Free Open Your Legs for my Family by Aphrodite Hunt

 
OPEN YOUR LEGS FOR MY FAMILY
     
    1
     
    I’m the youngest member ever to get into Phi
Kappa Omega, the greatest club Gifford has ever known. I have a
gorgeous blond boyfriend who has a body to die for. I’m the envy of
every girl in campus. Yes, even the seniors.
    Sometimes I can’t believe it myself.
    But I have gone through experiences that no
other freshman has ever been through. None of it is for the
fainthearted. I have been fucked in every orifice, spanked, bound,
exhibited, displayed, experimented with and tortured in the name of
pleasure.
    I consider myself pretty, but not
overwhelmingly beautiful. Not in the way models or even some of the
girls on campus are. A girl like me shouldn’t be able to snare a senior boyfriend like Max Devlin.
    And yet I did. He’s mine, every inch of his
glorious awesomeness.
    I can’t take my eyes off him.
    I mean, just look at him. How his
wife-beater shows off his pecs – his nipples like little damson
stones beneath the thin white material. His muscular arms – shaped
by doing thirty laps a day in the choppy waters of the campus
Olympic-sized swimming pool. His V-shaped abdomen flaring to hips
that make me want to run my hands all over. His sinew-packed legs
in his tight, tight jeans.
    How can any woman not desire Max Devlin? One
look at him, and lust pangs are elicited between my legs. My dreams
are filled with him being inside me – his long legs wrapped around
me, his cock hard and long within the silky purse of my vagina –
thrusting deeply into me, filling me with ecstasy and the frothy,
rich pools of his sperm.
    Ohhh. I made that dream a reality yesterday,
and I’m going to relive it tonight.
    I hug myself with glee.
    The very object of my desire is in the
driver’s seat of his Porsche 911. He looks over to me and smiles.
“A dime for your thoughts.”
    “They’re worth just a dime?” I say
playfully.
    We’re on our way to his parents. Yes. You
heard that right. Max Devlin is bringing me to meet his family.
    And we’ve only known each other for, like,
what? Less than two months in total?
    The last couple of weeks have been bliss.
More sex than I can dream of – just me and him, intimately joined
on his bed. Moonlight walks in the park, our fingers intertwined.
Long romantic dinners in pricey restaurants.
    One telepathic push, and maybe he’ll be able
to read my mind and know that I love red roses. In floral
arrangements. With a little card that says ‘P/s: I love you’.
    I think, for all my bravado, that I’m a
shameless romantic.
    Every day for the last two weeks, I wake up
next to him. I turn my head on the pillow and push my nose against
his neck to imbibe his wonderful manly scent. I have to pinch
myself several times to make sure this is real. I have Max Devlin
as my boyfriend, and he is in bed beside me.
    Me .
    We don’t speak of what happened during my
Initiation. We don’t speak of the countless of men who have fucked
me in every single one of my pleasure holes. My past only comes up
during our foreplay, where he displays an affinity for metal clamps
. . . to be secured on me. It doesn’t matter. I’ve learned to like
the intimate pain, the numbness that flowers every time my nipples
or clit or pussy lips are gathered and pinched by the hard
metal.
    We speak only of today . . . and
tomorrow.
    “What are your parents like?” I ask.
    He gives a short laugh. “Weird.”
    Something in the way he says this makes me
think their relationship may be strained.
    I press on. “Do you get along with
them?”
    “What makes you think I don’t?” He shoots me
a quizzical look.
    Well, it’s the way your father made his
security guard strip-search you back in those gardens. But of
course, I don’t say this.
    “My father is a philanthropist,” he offers.
“He’s also the chairman of a multinational pharmaceutical company,
but he likes to be known as a philanthropist. He goes around the
world raising funds for causes like Darfur and the landmine