YOU FUCK’EN GUYS RUINED MY PUSSY
(REVENGE)
If you’ve read story
, you know about Professor Robert McGill’s missus, Marylyn. Before their May-December wedding, McGill had twenty-five years on the babe. She was a good-looking American dream boat, with blond hair, bangs down to the edge of her big eyes, two large breasts that reached out to every man’s imagination, a few well-placed freckles, a cute little nose, and luckily for Professor Robert, she had been his former grad student.
Having spent long hours helping the babe with her with her master’s thesis he’d had every opportunity to groom the young lady and make himself appear desirable. Robert had money, although he was as tight as a Scotsman hoarding his haggis. He had status and full tenure when they married. What was most appealing to the young miss was the diminutive size of his tadger (Scottish for wee-wee). When after a few Martinis, Bob finally got his tadger into her fud (Scottish for cunt), she hardly knew he was there except for the pineapple tears his dicky–boy left behind after his tadger exited her fud.
.
The professor was well aware of his fiancee’s consensual sexual encounter with four well-endowed college frat boys. Her unfortunate experience was a legend known by just about every student who attended Gravity University, in San Diego. The legend, in brief, was of four well-hung jocks who set out one night, to open up a coed’s vaginal channel wide enough, as one said,
“When I’m done with your cunt, you can go down to Tijuana, get fucked by a donkey, and get all your drinks for free,”
So said a guy with a beer-can dick attempting to ream her vaginal channel as wide as the Panama Canal.
Marylyn, the name she preferred to be called, as her childhood name reminded her of the boys who taunted her while she permitted them to gang-rape her at the behest of her boyfriend. Otto believed it was his sacred obligation to share her pussy with his frat brothers. Otto gaslighted Marylyn into thinking this was a normal request. He insisted she prove her love by performance. Foolishly, she trusted her boyfriend and agreed to his sordid request, not knowing it would create a life-changing alteration of her genitalia and damage her psychologically for years to come.
The professor knew her sexual history, which she confessed in tears. The story elicited a strong boner. Bob believed he could manipulate her into being his sex object. He assumed she’d be grateful to marry a man who’d accept all her baggage. The professor, a voyeur, found the story of her sexual ordeal very exciting. By the time she finished her confession, he’d cum all over himself.
Here is a recap of Marylyn’s unfortunate sexual history.
Otto-“Tonight is your chance to prove how much you love me.”
“You know I love you,” said Marylyn.”
“I’m trying to tell you, tonight you have to have sex with four of my frat brothers.”
“How can you ask me that?”
“If you love, you will obey me. Do you love me?”
“Yes.”
“Will you let my fraternity brothers fuck you? It will come down so quickly you will hardly know you’ve been barebacked?”
“Barebacked, can’t they wear a condom?
“They don’t like condoms, it kills the sensation, and you’re on the pill so what difference does it make?”
If I let them fuck me bareback, will that make you love me more?”
“Of course it will.”
“Do you think they would be satisfied with a super blowjob?”
“I doubt it, but you can ask.”
Otto walked her up to his frat house bedroom and surprised her by saying,
“I’ll fuck you first, but from the rear, doggy style.”
Marylyn rolled over onto her belly and lifted her thighs, awaiting Otto’s vaginal penetration, passing his cock between her legs past her ass crack. Otto spat on his cock and started working it into her tight asshole.
“What are you doing? I thought we were doing doggy.”
“Oh sweetheart, I gotta keep your cunt clean for the brothers,” and with a few deep shoves, he painfully seated most of his shaft inside her butt and just about split her ass in half. Otto was as normal as a 9-inch cock can be when it gets jammed tight in your asshole.
Marylyn let out a yell. She had never felt such pain. After a few deep thrusts, Otto ejaculated and quickly pulled out, which exacerbated the injury. He grabbed her white panties to wipe off his poopy dick and threw the ripe garment in the trash can, announcing in a loud voice,
“The frat guys are here.”
“I don’t want any introduction,” said Marylyn. “Just let them fuck me and get gone. Can you give me a damp washcloth, Otto, you made a mess of my ass. You didn’t even give me a chance to douche.”
Once she wiped her butt clean, Marylyn rolled onto her back. When she looked up, she was embarrassed realizing the four guys lined up at the side of the bed had witnessed Otto butt fuck her.
Jo-Jo said to Otto, “I ain’t fucking into your cum leavings.”
“She’s clean. Jo-Jo, I butt fucked her knowing you are a fussy fucker.”
