Goings on in the Dorm
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Going, Going...Chapter 7 free porn video
Four people in a queen-size bed are a lot. Especially since they had always slept alone. Well, Jenny had not slept with anyone for years. Whenever one of them had moved or turned over, at least one more had been awakened.
Kayla felt Michael spoon up behind her. Then she felt his hard cock pressed against her butt. She tried to go back to sleep, but the thought of that cock going unused preyed on her mind. She finally gave up. She reached behind her, lined him up with her entrance, and slowly pressed him home. God! That felt so wonderful! She felt so safe, so loved in this bed, with her new lovers. She started gently moving her hips, trying to get friction.
She felt Stacy roll toward her. Soon, she felt Stacy's hand on her breast. Stacy nuzzled in and gave her a gentle, loving, but deep kiss. "Shhh," whispered Stacy, who snaked her way down Kayla's body, kissing and licking all the way. When she reached Kayla's center, Stacy nudged her leg back and over Michael's. She started to slowly and gently lick her new sister's pussy.
Of all the fantasies she had ever had, Kayla had never dreamed of being fucked and licked at the same time. The very idea of it, combined with the sensations, sent her lust rocketing. It took Herculean effort to keep her motions restrained, lest she wake Michael, and maybe even Jenny behind him. And so she found herself restrained, as though bound, if only by her own need not to disturb the rest. That too added gasoline to the flames of desire coursing through her.
Stacy's questing tongue, combined with Michael's cock sunk deep within her, soon had tiny orgasms rippling through her body in wave after wave. Stacy's tongue was circling and lapping over her clit. Holding her body relatively still only made her lust climb higher and higher. Finally, she felt the jets of the still-sleeping Michael's release deep within her. Like a lightning bolt, a powerful orgasm struck her entire body, doubling her over. She trembled and quaked. When she had recovered, she pulled Stacy back up to her and they shared deep, loving kisses. They fell back to sleep.
Bob was gently shaken awake. He snapped to semi-alertness and began to carefully extricate himself from his sleeping daughter. It certainly was not morning yet, but the log in his pants said otherwise. He hoped he could hide his condition long enough to make it to the bathroom. He was doubly embarrassed that he had been cuddled up to his own flesh and blood.
Sleeping on the hard floor had caused him to wake often. Having Sandy wrapped in his arms had made it worse -- she was not used to sleeping with another, and her apparently vivid dreams had caused the motions of her young body to be more pronounced than her mother's ever were. He silently prayed that Sandy had slept soundly. He was at least comforted in the knowledge that he had not waked with his hands on the wrong parts of her body.
Jean laid the sap beside him, told him quietly that they had settled all the kids in their bedding, and wished him good night. By the time he had managed to rise and was seeing that the blanket still covered Sandy, Jean had moved to join her husband on the other side of the room. He 'pocketed' the sap under his belt in the small of his back and padded off to relieve himself.
His beer consumption sent down the sewer pipe and his face washed, he emerged from the rest room. He found Ellen serving coffee for them both. "Good morning, sunshine," she greeted him. "I don't think caffeine is going to help very much. I don't know which is worse, one hour's sleep, or none." She smiled.
"At least you didn't have to share a blanket with a wiggle-worm," chuckled Bob. "Between the hard floor and Sandy acting out her dreams, I wonder if I ever got five minutes of sleep at a time."
They fixed their coffees and began a slow, aimless stroll, examining the carnage so casually wreaked upon the facility by the young partiers. No real damage was evident, but the mess was truly world-class. They walked together, everywhere. The girls' room was not as thoroughly trashed as the boys', but in both rooms the stench was overpowering. No young supine bodies were found other than in the sleeping area, thankfully. The perimeter doors were closed and secure. Jean and Mike had seemingly stored what little food that had remained in good condition. Much food had been spilled or otherwise scattered, beyond redemption.
Their Grand Tour completed, they headed for a card table to sit down. Clearing the wreckage from the tabletop to a nearby table, they sat across from each other. After an amiable silence, Bob said "I've known you for a lot of years, Ellen. In all that time, I don't think I have ever had the opportunity for a casual conversation with you."
