, they also cause me a lot of trouble from constant back pains to constant stares. Big tits are great when it comes to your love life, but they are a pain in the ass when it comes to pretty much everything else.
They are heavy, they take up space, men won't look you in the eyes, random people on packed trains will "accidentally" brush up against them and so on. And those are just the everyday annoyances, too. Every once in a while, though, your breasts can get you in much bigger trouble. My story will be about one of those times.
***
The story I'm about to tell you happened in college during my freshman year. I enrolled at one of the country's best universities (at least I thought so), with big dreams of becoming an investigative journalist, so I could expose bad people and make the world a better place. I know. I was pretty naïve.
So I joined the college newspaper with high hopes. I knew I had a ladder to climb, but I was determined. So when I was tasked with reporting on community activities (you know, like balls, charity events, yard sales, that sort of stuff), I was fine with it. Even though I despised the genre, I considered it a good practice and I was pretty sure I would get noticed by my supervisors if I did a good job.
One time I was doing a report on a student ball held by the faculty of law. While doing interviews with the people in attendance, I met Craig. He was a 21-year-old law student who caught my eyes right away. He was really handsome and he was glad to talk to the school paper. So we started chatting and I instantly fell in love. He was not only good-looking, but smart and even more idealistic about changing the world than me. I ended up staying longer than I planned as we talked all night and at the end of the day, we changed numbers.
Craig was the perfect guy for me. He wanted to become a lawyer and bring corrupt politicians to justice. I wanted to become a journalist who would inspire people like him to pursue cases against such people by exposing their criminal activities to the public. I guess Craig, too, had realized we were meant for each other, because by next week, he asked me out on a date, and at the end of the date, he kissed me and asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend.
We were madly in love, and when Craig told me his plan to run for student president, I encouraged him and told him I'll support his campaign as much as I can. See, the current president was Max, a 28-year-old guy, who's been the head of the student government for the last 6 years, and been part of it since he was a freshman, which was 9 years ago. He was one of those types who never graduated.
But Max was far from the Peter Pan type who didn't want to enter adulthood so they just stayed in school forever. Max stayed in school because our student government had one of the largest budgets in the country. And guess what. It was also one of the most corrupt student governments. Max was as rotten as anyone can be. He basically lived from stealing university money, while using his power to manipulate others, organize drug-fueled parties, and have sex with girls left and right.
A notorious womanizer, Max would accept sex as bribes from sororities that needed more funding. He'd organize sex parties and live in wealth, but nobody did anything because everyone was in on it, from top to bottom. The whole system was corrupt including the teachers and the principal. It was a well-oiled machine: even though everyone knew how things worked, nobody talked about it. And if anyone tried, they would be either paid off, blackmailed or just flat-out silenced.
So Craig decided to do something about it. He was gonna dethrone Max and end corruption in our student government once and for all. It wasn't easy, because most people benefitted from the system in one way or another. Max also had dirt on almost anyone important. Not on my Craig though. There couldn't have been a better candidate than him to try and beat Max. And he had my full support.
Relentless, I kept doing my reports in the college paper, and my editor-in-chief, Tasha, soon noticed my talent. I got bigger assignments, and after a while, I started bringing in my own stories. I realized if we wanted to beat Max in the election, we needed to expose him, so I wrote this big exposé about his corruption, how he stole money from the school, how he used his power to manipulate others and how he was a misogynistic womanizer who accepted sex as payment from female students.
Tasha loved the article and not only wanted to publish it, but decided to put in on the front page. However, next morning, when I went to get the paper, the story was nowhere to be found. Dumbfounded, I went into our office only to find out that Tasha has mysteriously resigned, and there was a new editor-in-chief, Steve, who revoked my story the last second before it went into print. I knew Max did this. I was pretty sure someone ratted us out and Max blackmailed Tasha so she would silently resign.
You could tell Steve was his guy. He was a pig who immediately demoted me to the horoscope section. They knew this would be a better punishment for me than simply getting rid of me. Instead of firing me, they moved me from real news to made-up bullshit. They kept me around also to keep an eye on me. I was furious, but I needed the credit that I received for the extracurricular activity for my studies, so I stayed with the paper.
***
In the next few weeks, I was fuming with anger. Not only I had to write stupid horoscopes for the paper and endure Steve's sexist remarks on a day-to-day basis, I frequently got to see Max's arrogant face as well, because we had a class together. I hated his smug smile. He was a jerk and he rubbed it in every time I saw him.
"Hey horoscope girl," he winked at me one time before class. "What's gonna happen to me tomorrow?"
God, I wanted to punch him.
Then, towards the end of the class, our teacher gave us a group assignment. We were to write a paper in pairs about the effects of alcohol on decision-making. I was already running names in my head who should I pick when my teacher announced that the pairs will be chosen by him. And guess who I got paired up with. Fucking Max. I thought I was gonna lose it.
I approached Professor Westbrook after class and told him to pair me with someone else, 'cause I just couldn't work with that asshole.
"I paired you up on purpose," he said.
"I don't understand," I replied.
"Part of the aim of this class is to prepare you for the real world in which you can't always choose the people you have to work with."
"Yes, but--"
"No buts," he said. "You need to learn how to put personal differences aside when working in a group, because in all likeliness, you will eventually experience an unpleasant work environment in real life. It's better to learn how to deal with those types of situations while still in school, don't you agree?"
I sort of did, but that didn't make the situation any less uncomfortable. I hated the idea of having to work with the guy I despised the most. I was pretty sure he would not only tease me for my article the whole time, but that he'd be no help to get a good grade on the paper either. I was pretty mad, but somehow I managed to suck it up.
