"What gets you off?" she asked. "You like eating pussy, I can tell. You're good at it, too," she acknowledged. "But it isn't your cunt's heart's desire… You're a submissive, but you're no slave. You're not looking for a master. And you've got that fucking Spark."
I sat silently, watching the view, while she tried to figure me out. As she talked, I began to figure myself out, little by little.
"And you're not wetting your panties waiting for me to eat you, I can tell that, too. You want me to dominate you, but on your own terms."
She squinted at me, speculatively. "What is it that you're hoping I'll make you do, pussy?" She laid her hand in the V of my crotch, and began to massage it. I spread my legs a little to give her easy access.
"What gets you off?" she repeated. "Not this," she said, squeezing my clit against the side of my labia. I squirmed in languid pleasure. "You like it though. Yeah," she said, unzipping my pants and fingering my pussy and clit aggressively. "You like it but it doesn't take your breath away."
She thrust her finger fully up inside me and flexed it, while she brought her face close to mine. "I want to take your breath away," she breathed, her exhalation hot in my ear. She began to work her finger inside me with every word. "What. will. it. take. Pussy? What. Do I have one? To make. You. Do you?"
And just like that, I knew what I wanted from her. Or thought I did. I took hold of her wrist and gently guided it up and down, humping my hips to fuck her fingers. "I want you. To eat my cunt. In front of a line of men. Who are fucking my mouth. I want you. To make me cum. Over and over. While you make me. Eat their semen. I want you. To suck my clit. While men stroke their cocks. And cum. All. Over. Me." I pulled her hand out, and sucked her fingers clean, one by one. "That's what it will take, for you to take my breath away."
I looked her in the eyes. "Make me do that, and I'll be your willing slave, for one night. For that night, I'll do whatever you want, let you do anything that your cunt's heart desires."
She was breathing hard, already doing things to me in her imagination. "What's your name, pussy?"
I laughed. "Cindy the First, Gloryhole Queen of Squalor Park." I offered my hand. "Naughty to meet you."
We were both laughing. She gave me her hand, her fingers still damp from our encounter. "I'm Twylla Van Dyke," she announced.
"Well, of course you are."
She laughed again, throatily, starting the SUV and pulling back onto the road. "Oh, the things I'm going to do to you," she said hungrily.
"But first, I'm going to give you your cunt's desire. To take your breath away."
Her breathing grew ragged again. "I'm going to love watching you beg for it. And I know you're going to love begging."
I trembled a little, I was so turned on—from my hard nipples to my dripping slit. Was I insane?
She smiled, wickedly. "So you like cocks. You want a room full of pricks?
"I know just the place."
She drove on in silence. I sat beside her, frightened and aroused, wondering what I had gotten myself into, trusting my inner cum slut to guide me.
We pulled into a circular driveway in front of a mansion that had seen better days. The house and grounds were in decent shape, casually tidy but far from manicured. There were two large greek letters above the door, a triangle and a pair of vertical lines topped with a wavy one: Delta Pi.
It was a frat house, one with a nasty reputation. I'd been warned about it by Lonni. "You might get something you like there," she'd said, "but you might get a lot more besides. They don't always take 'no' for an answer once they get a girl behind closed doors."
"I've heard about this place," I said to Twylla, trying to keep the concern out of my voice.
"Worried?" she asked, seeing right through my calm pose. She grinned. "You should be. If you came here alone, looking for a bunch of guys to suck off, you'd get what you were looking for, all right, and be sorry you asked—probably wake up on the lawn at 4:00 a.m, with cum dribbling out of your ass and 'whore' written on your forehead in marker, or something worse. Shit happens here sometimes. Girls complain, but nothing changes. The little pricks are connected, protected by their rich daddies."
"Why do girls still come here, then?"
"Same reason we're here, puss. Lots of willing cocks. Rich, young, well-dressed, athletic cooks, for girls who care about that." She snorted derisively. "Most do. So they come." She shrugged. "Girls with no leverage sometimes wish they hadn't."
"Do you have leverage?"
She led me to the front door with a swagger. "Oh, yeah. They know me. We party sometimes, and I scare them. I know too much about these dickwads for them to fuck with me.
"Besides, I have a rich daddy, too. Nowhere near as rich as these walking dicks', but mine is a lawyer for the mob. If they lay so much as an unwanted finger on me, Daddy Will Sue. If he wins in court, he'll take their little trust funds away. If he loses… daddy gets very angry when he loses. Things get damaged," she smiled maliciously.
I shuddered. She laughed. "That's the spirit, little pussy queen. Welcome to the well-named DP house, the place that holds your cunt's big, stiff, spurting desire, and so much more.
"Seriously though, don't wander off. And don't accept anything to drink. Not unless it comes from the tip of a cock," she added dryly.
I straightened my shoulders. I was pushing my boundaries, I told myself, exploring. Celebrating my inner cum slut. Whatever happened, I was going to find out more about who I was, and what I wanted.
I had told Twylla what I thought I wanted, but how would I feel when it actually happened? My fear was overlaid with a growing erotic thrill. What had Twylla called it? My cunt's heart's desire. It might not be what I'd find, but it was finally what I knew I was looking for.
A handsome, well-groomed young stud answered the door, saw Twylla, and opened the way mock-courteously, gesturing us in. "Ms. Van Dyke," he greeted her. "Always a pleasure."
Twylla gave him a dangerous look. "Usually a pleasure," he amended. "None of our brothers have offended you, I hope."