As hard as she tried, Clara could not get the tale of the gang bang out of her mind. Her feelings about the story astonished her. Rather than disgust, or horror, there was envy. She had the feeling that she had missed something, rather than escaped it.
Her memories of her experiences with Wil added to her dissatisfaction. There must be more to sex than what she had felt so far. What was the song? "Is that all there is?" If that was all there was, then she would keep dancing.
She thought of how her parents would feel about what she had done already, and shivered guiltily. As she looked down at the dark campus, she thought of her home, and her gut knotted. What had she become?
Then she thought of Lois being the helpless toy of four boys, and getting cock after cock. Clara's pussy began to drool with hunger.
The ringing of the telephone in the hallway interrupted her reverie. For a moment she let it ring, hoping someone else would answer it. Then she remembered that the dorm was virtually deserted – everyone was at the movies – and hauled herself up off her bed. She tied the belt of her robe and wiped her slimy fingers on the quilted cotton. She hadn't realized she had been fingering her sopping cunt as she daydreamed. Her gut was an aching knot of horniness.
"Hey there, anybody home?" a strange male voice asked when she answered the telephone.
"Yes, me," Clara said, a little nettled by the bluff breeziness of the caller.
"Well, whoever you are, you sound beautiful and sexy," the voice went on.
"Do tell," Clara sniffed, "anyone special you want? Or are you just getting warmed up for the heavy breathing? Or maybe the dirty words?" She figured it was one of their regular obscene callers.
"I'm calling to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime," he went on with unabashed enthusiasm. "You, and any other lucky ladies there, are invited to a come-as-you-are beer blast at Hemlock House!"
"Oh?" Clara asked warily, interested in spite of herself. Hemlock House was a notorious off campus dorm. She had heard of their parties, but never dreamed she'd consider accepting such an invitation. "Just when is this blast going to come oft?"
"Right now, of course."
"And it's come as you are?"
"Affirmative."
"What," she began, trying to still the tremor in her voice, "if I am naked?"
"Fair lady, why do you think we give such short notice?" His tone raised the hair on the back of her neck, and made her insides coil into a hot knot.
"Do you really think I'll show up?" she asked, knowing what would happen if she did, knowing she was going to.
"Aren't you?" he taunted. Obviously, he knew the answer.
"Half an hour," Clara said. "No," she corrected hastily when she realized that if she took that long, good sense and fear would keep her from going. "Fifteen minutes."
"Right ho!" he responded, and hung up.
For a moment, Clara just stood there, the receiver in one sweaty hand, and wondered what she thought she was doing. She hadn't even asked if there were going to be other girls there. She really hoped there wouldn't be. The call, coming light in the middle of her daydreaming about Lois' gang rape, had caught her at a vulnerable moment.
She knew she shouldn't go. She hurried into her room and ran a comb through her hair. Then she glanced down at herself. The robe was ankle length, and looked enough like a coat that she could get away with it. She slipped her panties off and her shoes on.
Ten minutes later eight men were escorting her down to the combination bar and game room in the basement of the rambling old mansion. Downstairs were two other girls, and four more men. She knew them only by sight.
The guys were dressed in blue jeans and sweat shirts. The other two girls had either cheated on the "come as you are" part of the invitation, or been caught in jeans and tank tops. Clara, in her bathrobe, was immediately the center of attention. She was surrounded by men, and a drink was pressed into her hand.
Someone slammed the juke box into action and music dinned around her, battering her already swimming senses. She began to dance. As her guts boiled, she tied to tell herself she was drunk.
She knew she wasn't.
The robe whipped around her bare legs as she danced dreamily. The faces around her blurred as she spun. They were clapping for her. Even the other girls were watching as she whirled around the room. Everyone was watching her! Everyone!
