Same bus. Same time. Same Story. Different week.

Ever since my little encounter on the bus about a month ago, I’ve actually found myself volunteering to lock up the bar I worked in on Thursday nights – the local student night – on the off chance I’d again run into my mystery girl on the last bus running out of town.

I’d been running the experience through my head, and it had become my go-to wank fantasy, becoming a more and more horn-inspiring scenario every time I reached for the tissues.

She’d taken my number, although I’d never really expected a call; I didn’t even know the girls’ name, but sometimes a man just has to hope.

Perhaps I’d made an impression on her too; if cumming on her face hadn’t made the experience memorable for her, then nothing would. Without her phone number though, I was effectively impotent and completely in her power, so all I could do was wait, hope and take the last home on the night she was most likely to be in town.

It raised an eyebrow the first Thursday I’d volunteered to take the lock-up shift in the bar; the second week, my colleague assumed I’d lost my mind; on the third, he’d cottoned on that my unusually charitable behaviour was dick related and simply gave me a nod, following the bartenders' version of omerta.

He now left on Thursday nights, with nothing more than a look that said, ‘Remember where the cameras are!’ assuming that I screwing some woman I shouldn’t – likely a married regular – after hours in the bar, which had happened more than enough times for a non-verbal signal to exist between us.

I’d struck out though, four weeks and no joy, and now – on the fifth Thursday – I’d just fallen back into the habit of half-dozing on the last bus, rather than sitting up like a wired ferret every time the door of the bus opened to let on a new passenger.

When my phone buzzed in my pocket, I barely registered the vibrations; it did that specific double buzz though, which let me know that it was a text message I’d received, rather than any sort of social media interaction, so I pulled my phone out to take a look.

The message read, Remember me?

I checked the number; it wasn’t one I had stored, which unfortunately wasn’t unusual; like every bartender worth their salt, I knew god-knows how many people in the trade, and it was an industry where phones were lost, damaged or stolen on a remarkably frequent basis.

A strange number could be my best mate calling me off a burner phone, as easily as it could be a half-stranger hitting me up looking for a late drink or inviting me out for one. 

‘Sorry mate, you’re going to have to be a bit more specific…’ I fired off in return.

The phone buzzed again, almost instantly vibrating for a second time, signalling a quick follow up message.

If I’d been half-asleep on the empty bus, message one rectified that; it was a selfie of a pretty twenty-something blonde with cum splashed on one side of her face. The follow-up text read, Sure you don’t remember me?

Oh – I think I’ve seen your face before somewhere, I replied, re-checking the spelling a half-a-dozen times, feeling my heart start-up like a drum before hitting the [SEND] key.

There was no delay in the response, Can you guess what I’m doing?

Afraid of guessing wrong, I tried to buy a little clue, ‘Well, you’re not on the bus…’

No, the message came back with a whole succession of smiley-face emojis, ‘but we are playing Truth or Dare again.’

My pulse went up another notch, and I could feel it beating in more places than just my chest now. ‘Great game!’ I fired send back, just as quickly as my fingers could touch the keys.

In the small delay between texts, I saved the random number to my phone as: [Bus Girl!!!].

Oh, you like? she asked, followed by a series of emojis that, beyond the occasional smiley-face, I was at a loss to translate.

Rather than fuck around colons and close-parenthesis, I sent the smiley-face I had saved on my phone, which had been the focus of so much of my recent personal time -  the picture I’d snapped of the girls’ smiley cum-stained face.

I followed up with my own text, Yes – I like that game.

You bastard, she texted back, echoing the words she’d used lustily after I’d cum her face without warning.

I didn’t send an instant reply, my eyes caught by the two images in my message trial; in the grand scheme of things, I think I could be forgiven for being a bit distracted – it was my cum on the pretty girls’ face after all.

My phone vibrated again in my hand, snapping reality into focus, Wanna play again?

All thoughts of trying to play it cool were lost as I read the question, with ‘Fuck, Yes!’ being the response I sent back.

