Join the best erotica focused adult social network now
Login

A Ouettecunte Family Affair: Chapter Four

"It is Claire’s first day at the Royal Academy of Fucking – and she makes a new friend."

5
1 Comment 1
1.1k Views 1.1k
3.9k words 3.9k words

Hey fuckers! The name’s Ouettecunte: Claire Ouettecunte. But I think you know that already, right? This story is all about me, see: me and my pretty wet cunt – isn’t that totally fucking?

So, Mom and Dad and Jack have at last allowed me to write a chapter. It was hard persuading them. They think I’m a bit dumb. But I think I’m just smart in different ways from them. They complain that I can’t spell or write proper English. But I have this friend to help me, see: Grusha Vashnadze, who is a proper porn-writer who can actually spell. Now, I know what you’re imagining from the name: a hot Russian whore, tall, dark, elegant, with a tight cunt ready to fuck you to hell and gone, right? Well, no, sorry, not exactly – but, I mean, we have this deal, see? Basically, I do the fucking, and Grusha does the writing. We each have our talents – so don’t diss Grusha, or me – OK?

Anyway, it’s Monday 19th September 2050, the first day of term at the Royal Academy of Fucking, London. I’m kneeling here on the floor, in the big entrance lobby, gargling a mouthful of my big brother’s cum. And I’m about to empty said mouthful of cum into the face of a pretty brunette slut who has been rubbing her cunt off while watching me suck said big brother’s dick. Fucking, huh?

So, how did I get here? Well, it’s pretty straightforward, really. Jack’s told you about my audition – which, frankly, I aced. OK, they asked me all sorts of bullshit questions – but I figured if I just fucked right they’d come over to my way of looking at things, which is, basically, just shut up and fuck – I mean, am I right or am I right? I mean, history of fucking, philosophy of fucking: who gives a fucking shit, right? Those that can, fuck; those that can’t, should fuck off and stop asking stupid questions.

Sorry, Grusha says I should get off my soapbox now. Hehe. Well, anyway, back to the audition…

I could tell by the way Dr Dick came hard on my face that he liked me. And Anna the admissions secretary gave herself a huge, noisy, four-fingered frig while watching me taking three loads of jizz. Professor Cuntslicker was more in control of herself – I get the impression she’s just like that – but, hey, she recognises quality in a fucker, doesn’t she?

So, the following Saturday morning, back in Little Dicking, the postman delivered my acceptance letter, just as me and Jack were practising – no, perfecting – our sixty-nine technique upstairs, Mom was fucking her apple Danish in the kitchen, and Dad was boning the French maid, the dental assistant, and the policewoman. The postman offered to stay and help with the fucking, actually, but Dad just took the letter and chased him away. Shame – maybe next time…

Anyway, yesterday me and Jack came up to London again on the train to get me settled in. Mom and Dad wanted to drive me up – but Jack said he wanted to get one last morning blowjob from me before I start my term. We travelled First Class Fucking, which was nice because we were sharing a compartment with a pair of big-titted girls from Bristol (yeah, where else?) – so Jack got to bone their jugs a lot. Jack doesn’t normally like titfucking me or Mum, because we’ve both got such itty-bitty boobies – so this was a special treat for him: he loved putting his cum on their big nipples and then watching them lick it off each other. Cute, huh?

So anyway, after arriving in London, we found my room, which is in a student residence just north of Regents Park, called Fuckers’ Hall. Then we had a sort of fuck-crawl around Cuntden Town, got a bit drunk, and… well, I woke up with a sticky cunt, so who knows what went on in there…

This morning, I want to look my best for my first day at the RAF. So I get Jack to help me shave my slit so it’s smooth and shiny. To be honest, he’s not much help: he just kneels between my legs ogling the pink and asking stupid questions. (“Can I stick a finger in there, sis?” Answer: “Not while I’ve got a fucking razor in my hands, dickhead!” … “Can I lick your clit, sis?” Answer: “Not unless you want me to slice your fucking tongue off!” Jesus, how dumb can guys get? It’s like, faced with a piece of hot pussy, all attempt at rational thought goes out the window – know what I mean?) But I do let Jack apply moisturiser afterwards, though he takes forever doing it (“Sure you don’t want me to rub some more in, sis – just to be on the safe side?”) He gets a big boner, of course, doing all this – but there’s no time to do anything about that now, as we have to get dressed to go. I decide to wear a tank-top and my best pair of torn jeans, with holes in all the right places (knees, ass, cunt etc.) – I mean, I did say I want to look my best, right?