"You may be right," she allowed. "Our participation in the Core Group may even be the only time we have ever met outside my office." Both sat, woolgathering, occasionally meeting their eyes. "You know, don't you, that the entire town feels that you are solely to blame for the entire extraction and CAP enhancement plan?"
Bob blushed, shaking his head. "You know that isn't so, Ellen."
"On the contrary: I may well be the greatest adherent," smiled Ellen. "I have seen you in our meetings. Steve helped bring some focus to the plan, especially before it became part of the town consciousness. But Steve isn't invested in the plan, really. Yes, he comes to our meetings and actively participates in the discussions. But, since this ball got rolling, I think you have devoted more than half your time working on it. Was Steve at the orientation yesterday? Did Steve attend tonight? Can you name anyone else who thought of this crackpot scheme?" She smiled at him. He just shook his head, a rueful smile on his face.
"You will forgive me, please," she continued, "but I am astounded that your CAP score doesn't qualify you to volunteer. When was the last time you were tested?"
"I've only been tested once," he answered. "I knew most people don't qualify. I got my score and accepted it. Sure, I was deeply disappointed. But I was a grown man and I didn't think a re-test would change anything."
"There is a difference," she smirked, "between growing and maturing. Any of these youngsters can be a father, but it takes much more to be a dad."
"Well," he sighed, "we'll see. I decided to spend all day, every day proctoring the kids in their Program. Maybe, just maybe, some of their education will rub off on me."
"I have absolutely no doubts, Mr. Minter, that you will sponsor your family, and others, when the time comes."
"Hope springs eternal," he smiled at her. "We shall see."
"May I turn the conversation somewhat?" she asked.
"Away from me?" he asked. "Oh, please do. Otherwise, I may have to find a hole to crawl into. My embarrassment level is becoming almost unbearable."
"Oh, you!" she laughed. "OK, I'd like to talk about an aspect of the Program that doesn't seem to have earned much attention. I think the Program is well organized for the kids. But what about the adults? How and when will suitable candidates be identified? How and when will they be trained?"
"Oh," he said, nonplussed. She watched as he began to put his mind to the problem. She took the time to refresh their coffee, placing his refilled cup beside him and returning to her seat.
"If you don't mind," he said after a time, "can we first work through the second part of that first, and then tackle the first?" She nodded. "As for the training, and as I think about it, it seems that having adults in with the kids will be detrimental to them both. The kids may be denied opportunities to express leadership and innovation; the adults may consciously or unconsciously devote time helping the kids rather than helping themselves. So, I guess that means the adults would have to train before and after school, and on weekends. Adult trainers, proctors and teachers will have to be recruited."
Ellen beamed. "That, Bob, is the kind of intelligence that gives lie to your CAP score. I don't know whether you have been working the problem, even subconsciously, but I think you've scored another bulls eye."
"Thanks," he shyly smiled.
"What about the problem of selecting candidates?" she asked.
"That is a problem, certainly," allowed Bob. "Here are my thoughts. We have, or we will soon have, CAP sub-scores for everyone in town. But we don't know how to interpret what we have. Even the Confederacy doesn't know exactly why one person gets to volunteer, and another doesn't. So, we'll have to select candidates by guess and by golly.
"As I see it, there are two distinct groups that need attention. Some of us, well, some of them, have already scored well enough to volunteer."
"There's that self-deprecating from you again, Bob," she chided. "I'll make you a bet. If you aren't a volunteer on the day we are extracted, I'll bequeath every dime I own to you."
He smiled shyly. "I appreciate your confidence in me, however misplaced. All right, you have a bet. What's the payoff for you if I can volunteer?"
She smiled coyly. "Oh, we'll find a suitable reward, I'm sure. Maybe I'll ask you to make a donation." She blushed crimson.
Bob was shocked, but smiled wanly. "OK, some have qualified to volunteer. The rest have not. For the already-volunteers, we ought to at least consider whether it seems likely that enough enhancement could be had to let the volunteer take two more people.