So I arranged a date with Max. He suggested we should meet at his place. I was reluctant at first, but Craig managed to convince me. See, Max's place was like a fortress. He lived in a fraternity where he was surrounded by his closest allies. Nobody knew the place from the inside. They actually had a second building for parties and open events. Craig suspected that the secrecy meant they had something to hide. He even bought me a spy pen so I could secretly take photos if I found anything incriminating.
I was more concerned about the essay, though, since I knew I would end up doing all the work anyway. So I hit the library to collect every book and study ever published on the effects of alcohol. I didn't care about Max, I was gonna get A+ no matter what. And if I happened to bump into something I could use as evidence to bring him down in the process, I would have my pen with me.
So with a huge stack of books in my hand, I rang the bell at his fraternity on a Saturday morning. It was a particularly warm spring day, so I wore a light summer dress that was breezy enough to keep me from passing out, but moderate enough that Max wouldn't stare at my body the whole time I was there. After a few seconds of waiting at the entrance, a geeky-looking kid opened the door.
The guy—freshman from his looks—scanned me with his eyes from top to bottom, before finally making an eye contact. He had barely any muscles on him and his face was covered in pimples. He didn't look like a member of the most influential fraternity on campus. He looked like someone's little brother. Except he was really creepy.
"You Ashley?" he asked.
"Umm, yeah," I answered.
"Max is waiting for you upstairs," he said as he let me in.
As I followed his directions to Max's room, I was pretty sure he was checking my ass out while I was heading up the stairs. That place was already giving me the creeps. From outside, it looked just like a regular building. From the inside, it looked like the Playboy Mansion, except there was no one around, save for the creepy kid who let me in.
I finally arrived to Max's door and I knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door. He was in his boxers with a Hugh Hefner-like bathrobe on top, except it was open so his bare chest was completely visible. I couldn't believe it. I came here to study and this freaking guy was in his pajamas. And of course, he greeted me with his typical smug smile. I was already mad at him.
"What's with all the books, buttercup?" he asked.
"Unlike you, I'm here to study."
That was the wittiest answer I could come up with on the spot. I let myself in and put the books down on his desk.
"Did you? Or you came here to bust my balls?" he winked.
"From what I heard, you don't have balls."
I found Max's nude upper body terribly distracting. He wasn't overly muscular, but he had fairly nice abs with the faint outlines of a six pack. Like someone who was too lazy to hit the gym, but sporty enough to maintain a fit body. He had the slightest layer of hair coating his chest, just enough to make him look less boyish. But the fact that he looked sort of good just made him more repulsive in my eyes.
"Anyway," he smiled. "It's not like I haven't prepared."
He went to a shelf, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and winked at me. I knew he wasn't gonna be much help writing the essay, but this was even more revolting. Since we needed to write about the effects of alcohol on decision-making, this idiot thought we should just start drinking. He was getting on my nerves pretty quickly.
"Do you think this is a fucking joke?" I raised my voice in frustration.
"What? It's an expensive whiskey."
"I'm not gonna drink with you. We're supposed to write a scientific essay, not a booze report."
I know. Shitty pun. But I was still proud of that one.
"Oh yeah. Those books you brought," he looked at the pile. "Well, what do you think they base their claims on? I'll give you a hint: actual experiments."
He went to a cupboard, collected two whiskey glasses and placed them on his desk next to the books.
"For you, everything's about partying, right?" I asked.
"You know, I read your article about me," he said, still with a smug smile as he started pouring whiskey into the glasses.
"Oh did you?" I asked as sarcastically as I could sound while also rolling my eyes. "And I thought Tasha just happened to fire herself without a reason. Silly me I guess."
He didn't lose his temper, no matter how insulting I tried to sound. Instead he grabbed one of the glasses and started sipping his whiskey.
"Well, I'm just saying," he said. "Don't be so surprised you were demoted to the fairy tale section. Your little exposé piece was just as fictitious as daily horoscopes."
I wanted so badly to slap that arrogant smile off his face. I hated everything about this guy. I hated his stupid auburn hair, his deep blue eyes that glowed from smugness, but mainly those lips with that constant cynical smirk that you just couldn't wipe off no matter what you said to him.
"So you're gonna start screaming 'fake news' now?" I replied. "That's original."
I was actually proud of that insult, but he just chuckled and kept calmly sipping his whiskey.
"That's what you do though," he smiled. "Instead of actually trying to gather evidence to support your claims, you use untrustworthy secondary sources to fabricate lies about whatever you believe in. Just like you want to write a paper on the effects of alcohol without taking a single sip to actually see if any of what you write makes sense. I'm sorry to break it to you, but rehashing other people's work is not science."
I started to lose my cool. Now he was criticizing my journalistic abilities. I couldn't take that silently.
"You just wanted to silence me, 'cause you're a corrupt prick!" I screamed.
"Tell me," he said. "How come you never once came to ask me directly about the things you accuse me of?"
Keeping the glass in his left hand, Max put his right hand on his hips, opening up his bathrobe even further. This was when I noticed a bulge sticking out from the right side of his boxers. Nothing too big to suggest an erection, but big enough to suggest a penis, and the unwanted thought of this asshole's cock made me want to puke.
"Why would I waste my time on you if you'd deny everything anyway?"
"Because that's what journalism is about, sweetheart," he replied. "But you wrote a one-sided slam piece instead. That's not journalism. That's YouTube's comment section."
I was fuming with anger at this point. I wanted to hit him and claw his eyes out. Then I spotted the glass of whiskey he poured me. I had no intention to drink it before, but now I needed something to keep me from exploding, so I grabbed the glass and downed it in one gulp. I drank it so fast that I didn't feel the alcohol, only the aftertaste. He didn't lie. It did taste like an expensive whiskey. But he probably paid for it with the money he stole from the school.
"That's not what Tasha thought of the article," I replied after finally managing to calm myself down.
