Campus Cravings

The sky over campus was streaked with gold and lavender, the bleachers buzzing with cheers as the basketball game raged under stadium lights. But Naia wasn’t in the crowd.

She was beneath it.

Hidden in the shadowed underbelly of the home bleachers, Naia stood with her back against the cold concrete wall, breath slow, pulse high. She’d just left Professor Ellis’s house freshly fucked, freshly showered, and freshly brushed. Her hair gleamed in dark waves down her back. Her lips were plump and glossy, still tinged from swallowing cum. She looked clean. She felt filthy.

And she was already wet again.

Her violet cheer uniform had been smoothed out—almost. Her pleated skirt hugged her hips, still too short, and her top pulled tightly over her large, natural breasts. But beneath it, her pussy was bare. No panties. She never wore them after being bred. She wanted every man who used her to feel the warmth and the slick from the last.

And she wanted new ones now.

Her phone buzzed. She looked down.

"Halftime. We’re under. You coming?"

Naia didn’t text back.

She just stepped deeper into the shadows.

The moment she rounded the corner, she saw them—three players from the bench, already waiting. One leaned against a support pillar, jersey damp and sticking to his sculpted chest. Another bounced a basketball absently, shirtless, sweat trickling down his abs. The third smirked the second he saw her.

“Damn,” he said, eyes dragging down her legs. “Didn’t think you’d actually show.”

Naia didn’t smile.

She stepped close, her hips swaying, and wordlessly dropped to her knees between them.

But one of them stopped her with a hand on her chin.

“Slow down,” he said, tilting her head up. “You’re not rushing through us like you did the football boys.”

His thumb dragged across her lower lip.

“You’re gonna make us feel it.”

Naia’s lips parted around his thumb, sucking it into her mouth with a soft moan.

“I want to,” she whispered, voice breathy and soaked with want. “Please. Use me right.”

He pulled her to her feet.

And that’s when the foreplay began.

One took her against the pillar, gripping her ass through her skirt, kissing her hard—tongue invading her mouth, fingers finding the curve of her bare pussy beneath the hem. She was already soaked.

Another pulled her top down, freeing her tits, large and heavy, nipples hard. He knelt and suckled one slowly, teasing his tongue in slow, circular laps around her areola. His other hand slid between her legs and rubbed her clit with practiced pressure, knowing exactly how to tease a girl to the edge without letting her fall.

She moaned and clung to them both, grinding her thighs together, gasping when they took turns biting her neck, licking behind her ears, whispering filth directly into her mind.

“Look how sensitive she is…”

“She came here empty, ready to be filled…”

“She’s leaking. You see that? She’s dripping down her thighs.”

Then the third stepped behind her.

He reached between her legs and slowly slid two fingers into her pussy.

Naia cried out, already trembling, already clenching.

“Don’t come yet,” he whispered into her ear. “Make it hurt when we fuck you.”

They eased her to her knees.

She went down willingly, her hands working one cock while her mouth took another. Her lips moved slowly, deliberately, dragging over his shaft, tongue pressed to the underside for maximum friction. She twisted her wrist while sucking—slow jerk, deep suck, moan through her throat—all the tricks she’d mastered.

The third player moved behind her and lifted her skirt, revealing her dripping, glistening pussy.

He knelt, dragged his tongue up her inner thigh, and ate her.

Not fast.

Not sloppy.

Expertly.

His tongue flicked across her clit in a soft, rhythmic motion—then dipped inside, deep and slow, licking her open, drinking her juices while his thumb teased her hole. She moaned harder around the cock in her throat. Her body writhed. Her ass shook.

When her orgasm hit, she screamed onto the cock in her mouth, eyes rolling back, pussy clenching around nothing.

“That’s one,” someone muttered. “Let’s see how many she can take.”

They didn’t wait.

The one in front grabbed her hair and face-fucked her hard, groaning as her throat bulged around his cock. She gagged and drooled, eyes leaking, hands clawing the grass for balance. The one behind her stood and rammed into her slick, twitching cunt—slamming all the way in, forcing another scream from her mouth.

She was spitroasted again.

And this time, they took their time.

They fucked her slow, deep, and hard—gripping her hips, using her throat, praising her body as it shook from the use. Her tits bounced. Her eyes rolled. Her brain melted. They switched places, then did it again. Again. Her body wasn’t hers—it was theirs. A warm, wet hole. A set of tits. A throat trained to swallow cock.

When they finished, they finished all over her.

One in her pussy.

One across her face.

One in her mouth.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t blink. She swallowed and begged.

“Please don’t let me go back empty…”

And as they tucked themselves away and jogged back up the stairs to rejoin the second half, Naia lay beneath the bleachers—sweaty, sore, smiling.

She licked her lips.

Wiped cum from her cheeks.

And whispered, “Next.”