The walk across the park to the Royal Academy is not far, and it’s a lovely warm morning. People are out relaxing in the sun: some picnicking, some jogging, some sitting chatting on park benches, some just fucking. That’s what I love about London: so much fucking! We pass by a bukkake party in full swing under a big oak tree. There’s a skinny dark-haired girl wearing reflective shades lying on a picnic blanket while a bunch of guys stand around jerking off onto her face. “Love the shades!” I shout out. I mean, really, that’s good planning for a bukkake party, don’t you think? Why haven’t I ever thought of that?

A bit further along, there’s a hot blonde with big tits sitting on a bench smoking a cigarette. She’s wearing a pink bikini and thigh-length latex boots, and she’s pulled her thong to one side so she can dildo her pussy. She shuts her eyes as she blows smoke-rings into the air. “Nice colour scheme!” I call out: I mean, pink bikini, pink boots, pink dildo, pink cunt – what’s not to love?

As we reach Maryleboner Road we pass a brand new city-run gloryhole station. The billboard reads:

Blowjobs provided courtesy of the City of Wankminster: only 100 euros.

and a bunch of guys are there feeding their dicks through a shiny new aluminium wall behind which lurk, presumably, a row of kneeling underpaid oral chav whores. I mean, isn’t London a great city? There’s nothing like that down in Little Dicking. Before I know it Jack’s got his dick out and is about to pay his hundred euros. “Hey, I thought I was gonna suck you off!” I complain.

“Any law against having two blowjobs in one morning?” he counters.

He has a point. “But,” I say, “I wanna eat your first load this morning. After that, if you’re still horny, you can come back here, OK…?”

Now the RAF is an amazing place. In the entrance hall there are all these photos on the walls of their various alumni fucking, plus some of the most famous fuckers of the Olden Days: Traci Lords, Ginger Lynn, Nina Hartley, Kimberly Carson… But best of all, there’s this huge mural on the back wall, of this big cock fucking a shiny pink pussy, along with the words:

Welcome to the RAF: We Train the Fuckers of the Future.

“Fuckers of the Future”? That’s me, fuck-pervs – woohoo!

So, I pick up my “National Diploma in Fucking” Welcome Pack from the reception desk, and me and Jack sit down on a couch to leaf through it. It contains a lot of glossy brochures, with pictures of people fucking in boardrooms, planes, construction sites, schools, hospitals, prisons – you get the idea… But other than that it’s rather boring, and pretty soon I am losing interest, and instead start looking around watching the lobby fill up with other students. Most of them are sitting chatting, having cups of coffee, reading or fucking.

There are two blondes on the divan opposite us doing a lesbian sixty-nine. I’ve done that with Mom a few times, and it’s really nice. But the way these girls are doing it, with one on top and the other on the bottom – well, it looks hot, but top girl is having trouble getting any further south than bottom girl’s clit, before she suffocates in the cushion. Shame: they should either swap positions more frequently, or go on their sides…

There’s a redhead over the other side of the hall lying on her back stuffing large vibrators up her asshole: clearly training her gape. Frankly, it looks painful to me. I am reassured by the fact that the prospectus for the NDF course says we’re not doing anal till the spring term – which gives me a while to get into training. The girl pulls a fist-wide dildo out of her shit-chute and stretches her ass cheeks wide so I can see deep into her rectum. “Guck mal,” I mutter. (Actually, that’s something Jack always says when he sees a really nice gaping asshole. He taught me to say it: it’s… I dunno, French or something, and it means – well, actually I don’t know what the fuck it means, but it sounds good. And Jack looks up and laughs.

