Buffy, the Erection Slayer

Buffy, The Erection Slayer

by Robert Lubrican

zbookstore Edition

Copyright 2025 Robert Lubrican

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to zbookstore.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Rights to use cover art purchased at iStock.com

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Table of Contents

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Epilogue

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Foreword

There are varying types of erotica, though a lot of people don't look at it that way. Many people lump all erotica into the one category "porn." What that means, if taken to its logical conclusion, is that any story that has explicit descriptions of sex in it is porn. Now let's just look at that for a second. You have a life. Your life has sex in it, assuming you're normal and reasonably lucky. When you have sex, it's pretty explicit.

But that doesn't mean your life is porn.

The fact is that sex plays an important part in your life, and in the lives of everybody else on the planet. And to me, it just seems like if a story is about people, sex might also play an important part in those people's lives.

That sounds very simplistic, but when you get a wild hair of an idea, things get complicated. Take this book, for example. On the face of it, it's just a nasty little book about a slut who has sex just about every chance she gets. But look a little deeper and you'll find something else completely. She's not actually a slut. She just likes sex. And she has standards - important standards. She cares about the men she interacts with. She even cares about the wives and girlfriends of the men who cheat on those wives and girlfriends with her.

So, what's the point? Well, if you're me, the point is that we tend to stereotype people, based on what we see on the surface of things. That's really not a very good idea, and it's a miserable way of choosing your friends. The fact is you need to look deeper, to see what makes each person tick. And that's what changes this from just a dirty smut story into something to think about. As a society, we're hung up on sex. Why? We were created to have it. If we didn't we'd die out as a species. Sex is as normal as eating and sleeping. And, like eating and sleeping, if you do them wrong, it can cause problems. So we need to pay attention.

That's all Buffy is actually saying in this book.

Bob

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Chapter One

Buffy tensed and started using her internal muscles to squeeze and milk the penis that was currently buried in her vaginal sheath. Said penis swelled and began delivering the sweet, thick liquid she so craved. Professor Sorenson always came so hard and long when he was this excited.

He also started talking when he was this excited, and this occasion was no exception.

"Then Stuart penetrated deep into enemy territory [grunt grunt]. He pounded the defenders relentlessly [pant pant] and pressed his attack, ravaging the defenses. At last his cavalry poured through the defenseless lines [grunt, pant] and he seeded destruction! He pillaged the supplies, taking what he wanted until he was satisfied!"

He gasped for air as his organ dribbled the last of his current supply of semen into the young woman under him. Sorensen knew the young woman writhing in ecstasy as he spewed his baby batter in her was not on the pill. He had never quite understood her convoluted reasoning for letting him take her bareback, and honestly, he didn't care. She had said something about how it made it 'more' exciting. He asked himself how fucking this hot little blonde could be anything but exciting, but the idea of making her waistline swell with his baby, a condition his wife seemed to be trying to avoid, sent him into a frenzy. That she seemed to be turned on by the risk was icing on the cake.

As usual when he approached his orgasm he had begun gasping about some aspect of history, often American History, which he taught at Collins College. This time it was about how Jeb Stuart had swept down on the Union supply wagons outside Washington D.C. and captured the train, withholding its bounty from the Yankee soldiers at Gettysburg. As he described the attack, with each emphasized word, he thrust into her, delivering his equivalent of cannon shot from his personal cannon, in his attempt to defeat Buffy's defenses and plant a baby in her belly.

Buffy tuned his chatter out and centered herself on the warm fluid that was bathing her insides. She knew she was addicted to semen - would even happily agree she was a cumslut - but she tempered her craving for the slippery fluid by trying to make sure that when she got a dose, she was at least within a four or five day span of when her period was supposed to arrive. She loved her four year old daughter more than anything else and wanted to have a big family, but not before she finished college and not with Collins College's Professor of American History. She purely did, however, enjoy his efforts.

Still, she hated taking precautions. The way she saw it, if she liked a man enough to let him have sex with her, then she shouldn't complain if he knocked her up. And, it was so much more fun if, when she decided to let a man have what all men craved, he knew she was totally unprotected. That made most men much more passionate and hotter lovers. At least once they knew she didn't expect anything from them other than orgasms.

So, in the interests of finishing school, she had made several rules for herself. One was that she'd try really hard to successfully use the rhythm method to enjoy any naked cocks she wanted in her. Her period was so regular that, had they known it, the Naval Observatory could time the phases of the moon by her. So, when she knew it was too dangerous to let a cock spurt way up inside her, she simply put it down her throat. At other times, when she felt reasonably sure she could chance getting a pussy full of spunk, she just neglected to tell her lover that it was a safe time of the month for her. Or at least safer than other times. Right now only one man was allowed to cum in her when she was ripe, and that was the man she called Uncle Bob.

Whenever she had a nice hard prick in her Buffy couldn't help but compare it to Uncle Bob's. He wasn't actually her uncle. He was her best friend, Megan's uncle. Uncle Bob had taken her in when, during the summer after her 18th birthday, a counselor at acting camp had knocked her up. Her mother had thrown her out of the house, calling her a slut and a whore.