“I’m not fussy, kaçak bahis I just don’t dip my wick in another guy’s cum juice,” said the big lineman, “but as long as her pussy is clean I’ll fuck her.”
“Oh thanks for that,” said Marylyn.
“That snarky comment is gonna be paid for,” said Jo-Jo as he
climbed on top, his hairy muscular chest pressed against her large mammaries as he tried to shove his big dick into Marylyn’s tight pussy.
Marylyn shouted to Otto, “Give me some lube; this guy’s dick is huge.”
Otto found a jar of Vaseline, and Jo-Jo lubed up with the yellow grease, smearing his wide big cock and balls.
“Please go slow,” whimpered Marylyn.
“I’ll go as I see fit, I don’t take orders from the bitch I’m fucking.”
Jo-Jo had no intention of rushing. He intended to take his time, twisting and turning slowly giving her the ‘old in and out’ with his big dick. He had no consideration for the injury he was causing.
Marylyn gasped, her eyes teared up with the big man’s powerful penis thrusts. The pain was extreme. Thankfully, three minutes later, Jo-Jo’s balls triggered his cum button, and he shot a massive load. Marylyn thought her grief was over, but the mastodon cock continued to thrust into her wet cum filled pussy intent on opening her as wide as possible. This ordeal went on for the next five minutes until his dick softened.
By the time Jo-Jo finished his demonic attack, the college student’s once-tight pussy was as loose as a goose. When Jo-Jo extracted his shovel-headed cock, his sperm splashed over Marylyn’s thighs and belly leaving her wet and humiliated.
Jo-Jo added insult to injury announcing to his fellow marauders,
“I own this cunt, and you guys get sloppy seconds. You ought to thank me for opening up the bitch’s tight pussy.”
Harry, next in line, refused to lube, saying
“She’s already cum-lubed, there is no need to grease up my dick.”
Harry pulled Marylyn’s legs further apart and pointed his long thin ten-inch dick high into her hairless mound but instead of his cock, he shoved both his balls inside, deep between her butterfly labia.”
Marylyn was relieved for the moment, even with his two balls stretching her tight entry it wasn’t that painful.
“Are you finished,” she asked.
“Oh no, I’m just getting started by balling you, now I’m gonna fuck you.”
After his balls had a pussy cum bath, Harry pulled them out and inserted his big hard-on into her cavern. Marylyn cried out in pain as he hammered her entrance.
“Go slow, you fucker; I ain’t no piece of meat.”
“For me, you are. You, my bitch,” said Harry with the exactitude of a sculpture carving a cunt out of marble.
Marylyn’s sounds of agony furthered Harry’s excitement. With his cock deep inside her loose pussy, he chewed her nipples till she cried out, and then he ejaculated. Marlyn’s cunt was overflowing in the sea from both men’s semen. To her relief, Harry finally pulled out.
George, next in line, piped up, “Dear lady, my dick is so tiny you won’t even feel it,” but George was a famous liar.
As Harry lifted his weight off of her large tits, George lept on top as if a trapeze artist. With the force of gravity and his weight, he flew through the air and jammed his seven-inch beer can cock inside her, ripping sections of her once beautiful butterfly labia.
Mary screamed,
“You’re too big,” she muttered and cried out as George tore her cunt apart, sucking up the terrible pain out of her love of Otto.
Content with his forced entry, George set to work to widen the trench, reaching down with his hand, he gripped his cock where the staff met his belly and gyrated his dick in a circular motion to produce lasting damage. Saying,
“Honeybunch, when I’m done laying pipe, your sluice will be so wide you can go down to Tijuana and let a donkey fuck you and get all your drinks for free,”
Mary grimaced at George’s inappropriate remark, but she never forgot it and it plagued her for many years. Was that who she was, ‘Miss Donkey cunt?’ Should she have consented to this restructuring, just because her boyfriend gaslighted her? Is this what she should be doing? By now the damage was done. Sweet tears would not shrink her pussy back to its previous state of perfection.
George continued his assault for twenty minutes before sighing,
“I can’t go on any longer, it’s time to cum in yo puss, babe,” and his beer-can dick spurted a healthy dollop of fresh sperm into her already overflowing cum swollen vulva.
The next batter up was Willie. Catching her breath, Marylyn asked,
“How about a blow job,” hoping to bring this painful ordeal to an end. “
“We can start there,” said Willie, “I’d love to see your big blue eyes with my blimpy in between your sexy lips, but if I can’t cum in your mouth, I gotta finish in your pussy.”