A full minute must have passed, which felt like a life sentence in horny bloke time until the girls’ reply came in.

OK – well, I get to go first, so: I DARE you to stay on your bus, she’d clearly guessed that I was on the same bus route home again, until you get to stop 137@Colebridge Road.

I started to formulate a response. Even given the circumstances, it was actually quite a big ask; the stop she mentioned was about thirty minutes past my own, and there’d be no bus coming back towards my flat and even less chance of calling an Uber out so far from the nearest town at this time of night.

Fuck it – I decided to gamble and risk a night walking home without a coat in the winter cold. About the only thing I really knew about the Colebridge Road area was there was a shit load of student accommodation out that way – it was worth the risks.

I started typing a response, but my phone buzzed with follow up instructions, DON’T message me again unless you complete your DARE - when you get to the bus stop, text me back and tell me what colour the bench is there – get it wrong, or text me without the answer and I’ll block your number.

 I hesitated, frozen, even as the bus skated past my stop – well, there was no turning back now.  

As I sat on the bus, I wasted the time to my new destination by flicking between the two photographs I had of the girl; fantasising about what was waiting for me at the bus stop and allowing my cock to harden with memories of the girls’ previous promise to suck me off.

Even if her only plan was to give me a quick blow job at the bus stop, it would be totally worth it.

Thirty minutes along the road, I hit the bell to request the bus stop and disembarked with my cock halfway hard, which I did my best to hide with a limp, as I walked past the driver, jumping off at what was basically a shelter of the side of a busy road.

The sound of the bus pulling off and shifting gear perfectly punctuated the deflating of my cock and ego as I took in that the stop really was just a shelter with a bin – there wasn’t a fucking bench of any colour!?

Had I got off at the wrong fucking stop?! The fucking sign was right there though, definitely stop 137.

My blood started to rise again, only this time in anger, convinced that the girl had played me; I grabbed my phone and fired off, There isn’t a fucking bench here.

I checked for typos, seeing that my tone sounded like a pissed off child, but sent off the text anyway.

The phone buzzed straight away, That's right! – We thought you weren’t cumming!

I calmed myself and tried for a more flirty message, Yeah, it took me longer to get off than I was expecting.

The girls’ reply was a message filled with smiley-face and aubergine emojis, and the text Funny! - Well, it’s your go – I pick TRUTH.

Truth? – Well, there was only one thing I wanted to know about her, Where are you?

I expected there to be a gap before the girl got back to me with some, hopefully very detailed, instructions as to where she was, so I was surprised when my phone buzzed again, opening the new message before my eyes had even taken in the screen.

Rather than a message, my phone showed a GPS dot.

Not sure if I was allowed to replay this time, I just set off following the blue line outlined by my phone's mapping app. The way took about ten mins and led to a nice looking apartment block about five stories high, set back secluded from the passing main road.

Unfortunately, my progress was barred by a high fence set between me and the building I was aiming for.

There would obviously be a gate in it somewhere, but given the rules for the bus stop, I figured this was the place to send the girl a message, OK - I’m at your dot?

I DARE you to climb that fence and the fire escape stairs, I looked up, seeing the fire escape for the first time, judging the fence to be about ten feet high, the fourth-floor fire escape door is open; you have ten minutes to complete your DARE, or the fire escape door will be pulled closed.

I glanced at the fence, it wasn’t barbwire tipped or anything like that, and I was up and over it in no time, even with my cock distracting the effort.

I was more measured taking the fire escape stairs; it was late – well after midnight now – and I was afraid of waking someone and getting caught.

Presumably, this was some sort of closed University accommodation – the girl had mentioned that she lived in halls during our encounter on the bus – so maybe they were used by guests taking the back way in, but I didn’t want to risk it.  

On the fourth floor, I found the fire escape door was subtly pushed open and slipped inside, pulling the bar fired door closed behind me.

