Breaking the Girl
written by:
Wayward Eve

Hi. You can call me Evelyn.

There are some things you should know about me before we get started. First, I'm 5' 5". I have blonde hair. I wear it short. 34C. I usually hover around 115 pounds. Second, aside from a few minor details (like names), this is autobiographical. Lastly, I'm not what you would call a ‘good girl' or a ‘nice person'. I'm sharing this with you because it gets me off. If you don't like me, I don't care. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. You might want to keep some tissues handy.

My body bucked and writhed. The muscles in my thighs throbbed. The ones in my stomach twisted into knots. My breath came in staccato gasps, my face buried into Lacey's pillows. My hands balled up sections of her comforter, clenching and releasing in time with similar reactions deeper within me. I was sweating. Each time his hips slammed into me, I moaned involuntarily. Occasionally, I invoked the lord's name. By the time Levi came, I'd been plowed more times than the Fertile Crescent. His climax was amazing. The sounds he made, his last frenzied thrusts; it was all intoxicating. Coupled with his apparent ethical bankruptcy, I was really starting to like the boy.

With four girls sharing a cramped, four-bedroom dorm apartment some chaos was to be expected. There was quite a bit, to be sure. There were also things that worked like clockwork. Class schedules aside, we each had our own predictable habits. Every Wednesday, Madison forced her boyfriend, Parker, to take out for "date night". Devon watched several television shows, like Survivor, with religious dedication. On Monday nights, I went to the library, picked a book at random, and read until they threw me out. Lacey had a slew of rituals. She made her bed every morning, she did her laundry every Sunday, and she always came back to the dorm room after her studio classes to drop off cameras and lenses. I'd let her use those cameras on me. She'd let me use my mouth on her. Since then, she'd kept me at a cool distance. I wanted her see this.

So, there I was on Lacey's bed with Devon's ‘boyfriend' exploding inside of me. Lacey's neatly made bed was a disheveled mess. Our discarded clothes littered her bedroom floor. Lacey walked in on us, the picture of nonchalance. She set her camera case on the dresser and walked out. She was all the way back to the front door before she deigned to acknowledge us. "Bye, guys," she said. That was it. Two innocuous, little words. It was hardly the reaction I was going for. The girl was magnificent.

"We're still doing one for one, right?" Levi asked, pulling away from me. "Even if she tells Devon, you still owe me."

I rolled onto my back to face him. Levi's puckish smile was infectious and I returned it. "She won't tell Devon," I said confidently. Lacey hadn't told Madison about catching me with Madison's boyfriend. I couldn't imagine this would be any different. "Now, get out. I have to get ready for class." No goodbyes. No epilogues. He gathered his clothes and saw himself out. I took a long, hot bath. In the middle of it, I called Parker and let him listen to me masturbate. I panted his name while thinking about Levi the whole time.

When I made it back to the dorm for the evening, it was obvious that I'd been right about Lacey's discretion. Devon and Levi were snuggled on one end of our sofa. Madison sat on Parker's lap on the other end. It was charmingly idyllic, two girls and their boyfriends hanging out and watching movies together. Naturally, I opted to fill the empty space on the couch between the couples. There was a certain, sadistic thrill to sitting next to both of the boys I was fucking. "Hey, Levi's frat is having a party tomorrow night. Want to come?" Devon asked after the obligatory salutations.

Frat Party (n): a gathering of drunken boys eager to demonstrate their mastery of premature ejaculation. "I don't know," I hedged, turning to Madison. "Are you going to go?" I asked her. I made it sound like my decision hinged on her. I'd been toying with the idea of becoming one of her obsequious groupies. That way, when the time came, I'd be close enough to hear her "Et tu, Brute" (If you have to look that one up, burn your undeserved diplomas first). "I'll go if you are."

Parker answered for her. "We're going. It's Brad's birthday party." Like Parker, Brad was a starter on the school football team. I didn't know him.

"Then I'm in. It'll be my first frat party," I lied. I'd gone to plenty while I was still in high school. "Should I be nervous?"

"Very," Levi teased. "The boys love fresh meat."

I looked back to Madison for reassurance. "Don't worry," she said, accepting her part in my little production. I was the bumbling ingénue and she was my savvy mentor. "It'll be fun. I'll introduce you to people." After a while, I got bored with the movie (some stupid slasher flick) and retired to my room to study. Not long after, Devon took Levi into her bedroom. Seconds later, the noise began. I listened to them fuck for a little while, more analytical than aroused. Did her fuck her the way he fucked me? It sure sounded like it. I had to afford Devon a bit of grudging respect. Levi had left me achingly sore. Devon took that pounding every night. I didn't know if I should be jealous or sympathetic. The thin, plaster wall that divided our rooms held sound back with the same efficiency that a colander holds water. After listening to them go at it for about five minutes, I slipped back into the living room for a little peace and quiet.

