Frat Party MILF Ch. 02

Story Info
A Mom returns to the scene of the party
4.4k words
4.52
82.6k
104

Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 02/20/2018
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
hamgod
hamgod
497 Followers

Pain. So much pain. I woke up, eyes barely able to crack open, and all I could feel was pain. My head was on fire, submerged in ice, expanding to huge size, and being crushed in a vice. My stomach turned, making noises I had never heard before. It felt like I had been eating hot sand last night, the way my throat crackled as I breathed. When I had reminisced college I never thought about the hangovers. Or the shame. Oh god, the shame. What had I done last night? The beer pong game flashed through my mind: the lap dance, Bret, his bulge, the vibrator that had driven me wild all night, sucking a dildo in front of a crowd of frat boys, stripping nude, smoking weed, being spanked so hard and so well I had practically came, Bret's bulge pushing into my gut, having an ice cube put in my pussy, making out with that spunky little blonde, her sucking my tits, getting my head written on, and then getting finger fucked better than I ever had till I passed out. All by that frat boy douche bag. What an idiot I was. Why was I getting wet when I thought about him? Well, he had made me cum harder than I ever had, and so many times in a row. I was usually one and done. As long as those pictures didn't leak beyond anyone in that room I would be fine. Oh fuck. Pictures. And Videos. Why was I so stupid? Why was I awake? What was that noise? Oh, my phone. I picked it up, making out the name Eliza through my plastered eyes. Fuck. I was supposed to be at her dorm in five minutes. Not only was I not ready, I had the words DIK SLUT written on my head in permanent marker. Groaning and cursing myself, I answered.

"Mom," Eliza's voice was worried. My stomach sank. Had the pictures gotten out? What was a matter. "I know we were supposed to go to Target together, but Kelly, my roommate, showed up and her family wants to take me to brunch. Then they were going to go to Target. Kelly invited me to her club meeting tonight. Is it ok if I go? Do you want to come?" Relief, flooded over me. She was worried about me being mad at her, unaware if what I had done.

"No honey, that's fine. I was going to have to be on conference calls all day anyway. Work never stops," I said. If only. I had been left out of more and more at work. I needed to find a new job. But that was a problem for a different time.

"Mom, are you ok? You sound, um..., weird." Eliza seemed a little confused.

"Yeah honey, I just didn't sleep that well last night," I lied. "I think I'm getting a cold. I'll see you whenever you're free. Just text me. I love you."

"Thanks Mom! Love you too," she said, hanging up. A little socially awkward, but a very sweet girl. How lucky I was that I didn't have the type of daughter that got stripped and fingered in the middle of a frat party. I sat up, head still wringing. I tried to stand, collapsing back down. My legs were jelly. My vagina was sore, still, from just getting fingered. At least I thought it was only fingers. I couldn't remember getting home. I put a finger down, probing my lips. No semen or evidence of anything more of fingers. They weren't that bad, at least. I breathed a sigh relief and tried to stand again.

Shaky, I managed to keep my feet this time. Coffee first, I thought, stumbling towards the kitchen. Reaching the room, I managed to measure out the grounds, add water, and hit brew. I leaned against the counter, taking deep breaths. I felt the cool ceramic of the sink on my skin. It felt good, cooling. Wait...my skin. I looked down and realized I was nude. My clothes must still be at the frat house. I cursed myself again, pouring myself a cup of coffee. Gagging slightly and stomach turning, I managed to get it down. My head felt a little better, and I stumbled to the shower.

The hot water felt great, and the ache in my muscles started to die away. I let the water try to wash me clean. It worked slowly, on my body, as I scrubbed my forehead free of words. My skin got red, raw, as I worked out the entrenched ink. Unfortunately, it did not work on my conscience, which still burned. Jeff, my sweet and innocent husband, was blaring in my mind. He had once apologized to me for staring to long during a topless scene in movie we were watching, he would have never done that to me. I sighed deeply, chest heavy with guilt. Although he did go to a strip club when we were dating. It was for someone else's bachelor party and before we were married, but he had gotten a lap dance. And it had made him cum in his pants. Was that same? Not really, I knew deep down. But sort of, I told myself. Taking a deep breath, I realized what's done was done. There was no way to undo it. How was I going to tell him? I thought about his face, what it would look like as I described getting finger fucked by a kid half his age and cumming harder than he had ever made me. Telling him would hurt him more than anything else I could do, I realized. He would never find out. He worked alone, and didn't use the internet, so even if the pictures leaked I'd be fine. I would keep this a secret. All I had to do was never go back to the frat house, that way it couldn't get worse. As resolved as I was to not hurt my husband and to be a good wife, I had felt under Bret's control all of last night, and I didn't trust myself to be good if I went back, so I needed to steer clear.

