AMATEUR XXX STORIES

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ALPHABETICAL SEX STORY LISTINGS:

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DUGAN sucking one dick and then the

Mr. Dugan's Class

Mr. Dugan had class, no doubt about that. He was the one man

I truly trusted in our whole high school, James B. McFadden high.

Never once did he give any indication he wanted to touch my huge

breasts or do anything not in keeping with being a good teacher.

And if you're waiting for me to say: AND THEN I FOUND

OUT, you're wasting your time. Mr. Dugan wasn't like that.

Unfortunately the rest of the boys in school were like that. I

made matters worse by being unavailable and rude about it after the

brassiere incident, but I was really, really pissed. The boys talked my

fellow cheerleaders- I still don't know who-into stealing my bra before

games. They said they wanted to see if I could do the cheers without

my bra and still not be knocked over by the weight of my tits.

How rude. How crude. What a bunch of losers. They knew

what I thought and they hated me and I hated them. At the same time,

they didn't hate my tits. They wanted my tits and ass and that stuff, but

they didn't like me and knew I wasn't about to give it up to the likes of

them. That made them hate me all the more.

Then poor Mr. Dugan stepped into the middle of it. He had

yelled at them for teasing me before, but this time they were actually

holding me and trying to get my sweater up so they could look at my

tits. He was like a man possessed as he pulled them away from me. He

was even more pissed than I was. He held Johnny Butts in one hand

and Lenny Spigg in the other and just screamed at them.

There was no defense for what they were doing, but they didn't

like Dugan saying he was going to report them to the principal, their

parents and the police. Johnny wasn't used to being treated that way.

The Butts are big in our town. Of course that just made the scene a little

sweeter for me, but I never believed it would go so far.

I guess Johnny was more upset and scared than I thought,

because he ran out of the room and then came back about five minutes

later. Mr. Dugan was soothing me with assurances that there were

people that treated others with respect in the world and that I had just

fallen among thugs. Then Johhny hit him. He must have worked it out

when he was out of the room, because right after a bunch of his friends

trooped into the room.

"I guess old Doogie knows what's what now," Johhny said,

standing over the unconscious teacher.

Then they turned on me. Johhny and Lenny went back to

holding me as a couple of the others tied up Mr. Dugan. This time there

was enough of them to get my sweater up over my face, but they didn't

stop there. Before they were through, the only clothes near me was my

sweater pulled up like a mask over my face and my bra hanging

helpless from my arms.

Now some of the attention would have been okay if it was with

a person I liked in a different setting, but then there were guys that

wanted to bite my tits and slap my tits. It was horrible and painful and

so degrading. And that was when I thought they were just exercising

their curiosity about my tits.

They wanted it all. They only played with my tits for a few

minutes before Johhny threw me down on the floor.

"Somebody get her legs," he said as he abandoned his hold on

my arms.

Before I could struggle my sweater down, someone had taken

his place and lifted my arms over my head. Two guys had my legs and

Johnny was dropping his pants standing between my wide-spread legs.

Now you've heard of technical virgins. I was a technical non-

virgin. No boy had breached the pink gates, but I broke my cherry with

my finger two years before and had been putting that fact to good use

with a vibrator ever since. Not that I expected someone like Johhny to

believe that or that I had any intention of telling him anything but to let

me up.

When he found I had been 'tried' he hooted it to the boys.

"Don't know what to say guys," he smirked as his cock sank to

the hairs in my cunt, "But there ain't nothin' stoppin' me from gettin' in

here."

That revelation- besides embarrassing the shit out of me- brought

a round of catcalls from the boys. So little Miss Prissy had a secret.

They immediately tried and convicted Mr. Dugan of being the culprit

and they turned to the things they could to do to torment both of us.

They didn't have much luck with me since Johnny sliding his

dick in and out of me was about the most torment I could imagine. Mr.

Dugan, however, was subjected to all sorts of indignities, which he,

fortunately, missed because he was still unconscious. They pantsed

him- at least as far as the ropes around his knees and then sat him up on

his desk, propped on the globe.

There he sat, like some obscene icon holding court over these

proceedings with the look of a sacrifice on his face and his pecker

laying limp on his thigh.