"For those below a CAP score of 6.5, we need to do our best to help them enhance their scores enough to volunteer. And I mean that formulation: they need help to help themselves. The non-volunteers -- maybe all of the candidates for enhancement -- should mostly self-select. If they don't jump at the chance to train, there might not be much hope for them anyway."
Bob saw that Ellen was lost in thought. He turned his attention to his coffee, and let his own mind wander.
"Hot damn, Bob," she finally said with a smile, "you've nailed it again. I hadn't thought about them self-selecting. Let's have a run through the statistics, and see what pops out."
They decided to make another tour of the facility to make sure all was well. They stopped and re-filled their coffee and began to stroll. As they expected, all was quiet. When they had finished, Bob checked the time.
"Ellen, it's nearly 6:00. We agreed to hand off our watch and, presumably, go back and try to sleep. "I, for one, don't think two hours' sleep on a hard floor at this hour will do me much good. I think I'll stay up and let at least one chaperone sleep. Would you like to get some sleep? I wouldn't object if you wanted to just go home. Or, you can stay up with me, if you promise not to pry out my darkest secrets."
She laughed gaily. "I have a hunch that all the adult supervision available will be needed when these yahoos get rousted out of here. I think I'll stay for the duration, thank you."
"I confess," smiled Bob, "that I'm glad of your answer. I have enjoyed your company. We may actually have been productive, for a while. Which surprises me, because I feel like my brain is in a vise. I shouldn't be able to rub two thoughts together in my condition." Ellen's laughter sparkled in his ears. "I think my challenge for the next two hours is to hold up my end of a very pleasant conversation with the single most private person in the entire town."
Ellen blushed deeply. "I'm not that bad," she said defensively. "I am active in the community. I attend meetings, parties, and other social functions. What makes you say I'm such a private person?"
Bob grinned. "I congratulate you, Ellen. With casual grace, you have laid an amazing mine field." She blushed. "I'm already nearly brain-dead from exhaustion. I most humbly ask that you allow me to withdraw my gaffe."
"No sir, not on your life," she chuckled. "Now I have you on the ropes. Time to finish you off."
He laughed too. She let him gather his thoughts, hoping she had not thrown cold water on their very pleasant time together.
She smiled shyly, looking first at her coffee, then at him, then down again. "Allow me," she said quietly, "to take you off the hook a little bit." She looked him right in the eyes and held his gaze locked with hers. "You have not co-opted me into making disclosures about myself against my will. I would like you to know a bit more about me. And it will be therapeutic for me to say these truths out loud, for the first time in a long time."
She took some time, gathering her thoughts, gathering her courage. "I was born and raised in the big city. "I was the eldest of four children. My father is -- was -- a cardiac surgeon. He practiced and taught at the university medical school. Although my mother didn't work, she was an accomplished musician, and she often wrote magazine articles. She was incredibly quick-witted. Her repartees were razor-sharp, always thoughtful, and seldom mean-spirited. She was never catty about anything or anyone. I have never met anyone so skilled at delivering such devastating insults. We roared with laughter. I had a wonderful childhood. I had everything I needed, and nearly everything I wanted. Our home was filled with laughter and much love.
"When it was time for me to go to college, and to decide what I wanted to be when I grew up, there was never any question in my mind but that I would be a doctor. Undergraduate school was challenging but fun."
She was silent for a time. She toyed with her coffee cup, steeling her nerve. "You can see the punch line coming, can't you?" He nodded, sadly.
She looked down at the table as she spoke, nearly whispered. "I went to a sorority party one spring night. On my way home, alone, I was raped."
The silence stretched between them for a long time. Finally, she brought her head up and looked at him again. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. "I was a virgin," was all she said. She returned her gaze to the tabletop.
"I dropped out and moved back home. I didn't get pregnant, fortunately," she choked. "That would have been more than I could have borne. I was frightened until my period started. My only thoughts were re-living the rape, and the awful knowledge that I would bear that child, and love it, and always see its father in its eyes, forever."