I quickly realized that wouldn't be possible. My clothes were still there. And I needed the shorts. They had been a gift from Jeff, and a very thoughtful one. He had noticed me fidgeting with my sleep shorts, always trying to get them to a more comfortable spot and always failing. Then one day I had come home to find a new, much more comfortable, pair on my pillow. I had displayed my appreciation orally, something I rarely did for him. He would definitely notice if they were missing.

Again, I cursed myself. I had been doing way more often these last 12 hours. I shut the shower off, stepping out and drying off. I grabbed my bathrobe, throwing it around me. My head was still killing me, but I could somewhat manage now. My wet hair was helping, keeping it cool. I stumbled out of the house, down the block and knocked on the door of DIK. No answer. I waited a minute, then two. I knocked again, and again waited. The air was cold, cutting through the bathrobe. Finally, the door opened.

Bret answered, and I couldn't stop myself from being excited. He stood there, leaned up against the door frame in pair of basketball shorts, his muscular chest and six pack on display. He looked me up and down, focusing particularly on my cleavage, smirked, then shut the door. I instantly pounded on the door again, enraged. He opened the door.

"Keep it down, you dumb slut. People are sleeping," He barked, starting to shut the door again. I put my hand in frame to stop him, and thankfully he relented just before slamming my fingers into the frame.

"Please, I won't be a bother. It's just I need...um," I found it hard to admit what had happened, why I was there.

"Yeah I know why your here. Happens all the time. Sluts like you are a dime a dozen. Though, they're usually not so... well, they're younger," He smirked, watching my face go from pale to tomato. Was I not attractive to him? "The thing is though....Last night's game was binding, permanent. You were stripped, so you need to stay stripped. I don't want to see you with clothes on, what's the point of that. I can't let you in like this. Now move your hand." He rapped my fingers and I let go, the door slamming closed.

Now I was stuck. Could I explain not having the shorts? No, Jeff would be suspicious. Besides, Bret had already seen everything. I looked around the block. 7 A.M. on a college campus. It was totally abandoned. I slipped the robe off my shoulders, letting it pool at my feet. Now I was nude, for the second time in two days I was nude in a public setting. The morning breeze shivered through me, turning my nipples rock hard I knocked again. No answer. I waited patiently, hopping from foot to foot. I knocked again, nothing. A car turned around the corner. I hugged up to the door, hoping to stay out of sight, pounding at the door. Bret opened this time, wearing the same smirk.

"Can I help you?" he asked slowly, drawing his words out.

"Let me in, let me in! Someone could see!" I squealed. My heart was pounding. I had, just the night before, been totally naked in room full of strangers, and made to orgasm repeatedly, but now more than ever my embarrassment was soaring. In the light of day, and fully sober, there was no hiding anything.

"See what?" he smirked, relishing my torment.

"You know what...let me in," I fumed. The car passed, honking twice.

"Spin around. I need make sure you're totally nude." I turned, blushing. The car was stopped, riders staring.

"Bend at the waist." I knew better than to complain. That would just elongate this. I bent to the waist. He gave my ass a spank, then traced my pussy with a finger. I couldn't believe this was happening again.

"Let me make sure you're not hiding any clothes on you," he whispered, slamming his finger into me with cruel twist. It slid in easily, and I realized that once again my pussy was soaked for him. I was such a whore. I bit my lip, trembling as he added a second finger and started pistoning. My back arched, pushing my ass back at him. His thumb pressed down, putting pressure on my rosebud. He couldn't be, not already, I thought. I had never had anything in there. He stopped, thankfully, but kept it applying pressure. As his inner fingers curled, beckoning me to him, telling me to come to him. His outer fingers, squeezed and released, sliding thru the wet folds of my labia.

"Oh fuck," I gasped. He just chuckled, slapping my quivering ass. I moaned again, pushing it up for him. My hips raising pushed the tip of his thumb into my asshole. The virgin hole squeezed tight around his big thumb. He spanked again, shaking my ass cheeks with force of his blow.