The receptionist at the desk is titfucking his colleague: I can’t say I blame him, as she’s none other than Anna the admissions secretary, and she’s got lovely huge melons which jiggle and bounce all over. And the sixty-nine girls have realised now, so they’ve changed position and they’re both on their sides. Nice move, bitches!

Off to the side of the reception desk, there’s a black girl sitting on her own. Don’t see many Undesirables in this country these days. Mom says there used to be more in the Olden Days, before they started expelling them all. This girl is hot, though: she’s skinny, with big pierced tits, and a pretty face framed by her loose afro hair. For some reasons, she looks pretty miserable. I almost feel like going over to say m’ pussy or something, but Jack interrupts: “Hey, listen to this, sis-slut.” He points to a page in the Welcome Pack. “Here’s a ‘Historical Timeline of the Enlightenment’. Did you know FFT was only invented in 2023?”

“What the fuck’s FFT?”

“‘Flexible Fertility Technology’ – allowing the flawless breeding of human beings in vitro –”

“Oh? How did they used to breed human beings?” I ask.

“Don’t you know anything, sis?” chuckles Jack. But he doesn’t answer my question; instead he goes on reading:

2030 – the Great Expulsion: from the European Union, of any non-sterilised specimens of Undesirables or Objectors;

2031 – the Societal Reconstruction Act (SRA), allowing parents to select GMs for their offspring in vitro – helping to create a society where everyone is beautiful and sexy, and Pleasure is universally available;

DaylinaLop
Online Now!
Lush Cams
DaylinaLop

2035 – foundation of the Royal Academy of Fucking, to train young people in the pursuit of fucking Pleasure, and providing world-class professionals to roll out the Enlightenment vision across the Union.

“Well,” I say, “I’m glad we live in Enlightenment times. I mean, who’d want to live in a world where people are ugly or unfuckable, or where Undesirables could breed and take over? I mean…”

“Hey sis,” Jack interrupts, “according to this, your first lecture starts in half an hour’s time – in the Constance Money Fucking Laboratory, which is upstairs somewhere. You gonna give me that blowjob before I see you off?”

“Sure thing, bro. Here OK?”

“Why not?” Jack gestures around the lobby. “Lots of others doing it.” So I kneel on the floor in front of the couch, unzip Jack’s fly, and start to stroke his dick. Soon it is big and stiff, and I am gently sucking it, tasting the salty pre-cum on my tongue, feeling the shaft grow and twitch in my mouth. “Aw, fuck, Claire, you do this so good…” moans Jack.

“Even better than Mom?” I tease.

“Too fucking right…”

It is at that moment that a girl appears at the other end of our couch. Dressed in a white mini-skirt and matching halter top, she is tall and elegant, with shoulder-length light brown hair. “Okay if I sit here?” she asks. “Yeah sure sure fuck,” groans Jack distractedly. I’m not really in the right place for conversation either at the moment, but I nod my head, Jack’s cock still lodged in my face.

The girl starts leafing through her Welcome Pack, while I keep slurping at Jack’s dick. She seems fairly engrossed in her reading – until I move on to a long sensual mouthfuck, slowly nibbling my lips all the way down Jack’s cock until my tongue tickles his balls, then gradually licking the underside of his shaft as I withdraw. That’s a trick I learnt from Mom, and I know Jack likes it.

The girl looks at me, smiling and nodding with approval and, I dare say, a touch of admiration. She returns to her reading, before exclaiming out loud, “Hey, this is more like it!” Frankly, I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I look up quizzically. “Sorry – don’t let me bother you,” says the girl, as she resumes reading. I’m not sure whether she’s being ironic – but frankly, I don’t give a shit, and resume my cock-swallowing. By now I’m leaving a thick coating of slobber on Jack’s cock, which forms strings of spit which dangle and swing from my chin until they dribble down onto my tank-top.