Then Johnny got his 'big' idea. I guess he wasn't satisfied with

the level of protest I was generating and he wanted to really hear me

squeal.

"Go get Connie," Johnny told one of the boys, "and make sure

she comes alone. She'll understand but I don't know about her friends."

He stopped fucking me without even cumming and pulled his

pants back up to wait for our school's World-Class slut, Connie. It was

rumored that Connie would do anything for a guy and this complete

subservience made her both the object of curiosity and contempt for the

other girls.

When Connie came in she instantly lit up like a kid in a candy

store. There were all these dicks in one place and Mr. Dugan with his

thing out. She could smell just the kind of trouble she liked best.

"Connie, my dear, I would like you to do me a favor," said

Johnny, buttering her up, "Would you mind getting Mr Dugan in proper

shape for his girlfriend here?"

The innuendo that I was fucking Dugan slid smoothly by her. I

think Connie assumed everyone was fucking someone- you know, birds

gotta fly, fish gotta swim, girls gotta fuck. She turned quickly to the

problem of encouraging an erection on the unconscious man.

He didn't jerk in her hand when she touched him and that

seemed to be a first for her, judging from her puzzled look. She stroked

him a bit and then gave up and dropped her face in his lap. A lot of wet

gulping sounds and about a hundred head bobs later, she popped up

with a big grin on her face and Mr. Dugan's hardon in her hand.

Then out came the Polaroid and I knew where Johnny's devious

mind had taken him. I was unceremoniously hustled off the floor and

the sweater and bra taken off me. A couple of them tied my wrists in

front of me and then a bunch of them lifted me up and put me on Mr.

Dugan's erection. Connie guided it in and I was having sex with Mr.

Dugan- sort of.

Johnny cropped the pictures tight enough that you couldn't see

the hand forcing my face towards the camera or the ropes around Mr.

Dugan's knees. All that was there was me scowling into the camera, my

backside with a dick going into it and Mr. Dugan's slack face in the

background. He took a couple and then they tied my hands behind me

and tipped me back. This time he could get my tits in the frame and

you could just make out that there was a cock slipping into my mount.

Now he had the blackmail. Now he could really get wild.

Johnny chased the guys holding me away abruptly and took his

place behind me. This time I didn't have a clue what was in his mind. I

thought he would rape me again, but I thought he'd throw me on the

floor again to do it. I never suspected what was coming.

He didn't move me at all. I couldn't figure out what he was

trying when I felt his cock probing around under me. Mr. Dugan's dick

was still in me. Couldn't he figure out that he'd have to take that out

before he could put his in?

I found out I was the stupid one. Even the first push didn't alert

me. But on the second, he lodged the head of his cock in my anus. Lord

God! he meant to use me like a faggot! I couldn't believe he would do

that and I couldn't believe he could make his dick fit in that tiny hole.

Unfortunately, my belief did not limit his intention and my asshole

couldn't resist his determination.

It was slow-yes sir- and painful- by God, but he pushed and

angled and pushed again and won inch after inch of entrance to my

bowels. Once he was about halfway in he began to fuck in and out a

little and that seemed to give him easy gains as he slammed the rest of

his cock into my poor protesting ass. Then he called for the camera

again.

"Try and get both dicks in her and Dugan's face and her face-

but don't get mine," he instructed the boy with the Polaroid.

The flash went off until the film was exhausted and the pictures

were a mixed bag of results. But Johnny's face wasn't in any of the

pictures. Mr. Dugan and I weren't real clear in any that showed

penetration but there were a couple of magazine-quality shots of my

butt with two cocks stuck in it. You couldn't prove it was my butt, but

it was enough for me to know it was mine for the pictures to make me

sick to my stomach.

My asshole looked almost as unhappy as it felt. It was stretched

and dimpled into a deep valley between my buttcheeks and stuffed with

hard cock. And out of sight up inside me was this hard rod rummaging

around in places it didn't belong. Johnny fucked me then and the torture

just got worse.

It felt like he was ripping the tender sphincter every time he

pulled out or rammed back in and the whole process brought an

extended howl from me as I felt like he was splitting me open. And

every time the pain died a little, it seemed he moved to another more

painful angle and started it up once again.