The corridor was deserted, but there were about a dozen rooms, What room number is yours? I texted the girl.

The replay was instant, Silly boy - you should have picked DARE – but the TRUTH is my room is 402.

Dare? – I should have dared the girl to do what? – Come out naked to the corridor… shit, I should have dared her to come out naked into the corridor - still, at least I knew what room she was in now.

I followed the numbered rooms and pushed at the door to 402, which was on the latch, and I slipped straight in, locking the door behind me as I had with the fire escape.  

Beside the entrance, there was a closed-door to what I assumed was an en-suite bathroom and beyond that was a large double bedroom, with two single beds pushed against either wall, a pair of small desks set under the window, with various other pieces of future set around the room, for the most part, indistinguishable from one another, due to the piles of women's clothing scattered all over the room.

I took in the room in a single glance before my eyes settled onto the reason I’d made the journey.

The girl was sitting crossed-legged on the floor, rather than being dressed for the cold, as she had been when we’d met, she was now dressed for bed; in a thin blue sleeveless strap-top and matching pair of shorts.

Both items were almost see-thru, and while I couldn’t exactly make out her body beneath them, I could see that she wasn’t wearing another layer. Her top perfectly framed her, I’d guess, C-cup breasts, which came complete with a pair of very erect nipples and a flat toned stomach.

On the bus, I’d only been able to see her beautiful face, grey-blue eyes and blonde hair, but now I took in her entire body, and it was exactly the image of every wank fantasy I’d been living out since we’d met that first time.

My eyes settled naturally on her shorts; the way she sat crossed-legged on the floor had pulled the shorts against her lips and clit; just a small twitch with a finger – or the head of a hard cock – would be enough to expose her pussy.

The erection I’d been fighting since she’d started texting me won out against my self-control, and I felt myself lengthening inside my jeans.

Stepping further into the room, it was obvious the girl had been waiting for me and had surely set her pose, perhaps going so far as to make sure her nipples stood out like bullets, even in the sweltering heat of her bedroom.

“I was waiting for you,” she said, smiling up at me and taking a sip from the can of cheap cider she’d been drinking from. “I’m glad you came.”

Her eyes travelled from my face, assessing my body as I had hers, making me glad I’d been working out hard these past few months.

When the girls' gaze settled on the shape of my only nominally concealed erection, clearly visible as it was through the fabric of my jeans, I felt no embarrassment; she’d seen it before, and I knew had been impressed by what I could bring to the party – it had probably gone some way to earning my invitation over tonight.

Trying to stay calm and keep things light and gamey, I said, “I haven’t yet.”

The girl sipped her can and again, licking her lips before answering, “No?”

I’d caught the flick of her tongue and think I saw a fidget in her posture as she sat.

I’d waited long enough – more than four weeks, in fact - so said exactly what was on my mind, “I’ll show you mine If you show me yours.”

Her smile was wicked, “Is that a DARE?”

“Yes,” the word was out my mouth before I’d even formulated a thought, and I silently cursed myself for not pushing further; would she suck my cock if I dared her too?

There wasn’t even a second to change my mind; without hesitation, the girl reached down and pulled her shorts to one side - exactly as I had fantasied of doing - exposing herself to me.

Her pussy was small, shaved bald, with wet lips and the bud of her clit sitting prominently above them. She’d talked like a slut on the bus, but that wasn’t the image that greeted me now I could actually see inside her pants.

Even from a few paces away, I could see how wet and aroused she was, and even in that state, it was going to be very tight if I was lucky enough to get my cock inside.

I might literally have been drooling with lust, which the girl raised another pitch by gently rubbing up and down the lips of pussy; teasing me by letting the barest tip of her index finger slip inside before taking that wet finger and circling it around her clit.

My single-mindedness was broken as she pulled her shorts back into place – if barely covering herself could be considered in place.

A moan of longing escaped me, which made the girl laugh, drawing my gaze again to her face, although it lingered on her breasts as it made the journey.