She took a deep breath, trying valiantly to recover herself. She returned her gaze to his. The tears continued to stream down her face, but she ignored them. "Being raped destroys far more women than you will ever know. My parents wouldn't let that happen to me. My parents -- especially my mother -- nurtured me, trusted me, believed in me, flooded me with all the love I could handle, gave me all the space and time I needed to recover.
"And I did recover. By the time summer was over, I was ready to go back to school, and I did. Some rape victims become militant, hate-filled shrews. I didn't. But in the deepest part of me, I knew I was empty, bereft. I knew he had stolen from me far more than my hymen. I knew he had stolen from me any chance to have a family, to have children, ever.
"I didn't cry. I got to work. I poured my every fiber into my schooling. I went directly from undergraduate into medical school. When I finished, I knew I wanted to be a family doctor. I knew I wanted to live in a town so small, I'd be the only doctor. I found Dr. Hampton trying to sell his practice so that he could retire, secure in the knowledge that the town was well cared for. He wouldn't take nearly the full worth of his practice. But he grilled me for a long time, long enough so that he knew he would leave the town in good hands.
"I have a libido. I knew I simply would never have a man in my bed. There are more rape victims than you would care to imagine. We find each other. I became lovers with many of them. Most were simply in need of a hot night in the sack, and no more. There were some who may have had the capacity to be my long-time partner. I knew the odds were long enough, even before I shared with them my plan to move to the middle of nowhere, that I never tried to find someone.
"So I moved to town, bought a house, and began the practice of medicine. You know better than I how the gossip mill works in a small town. I gave up any thought of finding that special someone here. The risk that we would have a falling-out, that she'd vindictively share my secret, was too great. Which meant I was still suffering the after-effects of the rape, all those years later. Such is the enormity of the crime of rape.
"One of my patients was a little mouse of a woman, almost painfully shy and very submissive. She would let a man take her to bed, let him dominate her, let him abuse her. I watched the progression over and over. It always ended up with him beating her. She would present herself to me with cuts, vivid bruises and nasty abrasions, sometimes even with broken bones. At least the beatings would prompt her to terminate the relationship. Too many women do not have it within them to escape their abuser. Fortunately, she had no children.
"Finally, one time she told me she had nowhere else to go. I took her in. I meant it only as an act of compassion. I had no designs on her. But that first night, she came into my bedroom, stark naked, told me she was starved for affection, and begged to come into my bed. I let her. I learned that her shame was the key to her lust. The greater her shame, the greater her lust. She has been with me ever since. She never dresses. She has a deep need for humiliation. That is not my kink, but she is sometimes so needy that I have no choice but to fulfill her need. It turns out that she likes to be beaten, whipped, spanked. I can only bring myself to accommodate that need on rare occasions. For days afterward, she fawns over me.
"And that, but for you, Bob Minter, would have been my fate, forever. Thanks to you, my home will soon be filled with the sights and sounds of children, happy, laughing, loved children. Without knowing it, you have given me a gift more precious than any other. I owe you everything, Bob. I will be your friend, your supporter, for the rest of my life. I will gladly do anything, give anything, help any way. And all I can ever do for you will pale to the enormity of your gift to me."
He sat in stunned silence. Words failed him. After much time, he rose, drew her to stand, and wrapped her into a deep hug. They stood, hugging silently, for a very long time.
Jenny carefully extricated herself from the pile and climbed out of bed. She gazed lovingly at her three lovers sleeping peacefully, then padded off to the bathroom down the hall. After she had finished her business, she stepped in for a quick shower. When she had toweled off, she decided she would not dress. She headed to the kitchen to make coffee.
As she poured her first cup, she heard footsteps behind her. "Yes, please," sang Stacy. "Good morning, Jenny," she continued. Jenny turned and saw Stacy pulling a nightgown over her head to stand as nude as her mother. She approached and wrapped Jenny in a warm hug. Both reveled in the feel of the other's bare skin on her body.
"Don't you think they've both got a great ass?" they heard Michael say. Kayla giggled. Still wrapped in their hug, Stacy and Jenny turned to look at them. Michael and Kayla shed their clothes as well and they approached and joined a group hug.