Mom’s slow mouthfuck is OK to start off with, but now it’s time to pick up the pace, do some messy noisy shit. Jack likes the slurping and gagging, and I want to let him give me a good skullfuck before he leaves me this morning. I am aware that I may be a cause of some distraction to the brunette sharing our couch – but I try not to let it bother me too much. I mean, this is the Royal Academy of Fucking, isn’t it? If you can’t do a noisy throatfuck here, where the fuck can you?

Soon, however, guess what? The girl stops reading, drops her pack on the floor next to the couch, and hitches up her skirt to find her clit, which she begins to rub slowly and carefully, while watching me all the time. Well, fuck, whaddya know: I am a cause of distraction – fuck yeah!

The girl’s cunt is pretty – really pretty, with a neatly trimmed light brown triangular landing-strip pointing the way southwards. But I can’t spend too much time admiring her slit, as I sense Jack wants me to pick up the pace even more. Now the throatfuck has become frantic, obscene quacking noises escaping my gullet as I ram my slimy face up and down on his cock, great ropes of spit and snot flying in all directions. (Love snot, by the way! A throatfuck’s not a throatfuck without loads of snot: even better upside-down, actually, so it all dribbles into your eyes and hair – but I digress…) Soon Jack’s cock begins to rear and buck, and he begins to groan distractedly, “Oh fuck, oh yeah, oh sis, I’m gonna…”

The brunette is watching intently now, as she continues to schlick her cunt, clearly not wanting to miss the money-shot. I slow my pace slightly, clasp my lips tightly around Jack’s shaft about three quarters of the way down, cup one hand around his swollen balls, and use the other to milk his cock from the base of the shaft. “Oh fuck yeah, here it is,” Jack mutters. I feel his cock spasming in my mouth, and I squeal appreciatively, my cheeks bulging to capture his oral creampie. The other girl is coming too as she watches. “Fuuuuckkk!” she whimpers, as her hand flies across her clit. I keep grip with my lips until Jack’s cock has stopped jerking and his whole creamy load is spent into my mouth.

The girl’s sloppy frigged-out cunt is on full display, and dripping – but she looks strangely disappointed. Maybe she was hoping for a facial, and now she thinks I’m going to swallow the load without her even having sight of it. So I decide to make her happy: I turn to face her and, with as much of a smile as I can manage under the circumstances, jut out my jaw and open my mouth wide so she can see the creamy load steaming and swirling on my tongue. “Oh fuck yeah,” groans the girl, “that’s beautiful. You gonna swallow it now, pretty bitch?” But she is wrong again. Instead, I tip my head back so she can have a perfect view of the mouthful of steaming jizz, then began to gargle slowly, letting my brother’s cock-cream bubble and froth in my mouth, stirring the magic potion around with my tongue like a horny fuck-witch. “Oh fuck,” groans the girl, as her fingers find her cunt again and begin to frig her gash with full-on renewed lust.

I’m not done yet, though: I reach up with one hand, dip two digits into my oral cauldron and draw out a long gloopy string of cum, which I proceed to twirl and dangle above my open mouth, all the time looking the girl in the eye. I’m thinking, “You want some of this, don’t you?” – but I don’t need to say so out loud, for the girl understands me, and I already know what she’s thinking. I stand up and step out from between Jack’s thighs. The girl, fingers still lodged deep in her wet slit, tips her head back. I lean forward, purse my lips, and empty my slimy concoction of cum and drool into her wide-open mouth...

To continue reading this story you must be a member.

Join Now
Published 
Written by GrushaVashnadze
Loved the story?
Show your appreciation by tipping the author!

Continue Series

Alison Goes to London
Previous Story

A Ouettecunte Family Affair: Chapter Three

Get Free access to these great features

  • Create your own custom Profile
  • Share your erotic stories with the community
  • Curate your own reading list and follow authors
  • Enter exclusive competitions
  • Chat with like minded people
  • Tip your favourite authors

Comments