"Yeah, I know," he smiled. "We used to date. Ever since we broke up, she wanted to ruin me. It's nothing more than personal vendetta, because she couldn't accept the fact that I dumped her."
"You're lying."
With an even bigger smirk on his face, he poured another round of booze for the both of us.
"What, you thought she actually cared for the truth?" he laughed. "She was just glad to read nasty things about me. By the way. Your boyfriend has his own agenda, too. You know that, right?"
This is where I lost it. I was fine when he was badmouthing me. But now he brought Craig into this. The most honorable guy I knew. I never felt so mad my entire life. I downed the second glass of whiskey to cool down.
"No, he doesn't."
"Oh, sure he does. He wants a new fraternity building. Didn't he tell you?"
Craig shared everything with me. He never talked about a fraternity building.
"What the fuck are you even talking about?!"
Max took a sip of whiskey as he prepared for a speech.
"He asked for a new building for his law student buddies. The student government voted on it and it passed, but I vetoed it, because it was economically unwise to invest in a new building when the old one was renovated in 2009. So he got pissed and decided to run against me, but since he stands no chance, he came up with this smear campaign that you were so glad to promote."
I was sure Max was just spewing bullshit at this point, because you have to be a pretty good liar to get reelected for 6 consecutive terms despite being a piece of shit. Still, my judgement was quickly getting clouded, and I didn't know how to respond.
"That's just not true."
"Never mind," he smiled. "You'll grow up eventually and notice that everyone has an agenda."
I was at my breaking point. Max's arrogance was so degrading I felt completely humiliated. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey, poured a third glass to myself and downed it in an instant.
"You're even a bigger piece of shit than I thought, you know," I said as I smiled faintly with an expression of anguish.
"I often get that from girls," he winked, showing still no signs of frustration despite the insults I threw his way.
This was the point when I started to feel dizzy. The alcohol was getting into my head and so was Max. I started pondering about the stuff he said. What if it was true? I knew Max wasn't innocent, but what if Craig lied to me about his goal to end corruption and he just wanted a piece of the pie as well? I knew Craig. I knew he would never do that. But still. That "what if" bothered me beyond belief.
I sat down on the edge of Max's bed, because my lightheadedness was beginning to make standing hard.
"Another one?" Max asked as he grabbed the bottle.
I began feeling really tipsy. I should have just stopped at that point, but the whiskey was making me way too overconfident in my ability to handle alcohol and I thought one more couldn't hurt. At least it would keep my mind off of the stuff Max said about Craig, I reasoned.
So I nodded and collected my empty glass, while Max approached me with the bottle. You could tell the liquor was getting to him, too, because he couldn't walk a straight line as he came over from the desk. Then, when he started pouring me whiskey, he couldn't hold the bottle straight and managed to spill half the liquid on me instead.
"Fuck!" I shouted as I jumped up.
I looked down to see the whole front side of my summer dress covered in booze. This did it. This fucking asshole not only ruined my mood, but now he managed to ruin my clothes as well.
"Shit, I'm sorry," he said as he put the bottle down. "Let me get a towel."
"It's all over my dress!" I whined. "How am I gonna get home this way?!"
I was stomping in anger trying to wipe my dress with my hands, but it was completely soaked. Max then returned with a towel in his hand.
"Relax. I'm gonna mop it up. It'll dry in no time," he said.
Before I could object, he started aggressively wiping my chest unwittingly rubbing my tits with the piece of cloth in the midst of clean up. After a few seconds of unwanted contact I angrily pushed him away, took the towel from him and began wiping myself instead.
"I'm gonna smell like a fucking alcoholic because of you," I complained.
"I'll fix it," he replied as he took the towel from me and threw it away. "Just give me your clothes."
"What?"
"I'm gonna wash it. It's gonna be nice and clean before we finish the essay, I promise."
I only had bra and panties underneath the dress, so I didn't want to take it off, but his proposition got me so off-guard that I didn't know how to respond.
"It's fine," I tried to object. "I don't—"
Before I could finish my sentence, he approached me from behind, unzipped my dress and started pulling it down. Somehow—which I like to contribute to the level of my intoxication—instead of making an effort to stop him I just covered the front with my hands as he slipped me out of my wet clothes.
"I'll be back in a minute," he said and left to the bathroom with my dress without taking a peek at me.
I couldn't believe what just happened. In a matter of a few seconds I was stripped from my clothes and now I was standing in the middle of Max's room in my lingerie. I felt naked and vulnerable. I crossed my arms to cover my chest and closed my legs as tight as I could while I looked around the room to see if I spot a long shirt that I can borrow or something. But I didn't see any clothes lying around.
Since Max was still away, I went to one of his drawers and opened it in the hopes of finding some clothes. Instead I found all sorts of folders and envelopes. I almost closed the drawer to keep looking for something to put on when it popped into my mind that maybe these were the incriminating documents Craig wanted me to find. My curiosity suddenly overruled my embarrassment and I started scanning through the folders. Most of those, however, were administrative gibberish I didn't understand so I couldn't tell if they were actual evidences of corruption.
I was just about to give up, when I spotted a folder that was titled "Sigma Psi Pi housing project". That was Craig's fraternity. I opened the folder and began flipping through the documents. There were plans of the new building, estimated costs, and a 2016 status report on the old building which concluded that it was in good shape. I couldn't believe my eyes. Not only I didn't find anything incriminating, but it looked like Max was telling the truth. He actually did a research into Craig's proposed fraternity building which determined that it would be a bad investment.
I was shocked and confused. Could have Craig lied to me? Then again, those files might as well been tampered with. For Max to funnel loads of the school's money into his own pockets, he needed to falsify all sorts of documents and reports. He very well could have paid someone off to determine that the old building was in great condition as well.