Mary took a good look at his black dick; it was circumcised and was an average six or seven inches long. Willie’s tool was a rigid, speckled, cock textured like the bark bedava bahis on an oak tree.
Marylyn took his dick in her mouth, swirling her tongue around his rough-sided shaft, licking his frenulum while massaging his balls. Minutes passed, and Mary grew comfortable sucking Will’s dick, pleased with the pleasant taste of pre-cum leaking into her mouth.
She paused for a moment, “
Ah, OK, Willie, can I ask you something?”
“Sure sugar.”
“The sides of your dick shaft seem to be covered with calluses.”
“Yeah, that’s cause I jerk off a few times a day, but I can see I ain’t gonna cum in your mouth so it would be best if you turn over, Babe, cause I’m coming in the back way.”
“Please, not in my ass?”
“No, in your pussy, just relax. I like slipping and sliding under your ass crack. Since my dick ain’t too long, you gotta lift your butt so your vag lips can meet my dick halfway.”
Now Marylyn was no longer protesting; her pussy was numb. She rolled over, reached back, took his callused dick in her hand, and guided it into her oversized orifice, hardly feeling it inside her.
” I’m fucking in a swimming pool of cum,” said Willie.
“Let me help,” said the victim, and clenched his root tightly, fearing that if her penetrator lost his erection, they’d have to start over. With the aid of her tight index finger curled around the base of his cock shaft, Willie firmed up and began to make progress. Marylyn could feel contractions in his codpiece and his callused shaft, like a carpenter’s file, was roughing her numb opening wider, smoothing out what was left of her once lacy labia.
Anxious to get him on his way, Marylyn jammed her third finger in his sticky tight asshole. Willie let out a moan and a high-pitched yodel, “Success.” He shot his load into her swollen cavity. When the hot cum hit her tender flesh Marylyn finally climaxed. The soothing pleasure of Willie’s emission eased the burning and destruction the other super dicks had wrought. At least some pleasure had finally arrived for the victim.
As her suitor stepped away, Marylyn, looked down at her private parts. She saw her beautiful cunt was ruined. Her private parts were swollen, and bruised, with a gooey red exudate where her lacy labia once had been. Her tiny slit was now a horrid gaping hole as if awaiting a flagpole to be inserted. It was as if her once tight cunt cried out to the four destroyers,
“You fuck’en guys ruined my pussy.”
“Yeah, ” remarked one of them, “We are the four horsemen of the apocalypse cunt,” and they laughed in a hideous chortle.
THE AFTERMATH
Such were the events that altered Marylyn’s physical and mental state, her self-esteem, and the unwanted enlargement of her sexual receptor. As awful as this event was, her curiosity about mating with a donkey lay vegetating somewhere at the back of her cerebral cortex, producing only a silent hum when her pussy was called into action for a weekly stroll by her husband’s tiny cock.
Marylyn understood that the reason she married the Professor was because of his diminutive genitalia. She could hardly feel his exuberant weekly ramblings in her nest and on more than one occasion she remarked,
“Oh, are you still in there,” which didn’t help her husband complete his mission or bolster his confidence?”
The winter that year Connecticut was as cold as the proverbial ‘witch’s tit.’ Marylyn dreamed of a warm summer vacation, and when, without her knowledge, her hubby accepted an opportunity to travel, all fees paid, to Mexico City to speak and discuss his favorite subject with graduate students. McGill’s speciality was the famous writer, David Foster Wallace.
Who the fuck was David Foster Wallace? The ‘genius’ was born on February 21, 1962, in Ithaca, NY. He was a swinger who ended his short life at the end of a rope, hanging himself on the rear porch of his home. His wife discovered him hanging there and cut him down, fearing she’d broken both his knees in the fall.
It didn’t matter, Davy boy was stone cold and only forty-six years old. His walking days were over. His labors were finished. He left boxes of his writings that were eventually cobbled into a manuscript. His previously published opus, ‘Infinite Jest,’ a title he swiped from the Elizabethan bard, ranked him among the top American writers. Many people bought his best-selling novel, ‘Infinite Jest,” but only a few have the perseverance to finish 1000 plus pages. The book lauded by some and discarded by many was a semi-autobiographical meandering of his life as a juvenile tennis player/wunderkind’s voyage through drugs, sex, and the author’s neurotic posturing.
Why did he off himself? Well sweet readers, if you ever experienced extreme depression, you’d understand that death was an easy way out. His drugs had stopped working and he just could not rise above the wave of depression and Wallace was caught in the undertow. Enough of Wallace, let’s return to our story (UFGRMP
).
