Paula Cash - Closet Queen

"No going to rooms," said Spider, "We do it now-here-with no more excuses. I aim to get an 'A' in Chem. I have to drag down ‘A’s” to get the bonus money on my job. Start jacking… ”

"You gotta at least do it, too," said Tom sullenly.

Spider grinned at him, took down his zipper, brought out his cock, and had it hard in seconds. Spider, the exhibitionist, had no trouble in getting it out and off at the slightest excuse, in public or private, day or night, fuck, suck, or jack-off. He was a natural animal.

Tom and Harold had less luck. Blushing and fumbling they tried but they stayed soft. Tom couldn't even get enough of a stander to put on the condom.

"Come on, you apes," begged Spider. "It should take two minutes or less. Think dirty. Talk dirty. Do you want some pictures of naked girls?”

"No!" said Harold. "It's-well, it's too cold in here. At least you could close that window.”

Spider went over and slammed down the window.

"Somebody outside might see," Tom protested.

"Not unless they climb that tree outside. I can't think of a body on campus who'd give a red damn if three guys stood around in a room jacking off anyway.”

"Well, don't look," said Tom, shame-faced.

"Tell you what," said Spider. "I'll turn out the lights. I'll even do more than that. I'll do imitations of some of the top campus cuties." He shot his hand out and turned off the lights, leaving them totally in the dark. "I'll pretend I'm, say, that hot blonde, Cheryl Wallace, or the sexy redhead, Abby Windsor. Maybe that'll help.”

The two began to get in the spirit of the thing with the lights out. It was a crazy kind of Spider sex caper. They began to laugh and joke and told Spider they were coming along fine.

"Except the damned rubber cuts the feeling," said Tom.

"So peel off the rubber, you klutz," said Spider. "Put it on just before you shoot.”

Male grunts and laughs in the darkness. Spider started out his imitation of girl voices in a shaky falsetto and that was kicks.

"Oh, Harold,you're fucking me. Oh, I'm so hot. You're prick's wounding me… " Another voice: "Tom, I can't staaaaaand it, it feels so good.”

He got better and better at the imitations. It was, thought Harold, the power of rising sex. That crazy Spider was something else again, the way he could warm up to those imitations. A guy would swear the soft-voiced Abby or the honey-toned Cheryl were right here in the room.

"You guys getting there?" asked Spider after a while, natural-voiced.

"Close," muttered Tom.

"Going right-ah-up," gasped Harold.

"Chug it," said Spider. "Ahhhh, I'm getting there myself. Oh, Cheryl, honey, I'm fuuuucking you deep. Ah, ah. Bet I beat both of you guys. How about a cold six-pack bet.”

"You're on," grunted Tom. "I-I-almost th-there.”

"Smaller cock," laughed Harold, "faster a-a-a-a-action. Too late you guys, I-uh-ohhhhh, I win!”

The lights flashed on. Tom stared in horror. Harold gave a scream. Standing before them in too, too solid flesh were not one, not two, but three fully dressed females. Cheryl Wallace, Abby Windsor and another Delt girl. Grinning at them. Hooting as the two masturbators tried to hold back.

"Go, tiger!”

"Spurt that goal!”

"Blitz, fellas, blitz!”

To make it worse, Spider stood there, zipper closed, his cock not even exposed, as he smiled benignly down on them, the two taken Sigs jogging on their cocks and staring in horror as if their parents had just walked into the room.

Harold gave a screech of agony, but it was too late to stop. His cock might be smallish, but his back-pressure was fantastic. Greasy and graceful loops of jissum shot lazily through the air to fall on Cheryl’s knees and boots. Tom fell back, his cock shooting straight up in the air. Abby stepped quickly forward, held her hands like a tent over the spuming cock and deflected the rich, liquid explosions back downward into his lap to create a soaking pool of shame.

"Ahhh, noooo," wailed Harold.

"Sheeeeeit," cried Tom.

"Welcome, lads," grinned Spider, "to the sexy homecoming of Cheryl Wallace. This is an orgy night that will live forever in the annals of Sigma Nu Sigma!"…

The girls explained they'd sneaked in via the same tree route' that Cheryl had once used. They got busy with tissues to clean up the mess, but it was quickly apparent that there would be no orgy tonight. Tom was so mad that he took a swing at Spider, who ducked. Harold insisted he had to go to his room.

"With Abby and Cheryl, okay, a big joke. I know them. But-in front of a girl I haven't even been introduced to… ”

He referred to Scotty Blair, who'd come along, intrigued by the description of Spider's set of vibrators.

Cheryl saved the day. "Okay, Tom, Harold. Spider tricked you. Hid us in the closet and made you gush. So we'll turn the trick on him. Come on, girls, let's mob Spider and see what kind of stuff he's got inside.”

The three girls jumped Spider, who went down in a heap, protesting.

"No, damn it, no. I want to save it.”

He might've successfully resisted the three girls. There was no way he could save his cock when Tom and Harold helped. Off came his pants, out came his cock. Five hands snatched at it.

"One at a time," giggled Abby. "We'll all take turns. He might have to cum in one of the guys' hands, instead of one of the girls', the sex creep.”

Cheers, scuffles, grunts and loud groans emanated from Spider, "You, you guys, no. You could turn me gay. Don't-touch me-.”

But Cheryl was pretty sure that deep down Spider didn't give a damn how he got it off. He busied himself tearing down the girls' clothes, which made it even more exciting. It was the kinky-minded Abby who settled the manner of Spider's eventual orgasm. As his big cock got red and his eyes began to start from his head and he grunted in the extreme of pleasure, she cried.

"I want it in my hair. I want his jissum splashing in my hair.”

She flung loose her glorious spread of rich red hair and quickly buried the straining prick in the soft mass of it, creating a tunnel in the gleaming cascade.

"Ooohhh,aaahhhh," sobbed Spider, who'd never felt such a weird, lovely sensation. His prick began to buck, spurting thick gouts of semen into Abby's hair as she held it and stroked him to completion. The others stared in admiration at this ultimate tribute of male cock to female secondary sex characteristic. Spider's energetic cock left her hair half-sopping with warm and smelly sperm.

A pounding on the door. Mr. Skelton the house monitor was there, about to end the orgy before it began. By the time the boys admitted him there was a girl under each bed and one in the closet.

"There are women in here," said Mr. Skelton. "I want them to show. I want them out. I distinctly heard voices.”

Spider used his high falsetto, having had recent practice, "There are thousands of us here, Mr. Skelton."

Skelton glared at him. Then the monitor pointed to a smallish girl boot that belonged to Scotty.

"I suppose that isn't an article of female wear?"

Harold stepped forward. "In Paris," he said coldly, "we don't go for the crude, ugly boots of you crass Americans. A man's boot is made for comfort. My mother sent these-I don't want 'em insulted.”

He jerked off his shoe and easily slid his smaller leg inside Scotty's boot. He glared at Skelton in triumph.

Skelton grunted and walked to the closet door. He jerked it open.

"I can see a woman in there, way back in," Spider and Harold stared at each other helplessly. This time old Skelton had them.

Miraculously, Tom Talbot, not noted for speedy metal agility, came alive with a flash of genius, that occasional plunge into brilliance of which many-humans are capable.

"Aha, you bastard!" he screeched at Spider. He jumped to his feet, pointing a shaking finger at his roommate, actuality turning red. "You stole my rubber sex doll. You inflated her. I paid forty-bucks for that frigging plastic beauty and she had real wig-hair! You stole her!”