“You like?” the girl asked; I nodded dumbstruck, which only encouraged her and she sucked on the index finger that had been inside her pussy.

“Oh, fuck…” I wanted to use her name but thought better of asking in fear that the spell cast over us would be broken if we knew each other's names. Instead, I answered, “Yes, I like.”

The girl stood, gifting a brief glance at her pussy again, with her change of posture, which also pulled the blue top tighter against her breasts, revealing they were bigger than I’d previously guessed at; certainly large enough to bring my cock off.

Silently, I added, Tit Wank, to the list of DAREs I’d been compiling since she’d flashed me her pussy, and I truly understood just how far she was willing to take our game.

From one of the piles of clothes, the girl plucked a long thin satin scarf, holding it up for me to see, asking, “Hands or eyes?”

Hands or eyes? – God, I thought I’d known torment before, but this took its meaning to a level I’d never imaged; to see and not to touch or to feel and be blind?

“Hands,” I answered.

The girl smiled wickedly at my choice; whether she thought I’d made the correct one wasn’t obvious, but from my perspective, I didn’t believe there was a wrong option.

“OK,” she said, “I DARE you…”

I had my own dirty smile and cut across her, “No, I think it’s my turn,” my list of DARE’s for her would now reach a second if written down, and I wanted to start ticking items off, “I answered your question.”

She smiled, pulling out one of the desk chairs and turning it to face me. “Exactly,” she chided me, “that was a question; I didn’t say TRUTH or DARE.”

Well, I could argue the point – if I was some sort of fucking idiot. “My mistake,” I answered, stepping across the room close enough to take in her scent, which would drive even stronger willed men wild.

The girl placed a hand on my chest, squeezing the muscle there as she stopped my approach, “I DARE you to sit on the chair and not to cum.”

She stood aside and drew me forward. I didn’t hesitate a moment sitting down; even if I failed her DARE, I’d still win.

Stepping behind me, the girl took my wrists in turn, drawing them behind my back, tying my hands behind me and to the chair. I felt no fear, sure I could break away if I need to, and sure the girl had deliberately tied my binds loosely; her actions a sexy kink, more a deterrent to action rather than any true preventative.

She came around to stand in front of me again and admired her handy work. “What was it you said?” she asked me with a wicked smile, “’I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

My cock was literary straining against the leg of my trousers; I could feel a wet spot where I’d been leaking pre-cum at various times since she’d started texting me.

“I would follow through, but I’m a little tied up,” my words sounded like a naff line from an old Bond movie, but I was beyond clear thought; my cock was now so hard it made subtle wordplay near impossible.

Using her foot, she pushed my legs apart, spreading them as I sat, “You don’t mind?”

Rather than answering, I repositioned myself as I sat tied, bringing my crotch forward more prominently, allowing her better access.

My meaning obvious, the girl smiled, stepping forward, bending slightly at the waist, which brought the depths of her cleavage directly into my eye line.

Eyes flickering back and forth rapidly, between the shape of the girl's breasts – oh so close to my face –  and her hand as she roughly went to work on my clothes, I gasped at the feeling, as she pulled my cock free.

I was hard already, sticky and wet with the precum that I’d been leaking periodically, and the girl couldn’t help but get it on her hands, as she used both to pull my cock and balls through the gap in my flies – recreating the scene as it had been set on the bus.

Clearly, she was also struggling to maintain the tease and slow build-up of the game we’d been playing and couldn’t resist cupping my balls in her hands, squeezing and caressing them lightly, before gipping my fully hard shaft; first with one hand, then placing the other on top, to just leave the head of my cock standing exposed above her two-handed grip.

“I was a bit drunk last time,” she said, squeezing the shaft of my cock and feeling the full extent of my unusual girth while her eyes focused on my free and wet head. “I remembered it was big – thick, I mean; really thick –  but I think I was drunker than I realised.”