That had hurt her feelings.

But Megan had gotten knocked up at acting camp too, by the same counselor, in fact. She, however, lived with her Uncle Bob, who told her that, while she should have used better judgment, men were men and women were women, so she'd just have to make the best of things. He had offered to let Buffy make the best of things at his house too, when Megan found out Buffy was homeless.

She knew Bob, of course, because she had spent many nights sleeping over at Megan's. She had always thought he was handsome, and he never treated her like a little girl. He was always polite too, even when she practiced flirting with him. So he was already special in her opinion.

Then, that first night, when she lay in the bed in his guest bedroom, wondering what would become of her, her door had opened and Bob had come in. When he asked her if she was all right, she burst into tears. He held her as she cried, stroking her hair, something her parents should have done, but had not.

"There, there," he said into her hair. "We'll figure things out. You're very smart, and got a scholarship, right?"

She nodded. "I'd like to go to college, but my daddy said they don't let sluts in there."

"I see," he said.

"But I only did it at acting camp, and it was kind of an accident, so I'm not a slut ... right?"

Bob stroked her back. "How many times did you let this man have you, Buffy?"

"I don't know. Acting camp was two months long, and after that first time we decided it was so much fun that we did it every night after that."

"You and Megan?" he clarified.

"Yes."

"And was it just this one man?"

She blushed. "Well ... there were a few of the boys we had to rehearse with, and the counselor had us rehearse love scenes with them."

"And so they fucked you too," said Bob.

"Yes," she admitted.

"Both you and Megan," he clarified.

"Yes," she admitted again.

"Well, I've never lied to you, and I'm not going to start now, Buffy. Any girl who lets a multiple men rut between her legs over and over is a slut. That's the definition of a slut Buffy, a woman who fucks more than one man because she enjoys it. Some people just don't understand that, and your mother is one of them." He was still stroking her hair. "But even sweet young sluts like you need love," he went on. "Come on, quit crying, we'll figure something out tomorrow."

"Thank you Uncle Bob" cried Buffy and she hugged him even closer. As they parted the covers slid down off her perfect teen breasts. She had gotten used to sleeping nude at Acting Camp and couldn't bear to wear anything to bed now. Bob's eyes glistened in the half light as he eyed her perky pink nipples.

"This counselor ... these boys" husked Megan's uncle. "The ones who did this to you" he stroked her still flat belly, below her naked breasts, pushing the covers down further and exposing her tuft of blond pussy hair. "Did he suck your little nipples?"

Buffy heard something in his voice she had heard in the counselor's voice, and she suddenly realized that Uncle Bob wasn't thinking about her as "Megan's little friend" any more. And she agreed with him - even sluts need love. And of all the men she could think of, Uncle Bob was her favorite.

"Lots," she whispered. "They sucked ... other places too," she went on, goading him to see what he would do.

"Lots," he whispered back. Then he bent over and sucked her exposed nipple himself.

"Ohhhh Uncle Bob," sighed Buffy. "You're a naughty, naughty man, just like those others!"

"No I'm not," he corrected. "Best friend's uncles get to do this to little sluts." His hand, which had been on her belly, slid down between her legs and she instinctively spread her knees apart. She hadn't had any cock in the two months since she came back from Acting Camp and her body was ready for moree. "And they get to do this too," he said as he slid a big finger into her pussy, going deep.

Buffy moaned as her horny pussy clamped down on Bob's thick finger. "And ... what else ... do they do ...?" she panted.

"Uncle Bob needs to know just how wet you are," Bob whispered and his lips left her nipples and drifted down, closer and closer to her teen pussy, pushing the covers off of her little by little.

It had been a long time since anybody had done that to Buffy too, and her legs widened to give him plenty of room. She reached for an orgasm as he licked and sucked her young pussy lips, and felt her pussy weep all over his face as she came.

Her best friend's uncle had then leaned back, examining her sprawled and naked body, open for the taking. He had crawled up between her legs, working his pajama bottoms down off his hips and exposing his very manly boner. No words were needed as he slotted his rampant prick to her pussy's mouth and began easing it in. He assumed this counselor was a teenager himself, not a man, so he went slowly. He wanted this sweet young woman to spread for him again, so he wanted her to enjoy this.

So Uncle Bob had taken over her education from the counselor, who had taken her cherry at acting camp. Uncle Bob had taught her even more about how to have great sex than the counselor had.

Her attention was drawn back to the present when Professor Sorenson moaned as his manhood dribbled it's last in Buffy's now relaxed pussy.

"Ohhh Buffy, you're always so tight and so hot," he moaned. "I think I love you."

"Now Professor" she chided. "You're a married man. I only did this with you the first time because I felt so sorry for you. And you were so manly and virile and ... you were a naughty boy," She squeezed her pussy muscles like she'd been taught to do. "I don't fuck married men, Professor."