As I was there, hunched over those papers not knowing what to think, I suddenly heard the door opening. Frightened, I threw back the folder into the drawer, shut it, and straightened up while trying to act unsuspicious. Max was in the doorway, looking straight at me.
"Wow," he said and closed the door behind him.
I was so embarrassed thinking that I was caught red-handed snooping around in his stuff that I didn't even realized I was standing in front of him in just a bra and panties.
"I just—" I mumbled.
"Are they real?" he asked.
"What?"
I realized Max wasn't looking at me. He was staring at my boobs. As the realization dawned in, I covered my chest with my arms.
"They can't be," he said.
"Of course they are. Stop staring at them!"
Max was practically eyefucking me and I felt more uncomfortable than ever. I reasoned a bathing suit showed just as much skin, so it wasn't the end of the world that he got to see me in my bra. It wasn't see-through or anything, just plain, black lace bra: sexy, but simple. Still, I felt bare, and not only he was ogling me, but he dared to suggest that I had fake tits. Somehow this bothered me even more than his a lustful gaze.
"I don't believe you," he said. "With that skinny body, they must be fake. How big are those?"
"32E. And they are very much real."
While I tried to argue with him about the authenticity of my breasts, I unconsciously let down my arms giving his eyes easy access to my bra.
He shook his head, "I don't believe you. Prove it."
"What?"
"Prove me they're real."
"How do you suppose I do that?" I asked.
"Show them to me."
Max was out of his mind. Now he wanted me to undress. There was no way I was gonna obey.
"I'm not showing you my boobs!"
"Why? Have something to hide? A scar from the operation, maybe?"
He pulled out that smug smile of his once again. I wanted to strangle him.
"No!" I shouted. "But I have a boyfriend, who sure as hell wouldn't be happy about me showing my boobs to random guys. Let alone you, you piece of shit."
"You show them to your gynecologist, right?"
"So?"
"And your boyfriend is okay with that?"
"Of course."
"Well, then," he smirked. "What's the difference?"
"You're not my gynecologist."
"Now you're just making up excuses. How much did you pay for those?"
This was the point when I had enough. Max was ridiculing me ever since I set foot in his room and I just couldn't take any more insults. He insulted my journalistic skills, he insulted my boyfriend and now he was talking shit about my tits. I loved my body, but out of all things, I was most proud of my breasts. To suggest they were fake really hurt my pride. So the next second I just unhooked my bra and took it off putting my naked breasts on display.
As soon as my round tits popped out of their cover and my bra hit the floor, I immediately regretted the decision. I was standing half-naked in Max's room, showing him my boobs. The guy I set out to destroy, the guy my boyfriend was completing against in the student elections, he was now lustfully staring at my bare chest, savoring every second of the sight of my full breasts and pink nipples.
"Holy shit," he said.
"Satisfied?" I asked.
I swiftly covered my nipples with my hands, denying him more than a quick look. As soon as my palms touched my boobs, however, I noticed that my nipples were rock hard. It wasn't from the cold. My body actually found it arousing to be looked at. I felt betrayed by my own anatomy.
"Well, I couldn't see any scars," Max smiled. "The surgeons sure did a good job."
He was still making jokes about my tits. I wanted to hit him, but for that I would've needed to remove my hands from my chest.
"Very funny."
"But I can't really tell from those few seconds."
Of course he wanted more. Women were his sport. I had a hunch that he stayed in college mainly not for the money, but for the fresh young pussy he got to score on a daily basis. But I wasn't gonna be hung on his trophy wall.
"I already showed you more than I should," I said.
"Come on, Ash."
This was the first time he called me on my real name instead of some degrading nickname. I don't know why, but I got goosebumps all over my back. I also realized he wasn't gonna let this one go until I proved him that my tits were real. And since he had already seen them, giving him a few more seconds wouldn't matter anyway.
"You get ten seconds then we're done, got it?"
He nodded and I reluctantly let my hands down. He couldn't take his eyes off my plump breasts. As his hands came to rest on his hips parting the bathrobe, I noticed the bulge in his boxers once again and I could swear that it got bigger, but I couldn't really tell.
"Well," he said, taking his time inspecting my breasts, "From this angle at least, they look real. I'm gonna need you to lie down on the bed now."
"What? Why?"
"So I can see them in a horizontal position," he explained. "You know, real breasts tend to flatten when a girl's on her back."
"You're an expert, aren't you?" I replied sarcastically.
"I've seen a few of them, yes," he smiled.
I shook my head in disbelief that I was participating in this as I climbed onto the bed and lay down on my back. He approached me and took a good look at my breasts from up-close. It felt really uncomfortable. Moreover, the alcohol was making my head spin. My breasts on the other hand stood proud and firm, even as I lay on my back. This is why I was so proud of them. They were not only big, but it seemed like gravity had no effect on them at all. They were really gifts of nature.
"Okay, so they sort of pass the eye test," he finally broke silence.
"Thank you."
I have no idea why was I thanking him, but him acknowledging that my breasts looked real, made me feel good about them.
"But I'm still not convinced."
"Come on!" I shouted in frustration.
"No. You see," he explained, "With that size, your breasts should be saggier. No way, they would hold up so nicely without implants. I'm gonna need to touch them to make sure."
"N-- no!" I quickly sat up and covered my boobs before he could touch them. "This was already too much. You're not touching my boobs."
"What are you afraid of?" he smiled. "That I will feel the implants?"
"I told you they were real!"
"Well then, let me touch 'em."
On any normal day, I could have told that Max was just trying to manipulate me so he could feel up my tits. But the alcohol was overruling my common sense. I was becoming so tipsy, his emotional manipulation screwed up my logic. I wanted to prove him that my big beautiful breasts were real. I wanted him to be wrong about something for once. I slowly let down my hands, releasing my boobs.