"Thank you so much," whispered Kayla, kissing the others. "Last night was more than I had ever dreamed of, more than I ever hoped for."
"You deserved it, Kayla," answered Stacy. "You earned it, by being my best friend for, like, forever!" she giggled.
"A satisfied customer is the best source of new business," said Michael. "I'm so glad for you."
"What do you mean?" asked Kayla as they unwound themselves from the group hug.
"Let's get coffee and I'll explain," said Stacy. They busied themselves serving coffee, then settled themselves in the living room.
"Kayla," began Stacy with a smile, "we talked yesterday about what it'd be like at the pickup as a virgin." Kayla nodded. "You were the one who told me you were in a bind, that you had no one to do the deed." Kayla nodded again. "We told you that last night was first for you, but it was a trial for us, too. Kayla, we haven't talked about it, but I already know Michael and Jenny feel very good about you."
"You feel pretty good, too," chuckled Jenny.
"Especially when you're crazy with lust!" laughed Michael.
"Stop it, Michael," chided Stacy, grinning. "Kayla, all of us, you, me, Jenny and Michael will need to take some time to sort out our thoughts and feelings. I really think you're going to be my sister and my lover for the rest of our lives. But, in the meantime, think about this: you said you didn't have anyone else to turn to. Think about how awful it would be if you hadn't had Michael and us to help you. Now, how many other girls do you think are in your same straits?" She let Kayla wrap her head around that thought.
"Kayla, I'm not pimping for my loving brother. He can have all the fucks he wants from Jenny, you and me. But I feel a responsibility to help other girls, too. I think you have a responsibility, too. I can't go around inviting girls to Michael's bed. None of us wants the whole school talking about what we did last night. Here's where you can help.
"Yesterday, when we were with Alexis and Chelsea and Lauren, I talked to all of you about how awful it would be. Everyone agreed. By tomorrow night, that thought will be all over school. How many virgins do you think there are in school, especially in the lower grades? How many girls have the same problem you had? How many girls would thank you forever if you helped them out?
They could see that Kayla was lost in thought. "You got the royal treatment, Kayla," said Jenny, "because you were already as near to being in our family as you could get. Any other girls Michael helps won't get the whole nine yards, but it will still be special, and wonderful."
"So what do I do?" asked Kayla.
"Lots of girls," answered Stacy, "will talk to any other girl who'll listen about their fears, and their hopeless situation. If you get a chance, one on one, let her know how much fun you had, sleeping over at my house. Tell them I might be able to help them. Have them come see me." Kayla grinned, nodding.
"Look at you, Michael," Kayla laughed. "Your dick is a fountain of precum! You're dreaming of being awash in maiden's-blood, aren't you?" Michael looked down at his condition and blushed. "Stacy, remember what you did to me last night? I want to do that to Jenny. Please?"
"What?" squeaked Jenny.
Stacy got a wicked grin. "Kayla woke up in the night and found Michael's hard cock pushing against her butt. She reached around and guided him into her. She tried to be quiet about it, to not wake me up, but I did anyway. When I figured out what she was doing, I slid down and licked the place where they were joined."
"And tongue-lashed my clit!" Kayla added with glee.
"You did?" asked Michael. "I didn't even wake up!" Kayla nodded, blushing.
"So, how about it, Jenny?" asked Stacy.
Jenny looked at each of the three in turn, a doubtful expression on her face. "What the hell," she finally said with a smirk. She rose and approached Michael. He slid down in his seat, his pelvis now near the edge. Jenny turned her back to Michael and moved back, straddling his legs.
Kayla moved to kneel in front of Jenny. "Let me help you get wet," she said.
"Kayla," Jenny chuckled, "I was sitting in a puddle over there. I'm plenty wet already. Just wait a minute 'till I get settled."
"God, Jenny," Stacy squealed, looking down at where Jenny had been sitting. "You weren't lying! Look at the size of that puddle!" Jenny blushed, but giggled. Stacy made a show of licking at the puddle of girl-juice.
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