"I don't know what you call this," he gasped as he tried to push his softening prick deeper into her. "But I don't know what I'd do if you didn't do it with me."

"Silly boy," she said in a singsong voice. "You should be doing this to your wife."

"I can't" he panted. "The bitch won't let me near her any more. All I want is to knock her up good and proper one more time. A blow job would be nice now and then too. I'd be happy to lick her pussy too. But she thinks I'm crazy."

"Poor baby" said Buffy, kissing him. "But you have to go now. I have to go to class."

"You don't have to come to my class," he said between long deep breaths. "You already got an A in my class."

"Now Professor" she chided him again. "I need an education, and it's your job to give me one. I want to earn that A."

"Believe me" he sighed as he pulled out of her. "You already have."

Buffy cooed at him and pushed him off the bed. She jumped up, full of energy like she always seemed to be when she had a pussy full of spunk. Spunk made her ... spunky!

As she walked to class Buffy thought about how she'd gotten to Collins College. When Uncle Bob had taken her in her whole life had changed. Uncle Bob had joined the Army as soon as he graduated from High School and had then spent the next twenty years serving his nation. He had been to more than twenty countries during his career in the Army and he retired at only age 38. Now he worked as a consultant, and arranged his schedule so that he only worked when he wanted to. He became the girls' surrogate father ... and mother, for that matter, as well as their friend. And, of course, he was Buffy's lover and teacher in all things sexual.

Bob had taught her how to use her body to enjoy sex and ensure that her partners enjoyed sex too. It wasn't that he was promiscuous. The first thing he taught her was to be choosey and how to choose a partner who was most likely to be safe and healthy. Then, once she had the man in her sights, he taught her how to capture the object of her desire. And every man who Buffy captured was a prisoner for life. They all wanted to marry her, even though she already had a daughter.

That was another rule Buffy had made for herself. She decided that she wasn't interested in men who were married, or had steady girlfriends. But somehow, she had really miserable luck picking men who weren't married, or weren't in a committed relationship. What Buffy kept forgetting to do was ensure that the man she set her sights on wasn't already spoken for. She always got carried away somehow. And of course there were the men who lied to her, saying they were footloose and fancy free, when in fact they were married, or had girlfriends. And most of the younger ones, who really were footloose and fancy free, weren't the best candidates for long term relationships ... or marriage.

Basically Buffy was like a sailor. Basically, she had a man in every port.

So quite without intending to, right now Buffy had to juggle five men who were helpless when she walked into the room. There was Professor Sorenson, of course, who had fallen under her spell when she went to his office to ask him if she could write her history term paper on Gloria Steinem and the effect she had had on sexual mores of young women in America. When Bill Sorenson questioned the beautiful young coed on those effects he had been overcome with admiration for the sexy girl. Her assertion that Steinem was responsible for a minor baby boom in America was intriguing. Their talk had led to him confiding his desire for a large boisterous family and how effectively his wife used abstinence to make sure he didn't have one. Buffy was so moved by pity for the poor man she was soon on her back on a love seat in his office as Professor Sorenson poured sperm into her pussy attempting to test the girl's theory.

Almost the same thing had happened when she joined the Economics Club. She had scored two men in that group. John Willy (she always laughed when she thought of his last name) was the treasurer and when she went to his dorm room to pay her dues they talked about her plan to become wealthy by the time she was in her thirties. She'd been wearing a halter top that day, and in bending over had shown him her beautiful breasts.

This time she assumed he was a single guy, mostly because he was pretty geeky, with thick glasses and slicked back hair. When, during their conversation, Buffy had compared a man's penis to the stock market - limp meant down and stiff meant up - and said that there were things you could do to ensure that things were always ... up ... he stood up and to his own amazement dropped his pants, showing her that she was absolutely right. She could do things that ensured the market was ... up.

And her surprise at seeing how long and thick this geek's penis was had convinced her that it would be wonderful in her mouth.

She had swallowed greedily and allowed John to show his stamina by giving her a second load in her pussy - it had been one of her "lucky days".

It turned out he did have a girlfriend named Jennifer, but things weren't working out too well between them. Jennifer had somehow decided that men (that meant him) were weak, and that the best way to prevent them (that meant him) from making fools of themselves by fawning all over a woman in public (that meant her) was to wear very conservative clothing. All her clothes covered her from ankle to neck. She never wore a skirt or dress, and on their dates she always made sure they went to public places. Her mother had impressed on her that only a virgin could get a good man, and that love didn't have anything to do with it.

Buffy learned all this as she was prodded and rodded by the sexually famished young man who, when she cooed "Ooooo I love your hot stuff in my pussy ... shoot me full," actually cried when he ejaculated into her.

What started out as a "pity fuck" turned into a friendship of sorts. And, because Buffy thought John deserved better than this Jennifer person was giving him ... Buffy continued to give him what she thought he deserved.

Buffy still got almost weekly advice on her investments from John. And, since so far he hadn't even been allowed to touch Jennifer's breasts, each time Buffy met with him for financial advice, he was almost frantic to make a deposit in Buffy's sperm bank.