Rather than wank on my shaft, she twisted her hands slowly around it, back and forward, her left and right hands moving in opposing directions. It felt amazing; with her tits so close to my face and the twisting friction motion on cock - even the way my own hands were tied behind my back – had brought me close to the edge.

I remembered the DARE – don’t cum – and didn’t want the game to end yet. To try and distract myself and hold back the inevitable, I said, “You also told me that your boyfriend was very small.”

“Did I?” She asked, not looking up; her eyes completely focused on the pulsing head of my cock, which was leaking a steady stream now. I ached for her to bend lower and suck on the head. “Well, compared to you, my boyfriend is tiny and thin.”

“You told me,” my words caught, as the girl reversed the rotation of her twisting hands, “that you could only really feel him when fucked your arse.”

She answered in a voice that might have come from a million miles away, “That’s true.”

“You pussy looked so tight though,” I said, the image of her shaved, wet, little pussy swimming across my reality, even as I stared at her firm breasts, with their hard nipples standing as erect as my cock.

The way both the girl's hands were wrapped around me, with my full cock head still showing, made me feel bigger than I ever had before, but it was her eyes that really drove me wild.

They were bringing me to the edge; so intense was their focus on my cock, I could tell she was running through her own list of all the things she wanted to do and could barely contain the frustration.

“Do you cum like that all the time?” She asked.

I thought that she was mistaking the way I was leaking copious amounts of pre-cum for a genuine orgasm, “That’s just pre-cum; I’m incredibly turned on.”

“Yes, I see that,” I gasped as she released my cock, which strained, once twice and a third time, desperate for the return of the pressure she’d been applying.

The girl straightened and took a couple of steps back, clearly to bolster her own restraint, before looking me in the face, “I meant; cum like you did on the bus? - My friends didn’t believe me; they were certain I’d sucked you off.”

Finishing her thought, she said, “I’ve never seen a guy cum so much or so hard.”

“You turn me on,” I explained simply; my cock was speaking louder than any words. “If you finish me off, I’ll probably cum harder this time.”

She shook her head, but I knew she wanted to, “But if you cum you’ll fail your DARE and will have to do a forfeit.”

‘Forfeit?’ – There’d be no mention of that; not that it mattered now, I was at the stage where there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do or give to be able to cum.

My mind was gone, “OK, but wasn’t there a, I’ll show you mine you show me yours,’ rule; aren’t you failing that DARE?

“Oh, silly me,” she said, her smile returning to full beam, as she locked eyes with me, bending forward from the waist, to slip her shorts down in a single fluid motion.

Given half the chance, I’d have begged for her to turn around, so I could have seen that action from behind; her arse was the only part of her I hadn’t been able to take in the shape of, and I was desperate to see it.

As the girl straightened to step out of the shorts, she playfully flicked them up and across the room, where they landed on my knee. “Oh, no - I missed!” She said with a wink.  

I laughed at that, my hands straining, reminding me they were tied, as I reacted, intent on catching her shorts, wrapping them around my cock, and bringing myself off all over them.

Smiling, the girl sat back on her bed – well, one of the beds – lent back and brought her knees up, mirroring my spread legged posture, to perfectly frame her wet pussy.

She looked incredible, but I wanted more, “Can I see your tits?”

It sounded brutal, but I didn’t care; my cock was so hard it was literally weeping.

She smiled, settling back against the wall, and placing a hand between her legs, “No, the rule was, ‘you show yours… ‘ and you’ve still your top on.”

“I’m tied up though, I can’t take my shirt off,” I said, only half hearing the words, my eyes now fixed on the hand with which she was gently massaging her pussy.

With her free hand, she cupped a breast, accentuating its true size and squeezing the nipple. Her voice was husky, filled with desire, “Well, you should have thought about that before.”

Her eyes were locked on me, staring at my cock, which was still rock-hard, leaking, straining and twitching - absolutely desperate to cum.