"Fine," I said. "But just a quick squeeze."
"Let me take this off first," Max removed his bathrobe and sat down on the bed next to me.
I was already regretting giving him the green light to have his hands all over my breasts, but his now fully visible upper body completely derailed my thoughts from what was about to happen. See, Craig was a handsome guy, but with all the studying for a law degree, he didn't really have time to work out. He wasn't fat or anything, but the early signs of a beer belly were there. Max's body on the other hand was like a sculpture, the perfect borderline between thin and muscular.
Then my eyes wandered lower to his boxers and the noticeable bulge that signaled a penis. His penis. I couldn't believe I was staring at it, but it was like the whiskey got rid of all my shame and only curiosity remained. I caught myself trying to guess his size, when he suddenly started extending his arms towards my chest.
The next second I felt his rough hands make contact with my soft skin as he gently placed his palms on my silky breasts. He started tenderly stroking my flesh while brushing over my stiffened nipples. Each brush sent a tingly wave of pleasure through my body. I couldn't believe I was enjoying this.
I looked down at his boxers and saw his bulge move and beginning to grow. Max was getting an erection. Thinking of his hard penis made me feel repulsed and turned on at the same time. I felt violated, because he was getting off on me, but at the same time I felt aroused, because it was me giving him the hard-on. I couldn't take my eyes off the outlines of his cock.
While I was staring at his bulge, Max slowly transitioned from the gentle strokes to forceful groping as he began to dig his fingers into my flesh deeper and deeper, caressing my swelling tits with his hands.
"Mmmph," I let out a muffled moan.
I realized I was beginning to enjoy the deep tissue massage a little too much and I knew I had to stop it, because Max didn't intend to. I looked up at him. His pupils were dilated and his deep blue eyes were glowing like he was possessed. I grabbed his hands and pulled them off my chest.
"I think that's enough to make a judgement," I said.
He shook his head, "Eh, I don't know. They are pretty realistic, I gotta admit. Nice and soft. Can't feel anything unnatural in there. Still."
"No still," I replied. "Just admit that you were wrong."
"Nah," he said. "I need to do further tests. Unlike you, I just don't like making rushed judgements based on weak evidence."
Again with the insults. I just hated this guy.
"What further tests?"
He stood up, went to a drawer, grabbed some sort of lube and approached the bed.
"I'll just put a little of lube on them, just so I can massage them deeper."
"No way," I tried to object, but he didn't waste a second, and the next moment I felt a cold liquid poured all over my chest. "Ahhhh—"
I shrieked from the cold, but Max swiftly placed his warm hands on my boobs and after a few strokes the freezing cold disappeared. The discomfort quickly turned into a pleasant sensation as the lube was making his hands glide softly through my skin. The way his palms slid across my slippery nipples, waves of pleasure ran through my body and I shivered. I tried my best to conceal my moans, because I didn't want him to see that I was enjoying it, but my breaths getting shorter were a dead giveaway.
He sensed that I was trying to suppress my arousal and started playing with my nipples. I panted before letting out soft moans. My high pitched voice of pleasure then encouraged him to dig his fingers deeper into my tissue. A louder moan left my mouth as I could no longer hold it in.
He began massaging my swelling breasts with even bigger intensity, firmly yet smoothly rubbing my lubricated flesh. I could tell from the outlines of his penis that he was now fully erect. My best guess was that he was somewhere around 7 or 8 inches. I felt guilty, but in my head I started comparing him to Craig. And Max looked way bigger than my average sized boyfriend.
It felt dirty, but I couldn't stop staring at his bulge. I saw a small spot of wetness beginning to appear on the fabric at the tip of his penis as his pre-cum began soaking through the thin cloth. By this time, I was also becoming wet. I had to stop staring. Since I couldn't look away, I closed my eyes instead.
As I was continuously moaning from pleasure, Max kept relentlessly rubbing my lubricated mounds, making me more and more aroused. After another minute of intense two-handed breasts massage, I suddenly felt his right hand leave my chest. Because it did not return in the next 15 seconds, I opened my eyes out of suspicion.
As my eyelids opened, the first thing I saw was Max's erect penis. Shocked, I sprung up.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" I screamed.
Freed from the tight underwear, his stiff cock was now staring at me.
"Relax," he said, still massaging my breasts with one hand while he got rid of his boxers. "It's not what you think."
I felt violated, but I couldn't stop staring at his hard cock as it wriggled between his legs while he moved. It was a nice, thick, circumcised penis, one that, if seen in porn, would certainly make me my mouth water, but since it belonged to this asshole I couldn't enjoy the sight without feeling sick to my stomach.
"Why the fuck are you naked?!" I shouted.
"Just calm down," he said as he placed both of his hands on my tits. "Your breasts, they are wonderful, but I still need to try something out. You see, the head of the penis is one of the most sensitive parts of the male body."
"No, you're not gonna—"
"Ash. Just trust me. I need to feel the texture of your breasts with my penis to be able to tell that they're real."
As he talked, he kept gently massaging my boobs trying to relax me. I knew he was lying, but the alcohol I consumed wanted to convince me that it was alright, that Max had good intentions and he really was just curious about the authenticity of my tits. But I wasn't ready to give in. This has already gone too far. I needed to end it.
"This is... no. It's too weird." I protested. "I have to go home now."
"Ash, look at me," he grabbed my cheek and directed my head so I looked into his beautiful blue eyes. "I'll be quick. We'll be done in a second then we're gonna finish the paper and you can go home. Alright?"
"I can't," I whined.
I wanted to cry. As horny he made me, this was not okay. I had a boyfriend and his biggest enemy was about to rub his cock all over my breasts. Max, however, kept stroking the back of my head, being very patient. Maybe it was the liquor talking, but at the time, it did not seem like he had bad intentions.