The second man in that club who fell victim to Buffy's charms was their sponsor, Professor Theodore Tinder. She sought his advice on which stocks to invest in initially. Only the night before he had been accused of being a pervert by his wife, Christy. She made the comment after he commented on how sexy a cheerleader looked at their son's High School football game. She had refused him sex that night too, calling him "disgusting".

So when cute little braless Buffy came to the club meeting the next night, looking just as tasty as that cheerleader had, he couldn't help but ask her if she'd been a cheerleader in school.

"Sometimes I was," she said, blushing.

"Sometimes?" he queried.

"Well there was this guy I liked, and he got all excited whenever I pretended to be a cheerleader . You know ... role playing? Anyway, for his birthday I got a costume from the thrift store and ... sometimes ... I was a cheerleader."

Professor Tinder, or "Teddy" as she was soon to be calling him, got a glassy look in his eye as he read between the lines of her story. "Um ... I ah ... I don't suppose you still have that outfit do you?" he asked hopefully.

"Why yes I do Professor. Would you like to see it?" Teddy was tall, with huge hands, and in Buffy's experience the old wives tale about big hands meaning a big cock were true. Apparently those old wives had found out some way to tell.

"Buffy, nothing would please me more," sighed the frustrated man.

"You aren't married are you sir?" said Buffy, remembering for once to ask.

Theodore Tinder thought about his life with the woman he was legally tied to. You couldn't really call that a marriage. Not like marriages were supposed to be. "I wish I was" was his reply. It didn't occur to him that she might get the wrong message from that.

So a couple of nights later Buffy showed up at the club room, wearing her cheerleader outfit. No bra or panties, of course. And she did some cheers for the nice man, and showed him her pussy, and found out that the old wives had been right again. Teddy had a truly impressive prong that reached clear to her womb when it delivered its healthy dose of hot baby makers. She wasn't taking any courses from him and he was so pitifully thankful that she'd let him play out his fantasy that he offered her money.

Buffy had grabbed him by his impressively large balls and growled "I'm no hooker Teddy, and don't you ever forget that. The only reason we did this tonight was because I wanted to, got it?" She gave him a painful squeeze to punctuate her warning and he nodded frantically..

In time she found out he was, in fact married, but that his wife thought his fantasies about young girls made him a perverted slime ball who had no redeeming values. It didn't make much sense to try to come on to a woman who called you a perverted slime ball, so he'd just quit trying. He missed having sex with his wife, and Buffy felt sorry for him.

Since then she had been a Catholic School Girl, a Belly Dancer, and someone named Marge, for which she had to dress very conservatively, but act like a total vamp. Teddy had a good imagination and he liked using it. When he did he produced prodigious amounts of male nectar, which Buffy loved, so it was a good match.

And, all he did to express his thanks that she gave him repeat performances, was give her the best stock tips he could come up with and buy her expensive gifts.

Buffy thought about those things as she went to her Calculus class, which she liked a lot. Numbers had a way of being nice and steady. You could depend on numbers as long as you knew the formulas. The class always seemed to fly by. She was leaving when she was approached by Mike Stewart, one of her classmates, and a study partner ... of sorts.

"Hey Buffy" he called. "Can we study tonight?"

"Mikey!" squealed Buffy. "And how's my right wing ultra conservative Republican type friend today?" she asked brightly. She had met Mike in a study session put together by several kids in the class and, after a very rocky start, they had hit it off. That part was strange, because Mike was the president of the Young Conservative's Club on campus. He was as straight-laced as they came. But he was also cute, and Buffy couldn't resist teasing him and flirting with him during their first few study sessions. It always made him blush and stammer and eventually made him angry. One night, after the study session was over, he followed Buffy to where she'd left her bike.

"Miss Sherwood!" he called in a strident voice. "May I have a word with you?"

Buffy had turned around, her braless breasts bobbing in her peasant blouse. Her boobs had gotten big when Tiffany was born, full of milk for the youngster. And Tiffany and Uncle Bob (and even Megan) had made sure her breasts were emptied every day. As a result they had stayed big when she weaned her daughter, and now sagged just a little. Her nipples had stayed bigger too and were now as big around as a man's little finger, and about three quarters of an inch long. She loved the sensual feel of her blouses rubbing across them as her tits bounced up and down when she walked. When she saw it was Mike Stewart she grinned..

"Hi Mikey! she said. "How're they hanging?"

This was exactly the kind of thing that had gotten Mike upset. He wasn't so much angry at her language, but about how it made him feel. Mike was almost engaged to Alice Nivens, of Nivens Steel and Pipe, in Atlanta. Alice would never have made any mention of his testicles, in any manner at all, much less to ask "how they were hanging." She was a proper young lady. They had kissed, and hugged, and she had even let him rub up against her on a number of occasions, but she wouldn't do anything else. It had gotten to the point where those balls of his that Alice would never refer to were getting blue and hurting. In a fit of excitement one time Mike had suggested that, if she were to perform fellatio on him, he would be extremely appreciative. Her response had been vituperative in the extreme.