Those who observed Marylyn and Bob assumed they were kazandıran bahis siteleri a happy couple. Marylyn was younger by at least 25 years and Robert the elder hid his driver’s license so his spouse could never be sure of his real age. They were married for about fifteen years and Bob was finally showing his age and grouchy Scottish temperament.
Bob had retired too early, and missed the pleasure he’d derived from seeing the fleshy protuberances that lay under his students’ blouses, as they leaned too far forward or jumped up to answer a question, which had the effect of lifting their skirt high enough to allow the professor a glance at their pussy’s in tight panties and sometimes he noted they went commando under their short skirts. The visual thrill the professor experienced when a female student rocked backward when seated in his freshman Composition class, all of this voyeuristic excitement was gone.
Bob’s sexual fantasies with grad students were occasionally realized in his younger days when a college student so admired his intellect that she’d close the door of his classroom before kneeling at his feet, her sweet mouth agape offering the professor a hallowed blow job. Sometimes a student paramour not wearing panties would seat her naked ass on his desk and encourage her professor to penetrate her sacred self. Bob kept a package of Japanese condoms in the lower drawer of his desk for that eventuality.
Nowadays he tried to find pleasure at home, but Marylyn had abstained from giving him blow jobs and a hand job was too tiresome for him to attempt on himself.
Although he had tried to figure out his future financial situation when he left the University, inflation and the rapidly rising cost of everything under the sun had restricted his budget. Bob was now the chief cook and his solution was biblical. ‘Let them eat fish.’ They ate a lot of cheap fish purchased on sale at the KostRite. They consumed so much marine protein that Bob feared he was coming down with mercury poisoning and began to check if the tip of his flaccid penis glowed in the dark.
Bob had aged and walked with a robotic gait, his torso bent slightly forward. Marylyn was still attractive, approaching forty. When they went shopping together the stock clerks in the market assumed Bob was Marylyn’s father and made passes that only a deaf person might have missed. Marylyn, embarrassed, kept her eyes low and scrutinized the size of their bulges, wondering if they possessed a flag pole that might fit happily in her pussy.
The professor suffered a minor prostate problem, common in old age and he peed every two hours. If he wasn’t careful and didn’t get to the urinal in time, not always possible, his diminished stream would dribble down and wet his pants. He began to unbutton his trousers before urinating to avoid yellow stains, but his underwear often absorbed the warm urine drips that he could not mop up quickly enough with his toilet paper wad.
But Robert McGill could, with two 100 mg of Viagra, the cheaper generic variety, that his health plan provided, get his cock up. Bobby loved fucking his blue-eyed wife, sucking her big natural boobs and fitting his tiny dong in her very large orifice. His dick entry into her vagina might be likened to a small clapper inside a large bell, a clapper that hardly sounded the gong. As weak and limpid as his ejaculate was, it was still thrilling for Robert to cum inside her ‘copper dome.’
Marylyn, who as a student, habit of blowing Bob behind his college desk, now was forced to remark, “Bobby, your cum doesn’t taste real good anymore,” and avoided oral sex unless Bob pulled out before ejaculating and caught his weak cum deposit in a towel. Marylyn found Bob’s penis penetrations unfulfilling. She preferred to grab his dick when it was between her legs and jerk him off with her palm. Often Bob was unaware he hadn’t entered third base, but like anyone who had endured a long boring baseball game, a ninth-inning home run was a pleasurable climax.
The professor who hated politics, had abandoned watching the CNN or FOX broadcasts or any other news station on TV years before. The continual berating of both political parties and their candidates upset his equilibrium. He had put the old tube TVs into the waste can and when Marylyn asked where they had gone he invented some excuse, “They just wore themselves out,” never admitting his disgust.
An article in the New Yorker apprised him that a 24-hour billiard channel was now available on TV. The professor, once a student of billiards in his youth, now had something to watch beside his library of well-read tomes. Thinking of his past skill playing with the balls made his chest swell, although his little penis could not have cared a scintilla.
He rescued the last TV he had hidden in the garage. He struggled to open the old wooden garage door, whose hinges we covered with rust and old lead paint. He carried the small antique heavy TV set into his study and attempted to tune in for the first time in years. When he realized he lacked both an antenna and a cable connection, he realized he was in trouble. After googling the billiard channel, in desperation he learned that the signal could be captured on the computer monitor, once he found the correct link. He watched with fascination for the rest of the week.