I made it about half a block before I heard my bodyguards yelling behind me. Or, more accurately, my bodyguard. Singular. Teddybear was screaming bloody murder, but Ghost was as quiet as ever.
Damn it, Ash! How had she only distracted them for like 2 minutes? Had she not even pulled her tits out? I’d have to have a little chat with her about that. But first I had to lose my guards.
Ditching my amazing shoes was not an option. So I did the only rational thing - I ran out into oncoming traffic and put my hand out in the universal “stop” signal.
The driver obeyed, but just barely in time. He laid on his horn as the car skidded to a stop with only a few feet to spare.
“Dude, what the hell?” I said as I shook out my umbrella and climbed into the passenger seat of the car. “You almost hit me.”
He stared at me. He might have said something, but I was too distracted by his handsome face. And his forearms. And that cologne. Most guys on campus smelled like cheap beer, but he smelled like fresh grass and sawdust.
“402 West Main Street, please,” I said.
“What?”
“402 West Main Street. And step on it. I’m in a hurry.” I showed him the map on my phone in case he was deaf or something. We didn’t have time to screw around. My bodyguards would be on us in a second.
“Right, I heard you. But this isn’t an Uber. You can’t just get in and expect me to drive you across campus.”
“Of course I can.”
“No, you…” He stopped short as I unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. “What are you…fuck,” he hissed as I leaned over and took his cock into my mouth.
“Go,” I moaned around his length.
He immediately hit the gas.
Good boy.
My hands and lips worked in unison as he kept growing. And growing. And growing. God damn. I had hit the jackpot. I tightened my grip and swirled my tongue around his thick shaft. Each groan told me I was closer to getting my reward. Which was good, because we didn’t have much time. According to google maps, the dean’s mansion was only like a five-minute ride away from my dorm.
Ha. Five minutes. No guy could last five minutes with my mouth on their cock. Unless I wanted them to last. Which in this case…I kind of did. He was bigger than Jock #1, 2, and 3. And he was definitely bigger than my boyfriend. It would feel so good to climb on top of him as soon as we arrived. But no…I couldn’t get distracted. I had to stick to the plan.
He hit a speedbump and his cock slid all the way into my throat.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned.
So you like my throat, huh? I reached back, grabbed one of his hands, and put it on my head. He immediately pushed my head down again.
I gagged, but only to make him feel good. My gag reflex didn’t exist - not since I’d spent a summer in high school deepthroating every banana I could get my hands on. And then I’d graduated to plantains.
I could have made him cum right then and there, but I didn’t feel like chatting with him afterwards. So I slowed down a little until it felt like it had been about five minutes. Then I slid my hand down and massaged his balls as I picked up the pace. He grew harder, if that was even possible. And when he pushed on my head to jam his cock all the way down my throat, I knew that it was time for my prize. But since his cock was so far down my throat, I hardly even got to taste his delicious cum. No fair! I’d worked hard for that.
I waited until he was all spent and then sat up. My timing was perfect, because we’d just pulled up to the front door of an old brick mansion. Strobe lights poured out of the windows, and I could already feel the bass in the seat of the car.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said as I wiped a little cum off my lips. God, what I would do to have a few more minutes so he could bury his face in my pussy. But alas, time was limited. Besides, he’d already given me a ride for my time. I kissed his cheek, grabbed my umbrella, and hopped out.
A line of students wrapped around the side of the mansion. But I wasn’t some basic bitch, so I walked right up the stairs. It wasn’t like they were going to turn me away…I was barely wearing anything.
I gave the security guy a little wave as I passed. And then a horrible thought occurred to me. I hadn’t told my driver my name! Damn it! That beautiful man would have thought about Chastity Morgan every time he got into a car for the rest of his life. But he didn’t know my name. So now he’d just forever remember me as the perfect 10 who gave him the world’s best road head.
Oh well. I could live with that.
In fact…I kind of liked that better. Now that I thought about it, him not knowing my name made it so much more mysterious. When I became famous someday, he’d always see me on TV and wonder - is that the road head goddess?
I walked past the couples grinding and peered into a few corners. I had a feeling that was where I’d find Ash. But I was three corners in and she wasn’t anywhere to be found. Where are you hiding, Ash?
“There you are!” yelled Jock #1 over the music. “I thought you weren’t going to show.”
See? Two hours late works every time. “Sorry, I had another thing.”
“What?” He cupped his hand to his ear like that would help him hear me over the music blasting.
“Nothing. Let’s dance!” I grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the dance floor.
Despite the dean’s family room being so spacious, the floor was packed. Which was perfect. I loved the energy of tons of people dancing. Nothing beat the feeling of music flowing through me as I grinded up on Jock #1. Well, that wasn’t true. Sex was better. But dancing was a close second.
“Dude!” yelled some guy who had just draped his arm around Jock #1’s shoulders. “We got in!”
“For real?” said Jock #1.
“Yup. Come check it out.”
Jock #1 grabbed my hand and we followed his friend to a pair of rich wooden doors. Inside, six guys in ski masks lounged around the dean’s desk. One of them had his feet up on the desk while the rest stood around him. It looked like a scene straight out of a news report about a coup d’etat. The only difference was these guys were wielding wooden frat paddles and golf clubs instead of AK-47s.
“Holy shit,” said Jock #1. “We really did it!”
“Yeah we did,” said the guy in the chair. He hoisted a red solo cup into the air. “Here’s to Alpha Omicron.” They all laughed as someone on the other side of the room snapped a photo. And then they took another just to be sure no one blinked.
I had to hand it to them. It was super ballsy to throw this party in the first place. But it was even more ballsy to then take a photo in the dean’s office. And as a final cherry on top, they’d spray-painted their frat letters across the dean’s portrait. Unless their parents were as rich as Daddy, they were for sure gonna get expelled.
The guy at the desk popped up, took off his mask, and walked over to us. “So, Topher,” he said. “This must be the girl you’ve told us so much about.”
Jock #1’s name is Topher? Gross.
“Yup,” said Topher. “Chastity, meet Cornelius Buttersworth III.”
“Call me Trip.” He pulled off his Alpha Omicron t-shirt to reveal a perfectly pressed pink polo underneath.
Yeah, definitely a trust fund kid.