J.B. Rogers

What does a dominant couple get their submissive third for Valentine’s Day? Here’s one answer, excerpted and modified from my current WIP…

I knew they were up to something, but I had no idea what it could be. When I got Jimmy’s text, ordering me to visit the last stall in a bathroom in the math building and knock twice on the wall, it was almost a relief. Whatever’s coming, it’s happening now. The hall was empty, so ducking into the men’s room was no problem. It wasn’t empty, but thankfully I made it into the stall without being spotted. I knocked twice, and an empty plastic bag slid across the floor. I shivered from more than the chilly air as I read the note and put all of my clothes inside except my sneakers, garter belt, and denim-print stockings. When I shoved it back over, a small trash can took its place. I was grateful for the knee pads I found inside, and the hood and blindfold were self-explanatory. The note directed me to hang the final item, a fanny pack, on the hook inside the door before unlocking it and kneeling. I was to knock once when I was ready, or twice at any time to back out. Back out of what? No, I had a good idea what was coming, and I couldn’t wait. My hands shook as I zipped the hood closed, but I knocked firmly.

The door opened and closed behind me. Two zippers purred open, foil tore, and I gasped as the strange pair of hands touched my waist. My wet pussy welcomed his cock, and I ground back against him as he fucked me. He didn’t last long, and I guessed that the wet splat in the trash can was his discarded rubber. One down, but how many to go? Something scratched across the small of my back, then he smacked my ass and was gone.

The next dick went up my asshole, but otherwise it was the same story. Zip, tear, fuck, splat, scratch – my left ass cheek, this time – smack, and gone. Sometimes I got my tits groped, a few guys reached down to rub my clit, and some of the studs actually had some stamina, but aside from those riffs, the song remained the same. About halfway through pleasing my sixth dick, it dawned on me what day it was, and I smiled under the soft leather. This was a Valentine’s Day I’d never forget, and I surrendered to sensation as I asked myself what I could possibly do for them that could come anywhere close to this.

Around number ten – not that I was counting, but somewhere around there – a voice whispered into my ear. “You okay, Shie?” I didn’t trust my voice, so I settled for nodding while squeezing my pussy around Jimmy’s cock. He kissed my left shoulder and scratched a ragged circle around the spot when he was done, and did so again after each of the other three times he checked on me. The last time, as horny as I was, I was too raw to keep going. I shook my head, and he patted my back in reassurance. We finished our fourth fuck of the afternoon – that I knew of – and the shuffling feet and disappointed muttering made me feel vaguely guilty about not pushing myself further.

Jimmy removed my hood and tucked it and the knee pads into the fanny pack before I could see what else had been inside. The rubbers, sure, but what was the scratching about? I looked at my arms, where I’d felt some of the men make their marks, but I saw nothing. Maybe it was just a sensual palate-cleanser, a way to say goodbye. I shrugged it off as he ordered me to strip again, and Jimmy’s clothes were rough against my skin as he molded me against him for my second scorching kiss of the day. I wanted to drop back to my knees and fish his cock out of his pants to suck him off, but I knew there was no way he’d be ready again so soon. He ran his fingers down my spine before surprising me with a sharp smack on my ass that made me jump, and a chill of panic swept over me as he took my clothes, the fanny pack, and the small trash bag – had there really been that many men? – and closed the door behind him. There I was, completely naked in a barren men’s room all the way across campus from my room – what if he just left me there?

What indeed?