Watching the girl slowly begin to masturbate, while I couldn’t do the same, just made me all the more desperate – I honestly felt as though I was going to pop hands-free, which was something I always believed was a myth.

“Have you been thinking about me,” she spread her pussy lips with her fingers, giving me my first clear view of her tight little hole. Panting a little, she finished, “since that night on the bus?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

She spread the lips of her pussy wider, and I could see that how moist she was; a droplet bubbled up and slipped away to drip down towards her bedsheets, “Do you want this?”

“Oh, fuck yes,” I groaned in answer, twitching and flexing my cock; desperately trying to get myself off without being able to touch my cock.

The frantic straining of my erection was impossible for the girl to miss, and her attention honed right in on it. Slipping the tip of her index finger into her pussy, she placed her palm and hand against her clit.

She started rubbing her clit and lips of pussy, as she fingered herself, with a shuddering vibrating motion that I’d never seen a woman use to masturbate before,

“You were wanking that big cock to me?” she asked, her voice husky, an orgasm not far off. “Tell me what you were thinking about?”

“I imagined you sucking my cock on the bus home. Having you on your knees in front of me and forcing my cock in your mouth. Holding your hair, as I used and fucked your mouth; faster and faster; feeling your lips… your mouth… your throat sucking me off, swallowing my cum as I exploded - over and over - into your mouth.”

The cadence of my speech increased in speed to match the pace at which the girl was masturbating; although whether I was driving her to fuck herself harder, or she was making me tell my story more frantically, I don’t know.

“Oh, Baby,” she panted, her eyes watering; I could see how she was desperately holding off, trying to build up her orgasm, “I always swallow.”

“I know, you told me,” I answered, desperate for her to prove it.

“Fuck,” she moaned loudly and may even have cum, but gave no further sign if she had; rather, she pressed her palm against her clit harder and pushed her middle finger even deeper inside her pussy, to masturbate harder.

She was panting hard when she found her voice again, “What else did I tell you?”

“That you like it in the arse; that you always do anal,” I was moaning too, my cock in pain; even if she was to blow on it, I think I’d have cum.”

“I do,” her eyes drew me in, “I save my pussy for my boyfriend.”

My eyes went to her hand, which was now as wet as my leaking cock, and the fact that she was only using one finger inside herself; I was desperate to push my cock in there and feel how tight she was. “You told me,” I breathed.

I could see that she’d gone too far and was going hard at her pussy, while kneading her breasts almost; there’d be no stopping for her now.

She managed another question, “And you expect me to take that pole up my arse? – Let you ride me with that thick cock, until your ready to dump your cum in me,” she was speaking to herself, the motion of the hand between her legs a near blur.“Would you pull it out and make me swallow your load or drive it as deep as you could and finish in my arse?”

I didn’t answer; I was totally hypnotised, knowing she was about to cum.

“Please, Baby,” she was almost breathless as she spoke, “finish me off; tell me where?”

Honestly, nearly every time I’d jerked off to the picture of her I’d saved on my phone, I Imagined looking into her eyes as she swallowed me, but instead, I answered with what I thought she wanted to hear, “In your arse.”

As I gave my answer, she drove a second finger into her pussy and seemed to grip her whole mound, and began bucking her hips up against that hard grip.

“Fuuuck..” the word, was loud and long, her face was transported into wildest ecstasy as she came all over the bedsheets

I was beyond desperate and yanked at the bonds tying me to the chair, only realising for the first time just how securely I had really been bound.

I started thrusting my hips as if my cock really was inside of her, and I was using it to finish her off – instead of manically fucking the air.

Not once throughout the whole of her orgasm did she take eyes off of my oozing cock; even as the precum went flying at my own frantic movements, it only seemed to make her wilder – until she stopped moving her palm, her face a picture I’d remember always.

“What were you thinking about at the end?” I asked, my voice like a desperate teenager.

She smiled, in a dreamy post-orgasmic haze, “You holding me down and just screwing the arse off me.”

“You really like anal that much?”