"I'm gonna be very gentle," he said. "Just imagine that it's my hand, okay?"
I finally nodded.
He gently pushed me to lie down, climbed on top of me, and with his erect penis facing me he poured some more lube on my chest. It was still cold and it made me shiver, but the next moment he grabbed his cock and slowly directed it towards my breasts. First he just lightly touched my skin with it and as I felt his warm, throbbing dick make contact, I bit my lips trying to hold in a moan. He began gently rubbing his shaft all over my womanly mounds.
As his warm penis brushed over my hard nipples, I felt jolts of pleasure flow through my body. He then sank his cock deep into my tissue and I could feel my heartbeat get quicker trying to keep up with its throbs as more blood rushed through his already rock hard shaft. Finally, he grabbed my hands, placed them on the side of my breasts and ordered me to push them together, creating a tight, penetrable slit between them.
He placed his cock at the underside of my boobs and gently pushed his penis upwards. His shaft glided effortlessly through my lubricated cleavage and I saw the head pop out under my chin before it retreated back to its cave. With an ease similar to a heated knife cutting through butter, he began moving his penis back and forth between my fleshy mounds. I felt getting uncontrollably wet.
I couldn't believe how things had escalated to this point. Max was fucking my tits and I was not only letting him, but assisting him by pressing them together. He began upping the tempo, gliding his erect penis ever so faster through the makeshift pussy. As his cock rubbed up against my slippery flesh, it made a wet, slurping sound, and with each thrust, the head of his penis inched closer to my face.
"You're a good girl," Max said as he reached out with his right hand and began stroking the back of my head.
I nodded, softly moaning. I didn't know why, but those words really got to me. I hated Max, but he was the most powerful man on campus. And now he was complimenting me. For a moment, I felt really important. He could have had anyone, yet he was spending his time with me. Because he was so demeaning to me earlier today, I craved the attention and warmth he was giving me now. I didn't notice, but in the midst of gentle strokes, he began smoothly pushing my head towards his penis.
As I looked down, I realized his cock was now less than an inch away from my lips as it popped out from the slit between my breasts. He began slowing his thrusts and finally pushed his penis far enough that it softly bumped into my puffy lips. I should have pulled my head away then, but I was reluctant. He pulled his penis back instead, only for it to return in a few seconds, slam into my soft lips again, rub up against it then bounce back. He was teasing me and I didn't want to admit to myself, but I wanted his tasty cock.
After rubbing his penis on my lips for a third time, he slid his right hand down from the back of my head to my cheek and began caressing my face. Just as his cock was about to slam into my mouth for a fourth time, he gently parted my lips. Instead of bumping into my puffy lips then, the head of his penis softly pushed into my mouth. He removed my hands from my boobs, opening up my cleavage and freeing his shaft, and crawled closer to be able to slide his cock further into my mouth.
I looked up at him and I was so captivated by his eyes that were gleaming from horniness, I just reluctantly let him push that delicious penis of his into me.
"That's it," he said as he started gliding his penis in and out of my mouth.
There was no way to justify this. This had nothing to do with my breasts. I had Max's penis in my mouth and he was rocking hips back and forth, fucking my face. I couldn't believe he got me to do this.
After several pumps, though, I realized he was no longer moving his hips. Instead it was now me bobbing my head up and down on his stiff cock, while licking its rubbery head with my tongue. I couldn't believe myself. I was sucking on his cock and I liked it. It had a faint taste of cherry from the lube, but I didn't mind. All I wanted was to please that thick penis.
I fell into a rhythm gliding my puffy lips up and down on his shaft, caressing that sweet cock with my tongue. I took in 4 or 5 inches of that thing before my tiny mouth reached its limit, then I just settled there, swallowing half his meat while using my hand to pleasure the rest. I felt his breaths get shorter and I could tell I was doing a good job.
I was so focused on pleasuring him that I didn't even realize what I was doing. Just a couple of weeks ago, I wrote an article about Max wanting to destroy him and now I had my lips wrapped around his cock, too aroused to care. I tried to reason in my head that I was a victim. He got me drunk and manipulated me. He made me defenseless and forced himself onto me. It wasn't my fault. No. He put his gorgeous cock in my face. What was I supposed to do? Not suck it? Jesus, I was pitiful.
Sucking off the jerk who just spread rumors about my tits. But it felt so good. I loved the taste of his cock. Cherry lube and musky sweat. I couldn't get enough of it. I became obsessed. My hand around his shaft, my tongue massaging the head of his penis. I basked in the glory of pleasuring him. I wanted to please him even more. I wanted him to explode in my mouth.
Max grabbed my hair, pulling my head back and forth on his dick as he started thrusting his hips forward.
I opened up my throat, allowing him to push his shaft deep inside my mouth, ramming his cock down my throat. I moaned from the pleasure of being completely dominated. His cock filled my mouth, hitting my gag reflex. Thanks to the whiskey, however, I found it easy to deal with it. I used my tongue to massage his dick while he fucked my face. As he thrusted deeper into my mouth, I serviced him harder, eliciting groans of pleasure from him. I felt empowered and a little sick to my stomach.
I had never taken a man's cock this deep down my throat before, and I had never felt so degraded yet so aroused at the same time.
My boyfriend Craig would never know what I was doing with Max, the man running against him for the position of Student Council President. But at that moment, I didn't care about Craig or our relationship. All I cared about was the feeling of Max's hard cock pulsing in my mouth as he thrust in and out of me.
The alcohol had numbed any feelings of guilt or remorse I might have felt in another state of mind. Instead, I allowed myself to be completely swept up in the pleasure of the moment.