"Why Michael Stewart, the very thought that I might soil my mouth with your male parts makes me literally sick at my stomach! I cannot believe you said that! You must think me a hussy of the worst type. I sincerely hope, Michael, that you will not abuse my ears with that kind of nonsense again. And if you think that after we are married you can talk that way, then you are sadly mistaken. Apologize at once!" she had stormed.

Michael had backed off with his tail tucked firmly between his conservative legs and never mentioned it again. He didn't even ask her if she'd jerk him off, fearful she'd call off the almost-engagement.

So, when Buffy winked at him, and licked her lips, and stuck her pencil in her mouth like it was a tiny little dick, the feelings it raised in him were intense ... and unwelcome. More than once he'd had to walk carefully to his BMW, because his balls were sore and his dick was stiff.

So when this vamp of a woman asked him "how they were hanging" Michael Stewart let her have it.

"You, Miss Sherwood, are a slut of the worst type. You flirt with men and cause them embarrassment in public settings and I want you to stop it immediately. I do not wish your whorish attention to be directed at me again under any circumstances, is that clear?"

Buffy had heard it all before, and what Michael T. Stewart, little rich boy, thought of her couldn't have mattered less. She smiled sweetly at him and said. "Gee Mikey, it sounds to me like you're in serious need of a nice, long, wet, blowjob. It would help with all that tenseness, I promise."

Michael T. Stewart IV almost choked on his emotions. "You are despicable in the extreme!" he raged. "To tease a man like that, when you know very well you have no intent of doing anything of the kind is the most vile and tawdry thing a woman can do! I've a mind to thrash you!"

Buffy had been taken aback at his vitriolic anger. His stormy face and threatening demeanor had actually scared her a little.

She tried to defend herself anyway. "Look here Mikey, I don't know what's gotten your tidy whities in a knot, but I don't ever offer to do something I'm not fully prepared to do. You may be mister rich hoity toity ... guy" she sputtered "but that doesn't give you the right to say those things about me. I'm a normal girl and if I like the feel of a man's cock in my mouth, well that's my business, and if you're too uptight to take a girl up on a humanitarian offer, then just go fuck yourself, 'cause you're sure not getting in my panties with an attitude like that!" she ended up yelling. It was loud enough that several people stopped to watch and see what was developing.

Mike, being ever the politically correct man he was instinctively tried to mollify her, to get her to stop yelling and drawing unwanted attention, at the least.

"Calm down Miss Sherwood, I was simply trying to inform you that your teasing is unfair. We men have feelings too, you know." Mike was having a hard time thinking. When she yelled at him her nipples stuck out through that delightful peasant blouse even more and she flushed so prettily.

Buffy stared at him. "I thought boys liked to be teased. Besides, it was more like flirting than teasing. Can't you tell the difference?"

"Why on earth would you flirt with me?" asked Michael T. Stewart IV. No one except the maids had ever flirted with him, and all they wanted was money.

"Well, for one thing, you're kind of cute," said Buffy. This barely-a-man was of a type she hadn't had much experience with, and she didn't know quite how to handle him. Uncle Bob hadn't given her a primer on how to get a rich boy, most probably because he wanted to spare Buffy the pain of being around them.

"Oh," said Mike, the wind suddenly missing from his sails.

"And what's the big deal about offering you a hummer?" asked Buffy. "I thought all men loved to have their straw emptied. It's not like I was asking you to marry me or anything."

"Straw emptied" repeated Mike. He had to actually think about that for a second. "Oh! " he said. "But you didn't actually mean it ... did you?"

"Of course I meant it!" said Buffy angrily. "I told you I don't make offers I won't back up. You were so tense I thought you could use a little fun."

"You'd actually suck my dick?" asked an amazed Michael T. Stewart IV.

"I would have, but you were mean to me!" said Buffy. She was back on familiar ground now. Make them feel like they had hurt your feelings and they'd do almost anything to make things okay.

"I'm sorry" said Mike, responding exactly as Uncle Bob had said he would. "I thought you were teasing me ... you know, trying to get me excited, and then you'd leave me high and dry."

"Why in the world would I do that?" he said. "I think you're cute. You probably have a nice cute penis. I just love sucking sweet cum out of cute penises. So I offered." Buffy set the hook. "But then you were mean to me!" She worked up a couple of tears. She was, after all, an accomplished actress.

"Don't cry .. please don't cry" Mike looked around to see who was watching. He comforted her by putting his arm around her and started her walking toward his car. "Come on, I'll take you home."

Buffy stopped. "No, that's okay, I have my bike." She went for the kill. "Besides, you're not all tense any more. You probably don't even need a blow job now."

To his everlasting amazement, Michael T. Stewart IV, president of the Young Conservatives Club and straight laced man about town, heard himself say "Oh no, please. Really I do! I'm so tense I ... I ... I think something might actually crack any time now. And your offer was so sweet. And I was such a cad! Please?"