Her belt loosened as she swirled. A hand reached out, tugged, and the knot gave way. Just a single twist was holding the belt closed now and only the belt was holding the robe closed. The twist loosened, the robe loosened, and the neckline deepened towards her waist. The robe opened, upwards from the bottom, toward her boiling crotch. Air touched her bare flesh, as did the hungry stares of a dozen pairs of eyes.
There was another tug on the belt, and it whipped free. Clara clutched at her single covering, restrained it enough to keep a few secrets, but not enough to discourage her audience. She continued to dance. Something was driving her on, forcing her to keep moving. She knew if she stopped she would panic and run. One part of her wanted to run. But another part wouldn't allow it, because running away would mean the hunger in her groin would continue eating at her like a hot, cancerous worm.
So, she danced. She kicked away her shoes. Her bare feet whispered over the cold, dusty tile. The robe slipped until it was flickering open and shut over her brown muff, and just barely concealing her tits.
Another drink was thrust at her. She reached for it. As her hand closed on the glass, her robe spread open, bared her tits and cunt. As air whipped over her skin there was a bellow of admiration from the crowd.
There had been a subtle change in her audience as Clara danced. The other girls were each with two men. The men's hands were fondling and probing and touching one of the girls was up on the bar. Her shirt was shoved up so her lush jugs were bare. She was hugging two men to her. As they fed on her boobs, their hands probed her crotch, fondled her through her jeans.
Someone tugged on Clara's robe from behind. She let them drag it off her shoulders, down her arms. She whirled away from it. She was ravishingly, excitingly naked and free and unfettered. She danced for the hungry men, not about to let the other girls steal her attention.
There were hands on her now. They were probing and touching her, bruising her, bringing her to a searing boil. Her breasts were clutched and touched and brushed until they ached. Her ass was patted and stroked.
She stopped as bodies pressed in around her. Then the men were stripping off their clothes, baring their cocks, cocks that were drooling for her. Hands gripped her, probed her naked pussy, found the swamp of her hungry hole. In a whirl of wanton horniness she was passed around the circle of men. Hand after hand felt her up. Every touch made her pussy steam hotter than ever. Then the hands on her became bolder. Her cunt was drilled, her clit was punished, her labes were pinched and tormented by rude fingers.
She was guided back through the crowd, away from the bar, away from the other girls, who were now as naked as she was. As the men closed in, Clara saw a mammoth cock drill into the blonde pussy of the girl on the bar. Mother man was at the girl's head. He was leaning over her and pistoning his penis in her mouth.
Then there was something hard behind Clara's ass and she tumbled backwards. The green felt of the pool table was harsh against her naked ass as she was bent back over the rail. Hands were clutching her legs, forcing her thighs wide, opening her pussy. Other hands were dragging at her arms, spread-eagling her on the table. The rail was under her butt. The cold metal lifted her hips, invited penetration of her gaping cunt.
Clara surveyed the men leering at her. Waving, dripping cocks surrounded her. They all wanted her. All those cocks had one target. The knowledge brought fear, a feeling of power, and joy, and anticipation.
Then someone was leaning over her and she felt a dick poke at her twat. She let her eyes close as a wave of lust roared over her. It was happening!
Cock slid into her, drilled her, pressed open her inflamed cuntlips. She moaned. Her breasts were being squeezed and pressed, bruised and twisted. She was being glutted with dong, crammed with cock. The man pistoned in her swampy hole, pumped his towering shaft deep into her. While the one man raped her, the others watched, held her spread wide as they impatiently waited their turns. She struggled weakly against their grasp.
The cock pistoned in her forever. She rose closer and closer to her own searing climax. Then she felt spasming and spurting in her. Hot cum filled her sucking cunt. She writhed ecstatically. She was so close to cumming.
The jetting stopped and the cock was yanked rudely out of her. She moaned and heaved as her cuming receded.
"Fuck me," she wailed. "Fuck me!"
A cock slammed into her brutally. She groaned. Her hips bucked, her pussy flooded. The cock pistoned in her, quick and hard. She was jarred by each impact as the dick burned her twat hole with friction. She was lifting up toward the peak again, up toward the glittering explosion.