Parker's head was leaned back, his arms spread out along the back of the couch. I couldn't see Madison from where I was standing, but moist, slurping sounds made it easy to guess where she was. I stood there in my doorway, caught between the pounding of Devon's bedframe against my wall and Parker's panting moans as Madison sucked him off. Directly across the living room, Lacey's door was closed. No light crept out beneath it. I wanted her. Even with everything going on around me, I wanted her. Resigned to my fate, I was just about to shut myself back into my bedroom when Parker noticed me. I met his intense gaze with a smile. Half-hidden behind my door, I let him see me slide a hand beneath the waistband of my skirt. His arms slipped out of sight. He was putting his hands in Madison's hair. Breathing hard and eyes half-lidded, I pretended to play with myself while he watched me. I wasn't interested in getting off. I just wanted Parker to be focused on me when he came in Madison's mouth. "Cum," I mouthed at him when the muscles in his neck started to tense. "Cum." I feigned an orgasm. Madison swallowed a real one. Somewhere in the middle of Parker's big finish, I softly closed my door.

Alcohol made Lacey violently ill. As a result, she was the perfect chauffer. The next night, we all piled into her van, a relic of the eighties. It had been a hand-me-down, retired work vehicle. The front seats were intact, but there was only open space behind them. Devon called shotgun, leaving Madison, Parker, and me sitting on packing blankets in the back. As per her usual, Madison was stunning. She was wearing a tight, black top that was equal parts substance and lace. A black skirt showed off her long, fishnet-sheathed legs. The only thing about the ride I enjoyed more than the view of Madison was the way Parker stole glances at me while he kissed her. I answered each of those glances with one of my own that promised future rewards for his brazen infidelity. When she wasn't busy marking her territory, Madison regaled me with painfully inconsequential factoids about other boys that would be at the party. It took a good bit of self-control not to tell her that I didn't need a boyfriend. I had hers. And Devon's too, for that matter.

The party was at a frat house a few blocks from the far end of campus. Lacey dropped us off and set out in search of parking. The rest of us went in together, but that cohesion didn't last long. Levi met us at the door. He and Devon were gone seconds later. I was starting to disapprove of that. He was only with Devon because I bribed him with sex. I was beginning to seriously wonder where his allegiances lay. Madison didn't give me much time to dwell on it. The house was dark, crowded, and loud. My own private Virgil was eager to give me the full tour of testosterone candy land. Like a good Dante, I followed along; ever the dutiful apprentice. We moved from room to room, pausing here and there so I could be introduced to an impressive assortment of plastic smiles, glad hands, and nose jobs. I was invariably presented as Madison's "new freshman roommate" as though that were some kind of classification, like ‘pet' or ‘ward'. Parker followed along behind us, doling out high-fives and chest-pumps where necessary and, on a couple of occasions, palming my ass with one hand while holding Madison's with the other. I was wearing combat boots, very short cutoffs, and a t-shirt with a wide neck that left a shoulder exposed. It made it easy for him to slip fingers inside. That sweet, unassuming boy I'd met on my second day at school? Dead and buried. I was proud of his blood on my hands.

At last, we stepped out into the backyard. This was where the real party was happening.

Under a covered patio, a wannabe DJ had set up shop, pumping out an uninspired mix of generic dance music. A small crowd, girls mostly, danced in front of the speakers. Open ice chests were haphazardly scattered about, offering an impressive array of cheap beers and wine coolers (You know, for the ladies. Men are so thoughtful when it comes to getting us drunk). Picnic tables sported stacks of plastic cups, random bottles of alcohol, and a few random mixers (read: coke, Red Bull, and orange juice). Out in the mottled grass, soaked and shirtless boys encouraged every girl in sight to take a turn on a Slip N Slide. There was no shortage of willing Barbies, some even stripping down to underwear before taking the plunge. As usual, I didn't have that option. There was skin everywhere. The wild excess of crowds wasn't really my thing. It's too anonymous. Left to my own devices, I would have found some unlikely corner and enjoyed the spectacle. Madison didn't let me.