"A little anal slut, aren't you?" He mocked, rotating his thumb slightly. I gasped, the twist shocking me, and shook my head. "Oh, not yet, you're a good girl, aren't you? Or you used to be. But now here you are, stripped nude with a thumb up your ass, about to cum on a stranger's porch in front of a captive audience." I snapped my head up. The car had its windows rolled down, and the driver was leaning out filming the whole thing, his passenger just staring. He let out loud whoops of approval. If it were possible for me to have gotten more flushed I would have, but instead I just moaned. Suddenly Bret's fingers pulled back, except his thumb. His other hand whipped around grabbing my hanging tits. He crushed them, both at once fitting and squishing in his huge paw, before grabbing my nipple with a violent twist. He pulled on them, almost milking me like I was a cow, bringing his other hand forward to join. He reached back, peppering my ass with slaps. I pushed back, grinding my aching ass against his crotch as he abused my ass and tits on a public street. I could feel his bulge again, and again it was monolithic. I rubbed myself on it, dragging my naked wet pussy up and down.

"You want to come," He hissed in my ear, leaning over, twisting both nipples opposite directions. I nodded so rapidly, it cut him off. He just chuckled, twisting harder. "I was going to say come inside. I think I've given you enough free orgasms. Now, understand I only invite a slut who's already showed me everything into my home if I know she's gonna make me cum. Is that something I know about you?" I nodded, not thinking. Why would I promise that! He stood, keeping his hands' grip tight on my nipples. Pain burned through me, but it felt good. Did I just agree to make him cum? He tugged, cutting of any thoughts. He was using my nipples as a leash, and I had no choice but to spin around to walk after him. He waved at our viewers as he lead me into the house, giving a last view of my pussy dripping between my legs as I straightened.

"You've got great tits for an old bitch," He said, his voice now kind, even if the words weren't. "Let me guess, 32 DD? Not bad for someone so short." I blushed, nodding. He guessed, or more likely assessed, correctly. I could tell he had seen and felt many pairs of tits. His tugs were not cruel all of sudden. He raised his other hand, using both hands now to caress my breasts. His touches had gentled, but his hands still were still firm. He squeezed, working my heavy breast easily. His massaging relaxed me.

"Thank you," I whimpered. Never had I thanked anyone for calling me a bitch before. Never had I thanked someone who had stripped and fingered me in public view twice in two times in twelve hours. He inclined his head down to my slightly, and I felt myself raise up on to my toes, lips pursing. He smirked cruelly, knowing he had won, knowing I was putty in his hands, but leaned in. He kissed like he did everything else; his tongue probing into my mouth forcibly. I kissed back like I had down everything else; my tongue surrendering to it easily. His hand grasped the nape of my neck and I felt a jolt, traveling from his touch down my spine, spreading through my stomach and out through my soaking slit. God, I was wet I realized, feeling the drips accumulate on my pussy lips, thighs slick with fluid.

He dropped onto a recliner, pulling me with him. I fell into a straddling position, my naked lap pressed against his shorts. I was above him now, but I pushed down, mashing my lips into his to give him the same access to my mouth even without the advantage of gravity. He took full advantage, tongue snaking in deep to tame mine down. My hips were rolling, wet and slipping back and forth on his lap. His hands massaged my breasts, kneading the soft flesh vigorously with the rhythm of my gyrations. They squeezed slowly, powerfully, like the contractions I felt in my gut, pulling my tight tunnel tighter as I grinded on him, his bulge building beneath me. It was bigger than I remembered it being, a thick snake of flesh pressed up against the fabric and into my gushing folds.

"Let's not ruined these shorts," He smirked, pulling back momentarily. "You're a fuckin geyser." I felt myself lifted, blushing, his hand holding me up by my tit, as his other pushed his shorts out of the way. He supported my weight effortlessly, like I would hold an empty cup. I looked down. He didn't have underwear on. His cock rested against his stomach, immense. He raised up and his lips were back on mine and I melted into him again. His hands resumed their work on my heaving chest, and we slid easily into the same rhythm. Only now there was no fabric between us, just my naked, vulnerable, and desperate pussy slipping and shivering over his cock. My lips splayed over the underside of his shaft, slowly sliding back and forth, it felt colossal. He bit my bottom lip, tugging at it, before kissing his way down to my neck. He lips were hot, wet and I gasped, head falling back. He sucked at my exposed throat, pulling the flesh into his mouth. I couldn't get a hickey. I grabbed his shoulders, trying to push back, but he was to strong and I wasn't fighting him.