Max groaned as he continued to fuck my face, his hips bucking wildly as he approached his climax. I could feel his cock swelling inside my mouth, and I knew he was about to cum.
But just as I prepared myself for the explosion of pleasure that was about to fill my mouth, Max pulled out, leaving me gasping for air.
I looked up at him in confusion, my lips still parted from his cock.
"I want to cum on your tits," he said, his voice husky with desire.
I didn't have time to protest or react before Max was on top of me, his cock poised above my chest. He began to stroke himself furiously, his eyes glued to my breasts. I couldn't believe what was happening, but I couldn't deny the throbbing ache between my legs. I had never felt so turned on in my life.
Sure, I loved Craig, but there was something about Max's dominance that made me weak in the knees. Before I knew it, Max had erupted all over my tits, painting them with his milky white seed. I looked down at my chest, the sight of his cum dribbling down my curves making me feel even hornier.
Max collapsed on top of me, panting heavily. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his warm body against mine.
"God, Ashley, you're amazing," he breathed, his hands roaming over my body.
I could feel his cock hardening again against my leg, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to feel him inside of me. But I quickly pushed that thought aside. I wasn't that kind of girl. I loved Craig, and I would never cheat on him.
"I should probably get going," I said, reluctantly pulling away from him.
"Already?" he asked, looking disappointed. "But we were just getting started."
"I know, but I have to get back to Craig.
He expects me home soon."
I sat up, putting my bra back on and trying to gather what was left of my composure. The alcohol buzz was wearing off, replaced by a nagging guilt settling in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't just the fact that I cheated on my boyfriend - it was the way Max made me feel, the power he held over me, and the ease with which he manipulated me into submission. It was terrifying.
Max said "you know if this is a one time thing, I would like to return the favor ".
My heart raced and I felt a surge of excitement in my chest. Before I could react, Max leaned in and began to kiss my neck passionately. His lips trailed down my body until they reached my breasts, which he began to massage gently feasting on my sensitive nipples. I let out a gasp of pleasure, feeling my inhibitions slip away. I knew I should stop this before it goes further but the thrill of the forbidden tantalized me
. Max's lips were soft, and his touch was electrifying. He knew exactly how to touch me, making me shiver with delight.
As he continued to explore my body, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of guilt and excitement. I loved Craig, but there was something about Max that made me feel alive. He was dangerous, manipulative and capable of anything. And yet, I couldn't resist his charm.
Max's hands wandered down to the hem of my skirt, slowly pulling it up to reveal my thigh-high stockings.
He ran his fingers along the delicate lace, making me tremble with anticipation. I knew I should stop him, but I couldn't bring myself to push him away. The chemistry between us was electric, and I was powerless to resist him.
As Max continued to touch me, I felt myself becoming lost in the moment. My breathing quickened, and my heart raced as his fingers explored my body. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensations that coursed through me. It felt wrong, but it also felt so right.
I didn't want to betray Craig, but at the same time, I couldn't deny the intense attraction I felt towards Max. He was like a drug, and I was helpless against his allure.
As Max continued to touch me, I could feel my resolve weakening. I wanted him, and I knew that I couldn't resist him any longer. I let out a soft moan, and Max took it as a sign to continue.
He slipped his fingers under my panties, and I gasped as I felt his skilled touch on my most intimate areas.
I was already wet, and his fingers slid easily over my slick folds. I bit my lip to stifle a moan as Max started to tease me, stroking and rubbing me at just the right angle to make my head spin.
Despite the whiskey haze that clouded my judgment, I knew that what I was doing was wrong. I had always been faithful to Craig, and I never imagined that I would cheat on him. But there was something about Max that made me feel alive, something that made me want to throw caution to the wind.
I couldn't explain it, but I couldn't deny it either.
As Max continued to touch me, I felt my body responding in ways I had never experienced before. It was a strange and unfamiliar sensation, and yet it felt so natural. I didn't want it to stop.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I opened my eyes and looked at Max, and I knew that he could see the desire in my eyes.
"Max," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please."
That was all the invitation Max needed.
He pounced on me, his lips claiming mine in a hungry kiss. I melted into him, my resistance crumbling like a sandcastle against the tide.
As we kissed, Max's hands roamed over my body, teasing and tantalizing me. I could feel the heat building between my legs, and I knew that I was on the brink of losing control.
Max said "get on top".
I hesitated for a moment, but the excitement of the forbidden was too much to resist. I straddled him, feeling his hard cock pressed against me. I could feel the heat radiating from him, making my heart race even faster. I looked into his eyes, and I saw a hunger that mirrored my own.
Slowly, I lowered myself onto him, feeling him enter me. I gasped as he filled me up, my body stretching to accommodate him.
It had been a while since I had sex with Craig, and Max's size was intimidating. But the discomfort soon faded, replaced by a rush of pleasure as he began to move inside me.
At first, it was slow and gentle, our bodies moving in sync as we explored each other. But as the minutes ticked by, our movements became more urgent, more frenzied. I couldn't get enough of him, and I could tell that he felt the same way.
The room was filled with the sound of our heavy breathing and the slapping of skin against skin.
I could feel myself getting close, the heat building in my core and radiating outward until every inch of my skin felt like it was on fire.
Max's hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he thrust up into me. His fingers dug into my flesh, leaving red marks that would surely bruise in the morning. But I didn't care. I welcomed the pain, the reminder of what we were doing.
As the pressure built, I could feel myself losing control. My breathing came in short, sharp gasps, and my vision began to blur around the edges.
I felt myself teetering on the brink of an abyss, and I knew that there was no going back. With one final thrust, Max sent me plunging over the edge, and I shattered into a million pieces, my orgasm ripping through me like a tidal wave.