"Brad, this is Evelyn," Madison said, presenting me to the man of honor. Brad (a chiseled boy with short, cropped hair and broad shoulders) shared a glance with Parker before settling his gaze on me. I saw knowledge in Brad's eyes. Parker had been bragging. Within minutes, I was surrounded by a host of circling vultures. I was getting a lot of attention from the boys and I could see it grating on Madison. I guess that's what provoked her to pull me over to where people were dancing. Cut to us fucking on the impromptu dance floor right? I wish. Madison danced in that terrible way straight girls dance with other girls to impress their boyfriends. She slithered against me, groped me clumsily, and kissed me with all the enthusiasm of a shy first grader. It was amazingly frustrating. I just wanted to grab her by the hair and twist her into a pretzel. The boys cheered us on, but I pulled away when the song ended.

"I'm going to get a drink. You up for one?" I asked Madison when we got back to the group.

"Sure," she answered, patting my ass as I went. It was all part of her ‘party girl' act. She probably expected me to come back with wine coolers.

Instead, I returned with two plastic cups. I handed her one, lifted the remaining one in salute, and said, "I bet this freshman can bet you to the bottom." The boys, quick to seize on an opportunity to get us drunk, began goading Madison to accept my challenge. She couldn't back down. Raising an eyebrow, Madison returned my salute and started to chug. She almost choked. I'd given her a cup full of vodka with just a hint of juice for color. It was probably more than she would have otherwise had all night. Madison was the clear favorite. The boys were chanting her name. Unwilling to lose face, she soldiered through it. I pretended to struggle, drinking just fast enough to make it look like a competition. Of course, my cup was full of straight orange juice. I let her win, which she did gracelessly.

The next time we danced, things were much different.

Parker and I kept Madison between us. She became our plaything, our surrogate. This time, when she kissed me, she meant it. She tasted like vodka and strawberry lip balm. Parker and I took turns with her mouth, passing it back and forth like a messenger. I slid down her body, inching up her top to expose her stomach. I tasted her skin, soft and salty from sweat. I wanted more. Rising again to sample her mouth, I slipped a hand under her top. She wasn't wearing a bra. I sucked her tongue, twister her hard nipple. We were hardly the only show, but quite a few people were watching the three of us. I would have made a point of exposing Madison's body to them, but our second dance ended too soon. Catastrophically intoxicated, Madison became too clumsy on her feet to remain on them. Parker and I had to half-carry her inside and onto a couch. We left her there, helpless and incoherent. The dance had provided a spark. Now there was fire. Abandoning Madison, Parker and I locked ourselves in a bathroom and fucked like the starving eat; ravenous and insatiable. There was nothing intimate or delicate about it. We tore at each other with fingernails. Our kisses landed like blows. My legs wrapped around him, Parker slammed me into the bathroom wall over and over again. I was still sore from Levi, but I didn't care. We both just needed to cum. Nothing else mattered.

I let him bend me over the sink and watched him fuck me in the mirror. Each of his thrusts pushed me onto the balls of my feet. It came as a surprise when he pulled out and pressed his cock against my ass. "Yes," I moaned back at him, sliding a hand beneath me to touch my clit. He entered me in slow, exquisite increments. I could feel myself stretching to accommodate him. My thighs danced and my knees buckled when he started pumping me in earnest. Oh, fuck. Oh, God. Parker... Parkerrrrrr...." I came hard enough that my jaw popped. He followed close behind, fingers digging into my hips. He roared as he unloaded into me. "Does she let you do that?" I asked.

I already knew the answer. I just wanted to make him say it.

After cleaning up, I left the bathroom first, a concession to Parker's fear of getting caught. Madison was right where we'd left her. The room was dark and smoky. A constantly shifting crowed flowed through the space, as though the room served only as a bridge to and from more desirable destinations. I slid onto the couch beside her and started kissing her. She was amazingly receptive, her tongue chasing after mine in the open space between our mouths. I lifted one of her legs and draped it over mine; spreading her thighs wide open. By the time Parker caught up, I was fingering her right there in the open. He sat on the other side of her, and I let him have her mouth as I sucked on her neck, intentionally marking it. Her insides clenched around my fingers in orgasmic spasms. When the last of her tremors passed, I withdrew my fingers and tasted her. Both Madison and Parker watched me do it. With her taste heavy on my lips, I kissed Madison again.

"I'm going to go find Lacey," I told Parker. "I think we should take her home." Nothing about my double meaning was lost on him.

So, my delicious little playthings, do you still want more?

I hope reading this makes you as hot as remembering it makes me. I made myself cum three times writing about it. Are you going to make me cum alone?

XOXO