The Classified Ad (Mf anal oral) by Foxbat


Disclaimer:  The characters in this story are completely fictional,
and bear no intended resemblance to characters in real life.  This story
contains graphic sex, in some cases non-consensual, and should not be
read if such stories are illegal in your state, or if you are a minor.

Please feel free to distribute this, on the condition that the
disclaimer and author's name remain intact and unaltered.

For previous parts, or other stories of mine, please check out
http://assm.asstr.org.

You can search by title or author, or just browse.  Happy reading.

Thanks to ASSTR, I also have a website at
http://www.asstr.org/~foxbat/ where you can find all of my work.  This
is also available via ftp at ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/foxbat/


Feedback, comments, suggestions, etc are always welcomed and
appreciated at foxbat00@gmail.com


Part 1.


   A pretty blond knelt before me, buck ass naked.  Her knees were apart, and her eyes downcast.  She was a bad slut.

   "Do you know why you're a bad slut?" I asked the girl.  There was a pause.  

   "Because I came when you told me not to."  She replied.  There wasn't any real fear in her voice - any that was present was entirely self-induced.  

   "Why did you come against orders?"  I asked the girl, dropping my gaze to her crotch, which I'm sure was quite wet just from the humiliating nature of this exchange.

   "Because I couldn't help it - the buttplug you told me to wear today made me feel so horny."

   I knelt next to her.  She was a tall athletic girl, the kind that you can immediately spot as a basketball player from across campus.  Her somewhat curly blond hair was gathered behind her head in a loose pony tail.  I let my hand run down her back, over her ass crack and the base of the buttplug.  I pushed a finger into her dripping pussy as she shivered and tried to hold still.

   "You're soaking wet, you dirty slut."  I pushed her forward onto her hands and knees.  Winding up, I whacked her on the ass a few times as she yelped in pain, clearly doing her best to keep the noise to a minimum.  Walls in the dorm were thin.  

   Without further ado, I yanked the buttplug from her tightly clenched anus and replaced it with two fingers.  Sucking in her breath, the girl was doing her best to accommodate the new invasion, as I thrust my fingers in and out.  I withdrew my fingers after a moment, transferred my hand to her mouth.  Using my other hand to open my fly, my cock, which was raging hard by now, sprang out. Without adding any more lube than that left over from the buttplug's insertion, I thrust as far as I could into her ass.

   She made a long moan/screech/scream noise as I penetrated her posterior for the first time.  Not giving her time to adjust, I began vigorously hammering into her ass, enjoying the tightness and friction on my cock.  Leaning forward, I roughly grabbed her tits and pinched hard on her nipples.  Looking down, I saw her mouth was open and her eyes squeezed shut in a delicious look of pain mingling with pleasure.  I had kept her in a hyper-sexual frenzy for the last hour, and I could tell it wouldn't much more to put her over the edge in a major way.  

   I reached my hand back between her legs and began alternately rubbing and slapping her cunt, watching her twitch and jerk in reaction.  When she started coming, the pressure was too much for me and I ground as far into her as I could before pulling out and dumping my load of sperm all over her pretty face.  I wiped my cock off on her forehead.

   I was already putting my clothes back on before she really moved from the position she'd been in while I fucked her.  

   She smiled.  

   "Mmm... that was good." She murmured.

   "You're such a slut," I replied as I smiled, blew her a kiss, and walked out the door.


* * *

   As I was walking back to my room, I reflected for a moment on how Allison had come into my life.  It was a fairly recent thing - my girlfriend of two years and I had only broken up a few months ago.  There had been nothing wrong with that relationship, but it lacked any sort of zest or real excitement.  We'd had lots of sex, and she probably considered herself fairly liberal because she would let me do her doggy style, but she wasn't into anything that was out there - no bondage, butt sex or any of that.  

   I, on the other hand, had always been sort of fascinated by it.  I'd never really had a chance to indulge those desires, but I was reasonably content to limit myself to masturbating while thinking about it occasionally.  It had never really been a sticking point in the relationship, since I'd never made a big deal of it, but since being a free man, I'd found myself thinking about it more and more, and sort of hoping that the next girl I met might be a bondage freak or a pain slut.

   Then one night, a bunch of my buddies and I were reading the local newspaper over late night pizza at our favorite hang out, when we ran across the classified section.  There were the usual "M looking for F" and "F looking for M" and "Gay/Lesbian" sections, but then there was an "eXXXtreme" section, which our attention was drawn to.  The first ad was 40 year old guy looking for school girls to act out his spanking fantasy.  The ads just seemed to get more ridiculous from there though - one lady was looking for a pair of thai midgets to join her and her husband in bed, another man was looking for Amazonian women who were handy with the strap-on and could "put some meat between the buns."  We got a good laugh that night from some of the sick shit people were looking for, but it got me thinking. 

   I wondered what kind of people would place an ad in the paper like that, I mean, really.  You look at the ads, but it's strange when you realize that someone actually wrote in.  And, although lots were funny, the majority were serious.  

   I found myself coming back to that thought a lot in the next few days.  Maybe it really wasn't so strange.  Just as there must be people who would put in the ads, there must be people who would respond.  All the ad revealed about the poster was the phone number, and that was hardly damning.  

   It took me about a week to settle on the idea that I would put in an ad.  I convinced myself that it would probably not yield anything, or at least nothing serious.  I jokingly thought I might have to dodge a few fat ugly old women, and at least that would be amusing.  It would be totally worth it on the off chance it turned up someone good.  So I typed up an ad and mailed it in to the paper with a $8 check for it to run for 3 weeks.

   And promptly forgot all about it.  Midterms arrived, and life got busy.  I checked the papers once or twice in the first few days to make sure it was there, and did a little fantasizing about what might happen, but, having satisfied my obsession, I didn't really think much about it.

   * * *

   I was walking out of the post office after checking my mailbox when my cell phone went off.  My phone didn't recognize the phone number, but it was from the local area code, so I answered it.

   "Hi... umm.... Are you Will?"  A very nervous female voice asked.

   "Yeah... what's up?"  I responded, having no idea who I was dealing with.

   "Uh... Did you, um..."

   I heard silence, so I looked at the display.  The call ended.  I figured it was a wrong number or something.  If she wanted to ask me something, she'd call back.  I turned and was about to start walking back to my room when the phone rang again.

   "Hi.  Sorry.  I'm really nervous, but I'm just going to say it.  Did you put an ad in the Herald?"  I could hear her bracing herself for the answer.  At first I was thinking commercial advertisement, and I was about to say no, and then I remembered.  

   "Yeah - I did."  It was at this point that the adrenaline hit me.  "Holy Shit - someone actually responded to that ad!" I thought.   And she didn't sound fat, ugly or old.  I could hear the relief on the other side of the line as I tried to think of something to say.  I hadn't really considered how this conversation would go, or even what the next step would be.

   "I guess we should meet, then," I responded somewhat at a loss.  "Just to make sure we're both what the other is expecting.  Shall we meet at Koffee Korner?"  Koffee Korner was a little coffee shop frequented by businessmen as well as students as it was basically on the border between campus and the financial district of the city.  I had no idea whether the woman on the phone was a fellow student, a local resident, or what, and KK was a pretty neutral place.  "I'll be wearing a blue sweater.  Is Monday at 4 ok?"

   "Sure."  The phone went dead.  I was already counting the hours until Monday.


 
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Sorry for the slow start - this is a somewhat challenging story for me.  As always, I love to hear feedback from people on what they think.


Yours
Foxbat