As I came down from my high, I collapsed onto Max, my body slick with sweat and trembling from the force of my release.
Max held me close, murmuring sweet nothings into my ear as my heart rate slowly returned to normal.
His hands roamed over my back, tracing the curve of my spine and sending shivers down my spine. I felt alive, invigorated, and thoroughly satisfied.
But as the afterglow began to fade, the reality of what I had just done started to sink in. I had cheated on Craig, my boyfriend of three years, with Max, the sleazy frat president who had been running against him for student council president.
I pushed myself up, wincing slightly as Max's semen trickled down my chest.
I looked at him, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, and I couldn't believe what had just happened. How did I let myself get carried away like that?
"I-I should go," I stammered, grabbing my clothes and hastily putting them back on. Max groaned, but made no move to stop me.
Max said "wait, but I haven't cum, you can't leave me like this ".
I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should stay and finish what we had started or if I should run out of there as fast as I could. My mind was spinning with guilt, shame and an inexplicable excitement.
Max walked over to me and placed his hands on my hips, pulling me closer to him. His erect penis was still glistening with my saliva and the lube we used earlier to play with my breasts.
Max said "just finish me with your mouth. I promise it'll be quick ".
Max's voice was husky with arousal, and I could see the desire in his eyes. Despite my better judgment, I found myself nodding in agreement. He guided me to kneel in front of him, and I took his still-erect penis in my hand, marveling at its size and hardness.
As my lips encircled the head of his cock, I felt a shudder run through his body. I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the moment.
I wanted to forget about the world outside this room, about Craig and our relationship. I just wanted to focus on the feeling of Max's cock in my mouth, on the way it throbbed and pulsed against my tongue.
I took him deeper into my throat, feeling him hit the back of my throat. I swallowed around him, feeling him twitch in response. I could feel his balls tighten in my hand, and I knew he was getting close.
Max let out a low groan, his fingers tangling in my hair as he guided me back and forth on his cock.
I could feel him growing harder and thicker in my mouth, and I knew he was close. He thrust his hips forward, burying his cock deep in my throat. I could feel him pulsing and swelling against my tongue, and I knew he was about to cum.
I pulled back, letting his cock slide out of my mouth with a wet, sloppy sound. I looked up at him, my eyes wide and pleading.
"Please, Max," I begged.
"I can't."
Max gasped, panting heavily. "Not here. Not like this."
I looked up at him in confusion, my lips still wrapped around his cock. I didn't understand what he meant. Why couldn't he cum in my mouth?
Wasn't that what he wanted? I was confused, but I didn't have time to ask questions. Max was already pulling out of my mouth, and stroking his dick pointing it at my face.
I opened my eyes and looked at it: a column of pulsing meat, spewing hot jizz directly onto my face. Ropes of cum splattered onto my nose, forehead and chin, before dripping down onto my tits. Max grunted as streams of cum shot out of his dick, and I could feel the hot liquid sliding down my neck, pooling in my cleavage.
"Fuck," Max groaned, gripping his cock and giving it a few final jerks before it softened.
I sat there motionless, covered in a layer of sticky cum.
I couldn't believe what had just happened. I had been used, humiliated, and degraded by Max. And yet, even as the guilt started to set in, I couldn't deny the arousal coursing through my veins.
Max looked down at me with a satisfied smirk. "I knew you'd love it," he said, giving my cum-soaked face a playful slap. I could feel my cheeks burning with anger and humiliation. I couldn't believe I had let him do this to me.
I was covered in Max's cum from head to toe, my mascara running down my face in black streaks, my hair matted with sweat and semen. I looked up at him, feeling a surge of anger and disgust.
Max took a picture of the sight.
Ashley's face covered in his semen, her eyes red from crying, her makeup smeared down her cheeks in black trails. "Now that's a sight I could jerk off to later," he said, stroking her cheek with his thumb before wiping the cum off her face with it and sucking it clean.
Ashley's heart pounded in her chest as she watched him, a mix of disgust and arousal coursing through her veins. She had never felt so objectified, so used, so utterly humiliated in her life.
And yet, as much as she wanted to hate him for it, she couldn't deny the arousal that pulsed through her veins. She had never felt so turned on in her life, and she couldn't quite understand why.
Max's handsome face was smirking down at her, and she could see the satisfaction in his eyes. He knew exactly what he had done to her, and he reveled in it.
Ashley couldn't believe it. She had just let Max, a man she barely knew, fuck her raw and film it all for his own twisted pleasure. And now, he was getting off on her humiliation, on the fact that she was so turned on by his touch even after all that had happened.
"Get out," Ashley choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn't bear to look at him any longer, the combination of guilt and desire making her feel sick to her stomach.
Max chuckled, his voice dripping with arrogance "not until I cum in your mouth ".
He grabbed my hair, pulling my head closer to his cock, and thrust deep into my throat. I gagged, tears streaming down my face as he used my mouth like a fuck toy. With each forceful thrust, he grunted, "take it, you little slut. Take it all. You know you want it."
I tried to push him away, but he was too strong. His grip on my hair tightened, and he held me in place as he face-fucked me mercilessly.
Ashley couldn't believe it, max had cum three times, and still wanted a blowjob.
She couldn't understand how he could still be hard, but she could feel it, pressing into her cheek as he yanked her hair back roughly.
Max spat on her tits, and then rubbed his cock between them, leaving a trail of precum behind. He groaned, closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he twisted her nipples hard with his free hand.
Ashley winced at the pain, but couldn't deny that she was getting more turned on with every second that passed.
The feeling of max's cock in her mouth, the taste of his pre-cum mingling with the metallic tang of her own blood, it was all so taboo yet utterly exhilarating. She felt like a slut, a filthy little slut who would do anything to please her man.
Chapter excerpt truncated at the edge.