I can't imagine anything more distasteful than the feeling when

he came. It was mostly the depraved warmth of his cum, feeling like

internal bleeding in my guts, but it was also the stabs and jerks as he

spasmed and sent his impaling cock careening wildly in all directions

up my ass. I felt hollowed out and injured as he panted hot breath on

my neck for a few seconds after shooting his load.

Then I just felt hollow as he pulled out and left what seemed to

be the Lincoln Tunnel where my tight little asshole used to be. I should

have been happy with that. The cure for the gaping hole was even less

pleasant. Johnny turned to the boys and offered me to them.

"Who wants to help old Doogie double-fuck the teacher's pet?"

he called and an instant line formed to my rear.

Then it became the horrible nightmare. It was an eternal

procession out of a dream of hell as one after the other the boys stuck

their dicks in my asshole and fucked me. It was a troubled train of

images jumping out starkly from the monotonous thump and tear of

their pricks ravaging my rectum.

I remember grinning masks of demonic joy as they leered at my

distress and protests. I remember one great pinning thrust that spread

my buttcheeks so wide that I feared the skin would tear, to say nothing

of the rod thus thrust inside me pushing all my organs toward my lungs

in the course of its massive intrusion. I remember Connie on her knees

sucking one dick and then the next as she readied each boy in turn to

take his place ramming his cock up my asshole. I remember the feel of

their semen as they pumped it out into me and then it was pumped out

of me by the next invading prick and it trickled down over my pussy

and down onto Mr. Dugan. And I remember praying as every one left

that he would be the last.

Then even that wish went sour. When the line had run its course

through my anus, they pulled me off Mr. Dugan and tied me to a desk

they had overturned. It was just the right slant and just the right height

to present my tits to them- right at groin level. My shoulders were

pulled back by the ropes and that made them stand out proud and

unprotected from whatever the boys wanted to do.

Most of them wanted to fuck my tits. It was only irritating to

have those cocks pressed between my breastflesh and rubbed back and

forth as they squeezed my tits tight around them. Some wanted to suck

and lick them. That was actually pretty good, given that I was going to

be tied there naked anyway. A few wanted to hurt me. That sucked big

time. I was pinned helpless as they bit and pinched, slapped and

whipped my tender flesh.

Then Johnny pissed on me. It was a long time later. Some of the

boys got excited between my tits and then and fucked Connie, who was

making it loudly known that she would take all comers. There were

lulls and then some guy would want to toy with me again. I was raped

vaginally a couple of times. Even Connie came over and sucked on my

tits while some guy fucked her from behind. It seemed like it took

days, but it must have only been hours.

Then Johnny pissed on me.

"This is what hoity-toity sluts like you want," said instant

psychologist Johnny as he pointed his dick at me and let loose the

yellow stream.

He didn't seem to care where it fell. He just wanted to piss on

me. Others followed and pissed on my tits and belly. It wasn't until

Connie straddled me that I got my first facefull of urine.

And then they left. Dripping, stinging and ultimately rank, I was

left tied to the desk naked. I had nearly struggled my way free when

my calls and my struggles finally attracted the attention of the janitor.

His leers and dirty chuckles at finding me in that condition were

unfortunately cut short by a alternative concern as he noticed Mr.

Dugan.

I was glad to grab clothes and cover myself, but poor Mr.

Dugan was not moving. The emergency squad rushed him to the

hospital, but he died without regaining consciousness. They said he had

been bleeding inside his skull since he was hit and the pressure finally

killed him.

Even Johnny Butts couldn't get away with murder. It was a

mixed blessing for me. I got to see Mr. Dugan avenged, but the

Polaroids that Johnny took for protection became one of his worst

accusers. That meant they became public and it meant the defense

attorney got to rake me over the coals about what was happening when

they were taken.

I think that was a stupid thing to do, since even if we were all

having an orgy, it still proved Johnny wasn't very concerned for Mr.

Dugan's well-being. It kind of cut off any plea that it was all an

accident and Johnny was real scared and just panicked. I didn't think it

helped his case at all to attack me, since I wasn't really his accuser.

And of course I hated reliving the whole ordeal. I'm glad I didn't

know Mr. Dugan was dying while it was happening. It was bad enough

to have to live through it without knowing I was the last fuck of a dying

man.