Buffy looked at him sideways. "Where do you live?" she asked. Buffy never took men to her own house. It was another of her rules. She didn't want most of them to know where she lived.

"I'm in the Delta Chi Epsilon Fraternity. I live in the Frat house," he said.

Buffy raised her eyebrows. Delta Chi Epsilon's Frat house was right next door to her apartment. She'd have to be careful with this one.

"Tell you what. I'll go home and freshen up and then come over to the Frat and we'll just see if we can't loosen you up a little. How's that?" asked Buffy. "Give me an hour. And get some wine. Something sweet," she said.

"Okay. Great! I'll be there. My room is 207," said an eager Mike. It didn't occur to him until he was driving home that she might not show. He stopped and got two bottles of wine, just in case she didn't. If she didn't follow through he'd drink them both and then probably blow his head off.

He was halfway through the first bottle and a little tipsy when there was a knock on his door. When he opened it and saw Buffy standing there in a T shirt and running shorts his dick got stiff immediately.

"You came!" he cried.

"Of course I came. I said I would, didn't I?" She smiled sweetly.

He invited her in, nervous now and tried to make small talk. "Um, where are you from?" he asked.

Buffy put her hand on his chest and gently shoved him toward his bed. "We can get to know each other later. Right now I'm hungry." She licked her lips.

Mike stammered. "I'm sorry. I got the wine, but I didn't get any snacks."

"Silly boy" cooed Buffy. "That's not what I'm hungry for. You just lie down and relax and let Buffy take care of those tense muscles." She pushed him until the back of his legs hit his bed and he flailed as he went over backwards. Buffy's hands were at his belt immediately and in no time she had it undone and his fly down. She pulled on his pants as he tried to wiggle up further on the bed.

"You do wear tidy whities!" crowed Buffy as his well filled briefs were exposed. As he tried to kick off his slacks she pulled on his briefs, exposing his cock to her smoky eyes. "Ooooo, and you do have a cute prick! "she said.

Things were going much much better and much much faster than Michael T. Stewart IV could have dreamed of. He was about to say something when his cock was suddenly enveloped in a hot, wet mouth. He lifted his head, incredulous, and looked at Buffy's blond head. His dick was actually in her mouth! He couldn't believe it. Then she sucked and dragged her mouth up to the tip of his uncut cock. With one hand she skinned his foreskin off the tip and then sucked just the tip, using her tongue to swirl all around it. She kissed it like it was a movie star, making little "Mmmmm" sounds all the time.

If Alice had been in the room at the time and he had been armed, Michael might have murdered his girlfriend. That she had the ability to give him such pleasure yet refused him was a crime beyond words. Her family fortune, her father's connections to the College Young Republicans Establishment, paled in comparison to the exquisite sensations from this nobody - bad choice of words - blonde whose mouth was driving him insane.

Buffy lifted her head long enough to make eye contact and said "You have a lovely cock Mikey."

Then she was down on him again, like she really was starving, and like she really was going to eat that cock right off.

Michael T. Stewart IV felt his balls buzz and knew he was about to blow a nut. Never having had this done before, he didn't know the etiquette, but he assumed he'd better warn her or he might face severe consequences.

"Buuufffeeee" he groaned. "I've gotta ... I'm gonna" He reached for her hair and pushed ineffectually at it.

Buffy lifted her head again. There was a string of precum stuck to the lip and the end of his cock. She looked at him and smiled. "You gonna cum now Mikey? You gonna give me a little present? I bet you're gonna taste good Mikey." Then she jacked on his cock and sealed her lips over the head.

Michael T. Stewart IV thought the top of his head was going to blow off. She was going to let him cum in her mouth! His whole body seized up and his hips came up off the bed as Buffy rode with him, never breaking her seal, and jacking him like a pro. He felt the first jet of semen tear through his cock, like liquid fire and felt it leave his cock. She sucked harder and gave his cock two little jerks that milked him of three more shots. He fell back to the bed and, then felt sadness as her mouth left his member. She scrambled up, her mouth closed, but leaking sperm and he had a sudden horrified thought that she was going to spit it out in his face. But she put her throat by his ear and swallowed loudly instead.

Michael T. Stewart IV had thought he was done, and was completely satisfied with what had happened. But when Buffy made sure he heard her swallowing his spunk, his cock revived and stood straight up again. Buffy sat back and looked down at his prick.

"Oh, goody," she said, strings of cum going between her lips. She licked them and swallowed again as she tore her T shirt off, exposing naked breasts. Then she skinned her shorts down, revealing her naked pussy.

Before Michael T. Stewart IV could move she straddled him, notched his cock into her slit, and sat down firmly.

If her mouth had felt wonderful, Mike couldn't begin to describe how fantastic it felt to have hot pussy wrapped firmly around his prick. He arched his hips again, trying to squirt, but couldn't. Buffy rode him mercilessly, grinding her clit against his pubic bone and demanded "Suck my titties Mikey, I love it when a man sucks my titties." He tried to capture one waving nipple, but couldn't, and had to use his hands. Her breasts felt so soft and he tried to squirt again, but couldn't. Every muscle in his body was as taut as a piano wire as he finally captured and then nursed her sweet tasting nipple. Her pussy clamped down on him as she came.