But before she could crest, the dick in her unloaded, fountained wave after searing wave of goo into her pussy. She writhed and struggled in a desperate attempt to reach the summit of pleasure. She fell short. Her second attacker abandoned her, left her with just swilling cum and a memory.
Then there was another prick. Things were beginning to get a bit hazy. The new cock slammed into her. She didn't know, or care, if it was the third or the fourth, or the tenth or the hundredth. Her pussy was a bruised, battered mass of meat. The man ground her labes, pistoned his dick in her cunt. She heaved and writhed as the cock pumped in her cunt, and then flooded her with waves of thick creamy jizz. She felt hot rivers of goo streaming down over her butt, down past her asshole.
Someone ordered her to turn over. She tried to, but was too weak. Hands pushed and shoved, rolled her over. She was bent over the rail so her ass was high in the air.
Another cock drilled her pussy, rammed into her already inundated depths. She felt a wave of cum pump out of her flooded cunt as the cock penetrated her sodden channel. Her ravisher leaned over her, pound her gut against the rail and fucked her with powerful thrusts. She focused on a hard-on near her face. She swallowed, and sought the erect tower of meat with her mouth. She failed. The man screwing her pushed against her and began to unload in heavy spurts. Foaming waves of goo drizzled down her thighs. She moaned as her twat was drowned by another load of cum.
There was a bellow of laughter as the next man came up behind her. Something pushed at the wrong hole! She thought for a moment it was just a case of bad aim. But then the pressure increased, and she knew it was deliberate. It felt fantastic! She tried to open her asshole. As the cock slowly pried its way into her ass, she felt her ring of muscle stretch. It began to hurt. Her mouth gaped as the hot cock was slowly driven into her tiny hole.
There was a slithering snap as if something had broken, and then she was being stuffed with dork. It felt like a mammoth turd! Only it was going the wrong way! It was bringing her pleasure she had never believed possible. Pinned down on a pool table, she was being overwhelmed by the searing glory of a cock up her tail.
Her pussy was pinched by the mass in her bung. A wave of cum spurted from her empty hole and dribbled in thick gobs down her thighs. The cock in her tail began to piston in her depths. It burned in and out of her tortured anus until she thought she was going to be turned inside out. Then it began to leap and jump in her rectum and she felt hot cream hosing her bowels. The blazing enema went on and one and on, until there was barely a twitch. Then her guts went into action and crapped out the shriveling invader.
Another cock plunged into her pussy. She felt herself floating away in a haze of pain and pleasure. The world was a blur of pounding cocks as she was taken again and again and again.
Then she was rolled over on her back. Someone got up on the table with her. They straddled her, and pushed a cock against her lips. Someone else held her head up, and her face was getting fucked. She sucked and tasted thick waves of something, and then she was choking and gasping as semen spurted down her throat.
When she finally returned to reality, she was being helped off the pool table. Weakly, she focused her eyes. The other girls were supporting her. She felt a wave of cum stream out of her as she staggered weakly along. "More," she groaned. Her cunt spasmed.
"Come on, honey, time for a shower," the blonde who had been on the bar ordered.
"Jeez, she really took a load," the other girl noted as they guided Clara toward the stabs. Clara gazed around. The men were in a self-consciously noisy knot. They were still naked, but their cocks were all limp. She knew, somehow, that they were ashamed of what they had done. She wanted to reassure them, to tell them it was okay. After all, she had asked for it, hadn't she? But, before she could say anything, she was hustled up the stairs.
"Crazy kid," the blonde commented as she carefully washed Clara's asshole. "You're not the type for this kind of shit."
Clara wanted to argue, but was too exhausted to talk.
"Where you from, honey?" the blonde asked they had dried her off and gotten her robe back on her.
Clara managed to croak out the name of her dorm. Then there was a car, and her bed, and deep, deep sleep.