She shook her head, “Not always, but your bigger than I’ve ever had there, and I know that you cum hard; I want to feel that inside me.”

“You can,” I said instantly; pleading, begging – near crying – I needed her to get me off

“If you cum there’s a forfeit,” she said, the haze leaving her, and she sat a little straighter.

My answer was simple, “I don’t care.”

There was so much tease in her motion as she slipped down from the bed and came to kneel before my spread legs.

Looking me in the eye, she said, “Are you sure; the next game might be better?”

“I don’t care,” I repeated, imploring her.

She smiled, gave me a small nod, and then gripped the shaft of my hard, sticky cock, one hand above the other, as she had before, and licked the tip a few times, almost kissing it, before wrapping her lips over the head and covering the distances that weren’t beneath her hands, to suck and lick on the head, as she resumed the twisting hand stimulation she’d used before.

It was too much; I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and it didn’t even last five seconds before I exploded in her mouth.

I gave no warning; I was in a place beyond words and came so hard that she coughed, choked, tried to swallow, but had to spit a mouthful of cum all over her hands that were wrapped tight on the shaft of my cock.

The girl never hesitated though, and swallowed the second mouthful, and then the third – more and more - sucking harder and taking everything I had – swallowing it all apart from the initial hit which she’d choked on and spat out.

I'd stopped cumming, but was still fully hard;  as she took her mouth off me, I was able to open my eyes again and found that she was looking me directly in the eyes; licking my cum from one hand and finishing the job of swallowing me just as she’d promised to do.

Her face was a picture of joy; she looked to be in almost the same place as when she’d had her own orgasm.

Holding my cock in one hand and waving it at me, she asked, “Does it always do that?”

“I usually cum a lot,” I answered, “more than most guys I’ve been told, but that was utterly insane.”

She smiled; I think as much at my honestly as anything else.

“Actually,” she clarified, wagging my still rubbery hard cock at me, “I meant stay hard like this; I’ve seen big cocks in porn stay hard after cumming, but I thought they took pills or something.”

“First time,” I admitted. “I usually recover quickly, but I’ve never been with a girl like you before.”

I spoke without thinking about the words, but it was exactly what she wanted to hear, and she beamed a smile at me that was more dazzling than any I’d seen from her.

She stood, pushed my legs together, and sat straddling me on my lap, pushing my cock up and between us to offset the chance that my slick cock and her wet pussy might make take the path of least resistance to connect with each other.

She stroked my hair, her face closer to my own than we’d ever been, “I believe you mean that, and because you said it, I’ll give you a second chance.”

I breathed in, taking in the scent of skin, staying silent - hoping that she would kiss me.

“You have to do your forfeit before the next DARE though.”

“OK,” I agreed, sure I'd do anything for her.

She bought her hand – the one with cum still on it - up to my lips and her intention was clear; I was unresisting as pushed her fingers into my mouth, forcing me to taste cum, stroking my hair and staring pleadingly into my eyes, encouraging me to suck and swallow, which I did without resisting, barely tasting anything other than bitter salt.

“Good boy,” she purred. “I knew you would.”

She placed her hands around my neck and kissed me for the first, with the sort of passion I’d only believed existed in movies.

A noise demanded my attention - I heard the door to the bathroom being shut deliberately hard, which caused me to break our kiss.

“Don’t worry, it’s just my roommate,” she whispered in my ear while kissing it. “She was in there the whole time listening to us.”

I didn’t know what to think; I was still fully hard and tied to a chair, logical thought was beyond me.

The girl bit my neck, hard enough to mark. “Do you know what she DARE’d me?” she whispered.

“No,” the volume of my voice had dropped too.

“To make you swallow your own cum…”

“Oh…” I didn’t know what to say.

Once again, I decided I’d come too far, “What happens now?”

The girl kissed me again and roughly gripped my cock, reminding us both what this was really about, “You get to pick the next DARE…”

[End of Part-2]