"I'm cumming Mikey. I'm cumming all over your nice hard prick. Can you squirt me Mikey? Have you got anything left?"

Mike felt something snap inside him and rolled with her, ending up on top. He'd never done this before either, but instinct told him to pound this wonderful woman hard with his cock, so he did. Buffy squealed, telling him what a fantastic lover he was.

"I'm not on the pill Mikey" she panted. "If you cum in me you might make me pregnant. Do you want to make me pregnant Mikey? Do you want to fill me up with your spunky sperm?"

"Ohhh fuuuck" said Michael T. Stewart IV. Had he been completely sober and not in the throes of passion, he would have assumed she was trying to get pregnant so he'd have to marry her. But he was so hot that all he could think about was mating with this fabulous woman.

"Come on Mikey, give pussy a bath" she whispered in his ear.

That did it. With pain in his balls Mike thrust in one last time and felt the sweet release of more semen flow thorough his cock. It felt good to put it in this girl. The thought that he might be fathering a child on her was intensely erotic.

Michael T. Stewart IV was hooked. Buffy had conquered another man. In the sweet afterglow of their orgasms, Mike sighed. "Man, I wish my fiancée would do that for me."

Buffy, realizing she'd managed to pick an attached man yet again, laughed out loud. "Well don't you worry about it Mikey. You taste good so I'll do it for you any time you want."

Thus had begun their relationship, and as Mike was perfectly happy with a simple blow job, Buffy could satisfy him any time, whether she was ripe or not. She reserved fucking him for special occasions, or to reward him for some particularly sweet thing he did. Now, as he approached her suggesting a study session Buffy laughed again. "Sure Mike, but this time you just have to bring some books!"

He looked sheepish, knowing he'd been caught. He didn't really want to study. He wanted another blow job. Michael T. Stewart purely loved his blowjobs, and he purely loved Buffy for giving them to him.

"Okay, see you around eight." He smiled. Buffy punched him in the arm, but smiled at him as well and walked on. She had to hurry or she'd be late for work.

 

Chapter Two

Twenty minutes after Buffy left Mike happily contemplating what Buffy would do to him later that night, the co-ed he was dreaming about walked into the college book store where she worked about twenty hours a week. She didn't really have to work, as Uncle Bob and scholarships were paying for school, room and board. But for spending money and investment funds, Buffy decided to make her own money. Her usual work partner was already behind the counter.

"Hey Boomer," she said cheerfully.

Charles "Boomer" Wiggins waved without looking up from the book he was reading. "Hey good lookin'," he said. He was a sober young man, taller than most, not very outgoing and yet, he was one of the most popular guys on campus. He was called Boomer because he was the kicker for the football team, and more often than anyone wished, it was his kicks that won the games they won. Boomer was being scouted by the NFL because he could kick a field goal from the fifty yard line and make it eight out of ten times. He came from Iowa, from a corn farm, was an only child, and had the most miserably small amount of self-confidence that Buffy had ever seen in a man. He was smart and talented and would make millions if he played professional football, but Boomer was scared to try. He could go out on the field at Collins every week and kick the cover off the ball and he was fine. But, according to him, put him in a pro stadium and sometimes he missed the ball completely. Buffy had been trying to talk to him about it for a month, as the football season progressed. But when she did he just buried his nose in a book and refused to say anything.

Buffy put her purse away and looked in her box for any notes from the supervisor. Finding nothing she looked around the store to see if there were any customers. Boomer was sitting on the stool behind the cash register and wasn't any good at customer service anyway.

There was nobody in the store, and nothing to do.

Buffy looked at Boomer and remembered when she had added him to her stable of lovers.

It had been several months before, and had started more out of curiosity than anything else. She remembered it like it was yesterday. It had happened right there at work:

"So, Boomer, I went to the game last Friday. I watched you kick. I was impressed," she had said, trying to start a conversation. Boomer didn't talk much.

"Thanks," he said softly. He was still reading. Or looking at the book anyway. Buffy noticed his eyes weren't moving.

"I have a question though," she said. "When you run up there to kick the ball, you have on those slick pants that look kind of like spandex, right?"

He looked up finally. "Yeah," he said.

"Well, I was looking at the front of them. A lot of the guys have this huge bulge there, but it has the same shape to it. They wear cups, right?" Buffy sounded like she was discussing the price for pork belly futures.

"Yeah," he said again.

"But you don't wear a cup. I mean you don't have that pattern. You just have a lump. And I was wondering why you don't wear a cup," she finished.

Boomer had opened his mouth and looked around and then closed his mouth. He looked around again. Buffy stood there patiently, waiting for whatever he was going to say. She was determined to get him talking.

"It ... uh it gets in the way sort of" said Boomer. "When I kick my right leg sort of crosses over my left leg and the cup gets in the way and hurts. So I don't wear it." He looked at Buffy, like he was waiting for her to laugh.