He relented, mercifully. His head continued its path downward, sucking on my ample, heaving breasts. He kissed, and licked until he latched around my nipple. He swirled his tongue, whirling around it as he sucked it in. I pushed my chest towards, him, wrapping my hands around the back of his head. I felt my pussy spread over the underside of his cock head before sliding back down, divided around the base of his shaft. It had slid a long way, and I couldn't help but look down.

My view was obscured, but there was no second guessing it. His cock looked the way it felt, impossibly large, mammoth. I was sitting and wiggling over the base of it, my slick pussy, dancing over at least a couple inches, and still a length of twice my husband's cock extended up, a deep tan shaft as thick as my wrist. The head was like a plum: big, round, and purple. I started to rock hard, back and forth on it, stroking him with the wet folds of my cunt. He leaned back smiling, his hands dropping to hang over the back of the chair as I writhed in his lap.

He reached around giving me a hard spank. I gasped, moaning as my pussy gushed, soaking his shaft. I had never been this wet, this turned on. He enjoyed my wanton display and spanked again. His shaft rocked up, lifting off his six pack. Fuck, he had a six pack. I rubbed my hand on his muscular chest and abs. I bite my lip, as the angle of his cock increased. I rose up it still, dragging my dripping pussy along it, and he obliged my efforts with another sharp spank. I shook with pleasure, hips lifting higher. His obese cocktip nestled into the folds at entry of my pussy. God, it was huge, I realized, twisting on it, soaking it. It had looked huge, but feeling pressed against my pussy was something else entirely. I needed it inside me. I needed to fuck this douchebag frat boy. No I needed him to fuck me. I needed to feel his cock stretch my pussy more than any other cock ever had. I was about to cheat on my husband. I didn't care. He pushed up, and my lips parted, stretching wide. But then he stopped, before he really entered me, his mouth at my ear.

"You got it nice and wet. Now you can use these big fucking udders to get me off," he slapped my tits and parted his legs. I fell with a thump, to ground. He grabbed the base of his cock and slapped it off my face, my slick juices sticking to my cheek. From this angle, it looked even more impressive. I breathed in deep, shuddering at the musk as I stared up admiring it. He smacked me again with a hearty thwack, then released his cock. It thumped down, resting on my face. From my chin, it hung over my forehead. I smelt his scent and mine, mingled on the thick shaft. I couldn't help myself, and licked it.

"Oh god, that's good," I whimpered, in shock. I had never enjoyed the taste of a cock before. His didn't seem to taste all that different, but I felt a need to keep licking it, savoring the taste. I leaned forward, licking again, tracing the veins with my tongue, tasting my juices. He chuckled.

"I said use these," His hands reached under my tits, squeezing them hard. "All sluts have mouths, but not all have fat fucking tits like this." I beamed, realizing he liked my tits. He lifted them up and wrapped them around his gargantuan cock, and started to stroke himself with them. His cock pulsed, and he loosened his grip. I did not let it falter, and grabbed my tits myself and began dragging them up and down.

"Good slut." He patted my head, and I heard the TV click on. I blushed, suddenly embarrassed by my behavior. This was not a love affair for him. I was not a monumental moment in his life. He just wanted some tits wrapped around his cock while he watched ESPN. Would he even remember this next year? I could tell he got laid a lot. Would I stand out at all in the list of girls who had jerked his cock like this? Probably not. I couldn't bring myself to stop though. His hard cock felt so good against the soft flesh of my breasts, and the occasional grunts of pleasure were like catnip. I stood out now. I still dripped, my thighs now soaked. I really was a slut. I should stop, I thought.

"Don't you fucking stop slut," Bret cut off that train of thought with a grunt, his cock swelling. He wasn't indifferent after all. His mind might have been elsewhere, but his cock, his magnificent cock was all for me. His hips were moving now, matching my rhythm. I felt myself grin. I had already gone this far. No point in stopping now. I picked my pace up, and he moaned. He was enjoying himself.

"Ay, yo, beer me," I looked up shocked. More brothers had started to file into the room, flopping down around him. For the third time in two days, less than 12 hours, I was on display as this frat boy used me. I blushed, but Bret paid me no mind, opening his beer. Foam sprayed out, dripping on me.

hamgod
hamgod
497 Followers
12