"Okay, that makes sense" said Buffy, quite seriously. "But what about your balls? Don't you squash them when you kick? I mean when I saw you kick it looked like you squashed your balls. Doesn't that hurt?"

Boomer didn't know what to do. No one had ever had this kind of conversation with him before ... certainly no female. Buffy was a beautiful girl, and he saw her with handsome guys. She was way out of his league, the way he saw it, and girls just didn't ask those kinds of questions in the world he came from.

"It never has," he finally said.

"Oh," said Buffy. "Well it sure looks like it might hurt. I'm glad it doesn't though. Can I ask you another question?"

Boomer looked at her warily. "Okay," he said.

"Do you masturbate before the game?" Buffy asked, just as seriously as before.

Boomer looked around again.

"This is like that show on TV isn't it. I'm being punked, right?" he asked.

Buffy laughed. "No Boomer. I was reading a book at the library about professional sports and one of the men they interviewed in the book said that to battle his nervousness he masturbated before each game. He said it made him calmer and he could think better. And you obviously think really well out there on the field, so I just wondered if you masturbated before the games too."

She made it all sound so ... normal. But it wasn't normal. Girls didn't just go up to guys and ask them if they jacked off.

It might not have seemed so weird ... except that Boomer did jack off before every game.

Well, he got jacked off.

His girlfriend, Melinda jacked him off. It was a strange story, and it was the primary reason Boomer didn't like to talk to anybody. He was afraid they'd find out his secret. He'd met Melinda Jones at a school mixer the year before. She was a mousy nondescript girl, just the kind Boomer assumed was right for him. She came from a conservative little town in Missouri. Boomer had started dating her because he thought he should date someone. And Melinda had taken over his life. She had a way of putting a guilt trip on him that was palpable. For example, if he didn't kick well, she berated him for being a failure. She said things like "That's not the Charles I know ... not the Charles who could be famous some day." She did perform the beatoff ritual before each game, which Boomer had started before he met her, but she did it under protest. She said it was a nasty habit and that if he did it he couldn't touch her. So she did it for him, but complained about it every time.

She refused to call him Boomer. She said that was an infantile name. And she was hinting that football should not be his future. Her father was a successful businessman, and would welcome Charles into the family ... but not if it was found out he required poor Melinda to perform perverted heathen rites before each game. She never let up about it. She acted more like his manager than his girlfriend. She let him kiss her, but sex was out. She stated proudly that only her husband would get her in bed. Those were the kinds of strong hints she gave all the time. And she spent every waking minute in his company unless she had class. She had even come into the bookstore every time he worked until the supervisor told her she was distracting him from his job. When she saw him after work that night she suggested that if he'd only talk to her father about a job he wouldn't have to work for that asshole at the bookstore.

Basically, Boomer was henpecked and he wasn't even married yet. It was depressing, but he didn't have any other options, as far as he was concerned, so he just lived with it.

But now, talking with another girl ... a pretty girl ... who seemed interested in his life ... Boomer began to rise out of his stupor.

"Why would you ask me about a thing like that?" he said, looking at Buffy.

"I think it's interesting. I know girls who masturbate just before they take a final exam. They swear they think better and get a better grade when they do that."

"You're kidding" Boomer said.

"Not at all. I've never tried it myself, but that's because I've never been worried about a final. So I read about that in that book and I thought it might be interesting to do some research on it. It might make a good term paper for sociology or something. So you never answered. Do you?"

Boomer didn't know why, but he wanted to talk to this girl. He wanted to talk to somebody anyway, and here she was, interested in the thing that was his big secret. "Um ... If I talk about this it has to be just between you and me, okay?"

Guys from Iowa farms tend to believe that people will honor their oaths, so when Buffy said "Sure" he looked around again and in a very low voice he said "If I don't beat off before the game I can't hit anything." He waited for her to laugh, but she didn't. Instead she acted like she was really interested.

"How do you know?" she said. "I mean have you tried it both ways on purpose or something?"

"I know," he said firmly. "Lots of guys involved in sports are superstitious. I eat the exact same meal before every game. I tie my shoes just so. I wear the same sweatbands on my wrists that I wore in High School. And ... the other thing ... it started in High school. I was so excited about going out on the field that I was jittery and I don't know why but I just did it. And it was amazing. I calmed down and the game went perfect. Since I started there've only been three games when I didn't jack off before the game, and in all three of those games I didn't score a single point."

"So why didn't you beat off before those three games?" she asked.

Boomer pressed his lips together. "Melinda," he said.

"Who's she?" asked Buffy.

"She's my girlfriend. When I met her we started going out and she went everywhere with me. And it came time for my ... ritual ... but I couldn't do it because Melinda was there."

"Why not?" asked Buffy.

"Guys don't beat off in front of their girlfriends," said Boomer, aghast.

"Sure they do. I've had lots of boyfriends and some of them used to watch me masturbate while I watched them do it. It was sexy."