MAKING OF DEEPIKA
When I hear both of my parents starting to snore in the room below me, I
quietly get out of bed and sneak over to my dresser. I dig past the
piles of underwear in the top drawer until I find what I am looking for.
I pull out the black silk panty and slide it up my shaved legs, tucking
my tiny cock back into the smooth crotch of it. Next, I pull on a black
petticoat, a black lacey blouse, and finally I wear a semi-transparent
black saree.
I look at myself in the mirror through the moonlight. From the shoulders down, I could definitely pass as a young woman. But in reality, I'm a slightly plump, not yet fully developed, twenty four-year old guy with more curves than muscle. My hair and eyes are brown; my cock about 5 ½ inches long and uncut.
I climb back into bed and lay down. I let my hands drift across my body, touching my curves and feeling the smooth silk against my skin. My mind starts to wander. I start to think about letting a man take me, letting him use me as his little slut and have his way with me. My hands begin to drift over more sensitive areas of my body. I start to lightly rub my cock through the silk material of the panty. It twitches at attention, and I start to rub the tip of it. It makes a small tent through the saree.
Bringing my knees up, and lift up my saree. I spread my legs a little bit. Without even realizing it, my hand drifts down to my asshole. I start to rub it through the side of my panties. My asshole twitches in anticipation.
I squirt some Vaseline on my fingers and pull aside the panty. I start to work some Vaseline around my ass before easily slipping in two wet fingers. My hole clamps around them tightly, and I let out a sigh. Shivers run up my spine. I pull my fingers out to my knuckles, and then slowly work them back in. I start to work up a rhythm, and begin to fuck myself with my fingers. I work in a third finger with little effort.
By now, I'm thrusting my ass against my hand and biting my pillowcase to keep myself from moaning. This needs to end soon, before I'm let out a squeal and wake up my parents.
Reaching under my bed, I search around with my hand until it touches plastic. It's a sample sized bottle of parachute oil. I've been using it to fuck myself with for a while now. It's the closest thing I could get to the shape and size of a cock.
I slather vaseline onto it and press it against my accepting asshole. It slides in slowly, and for a second I feel a sharp pain. It's almost instantly replaced with pleasure though, as the rest of the bottle slides up into me. I start to pump it slowly in and out of my little hole, spreading my legs wider, just like a good little slut.
I imagine that someone is using me. I slam the three fingers that were in my ass into my mouth and lick them clean, sucking on the greedily. I want to be used. I want to be someone's whore. I want to be filled with cum all day and all night. My deepest desire is to be a walking sperm ass-bank; to be ready for cock and expecting it at all hours.
With these thoughts, I begin to cum. I barely have to touch my cock, and already it's exploding warm sperm all inside my pantiy. I slam the shampoo bottle deeper into my ass as I cum, struggling not to moan. The orgasm finally subsides, and I let out a deep breath. I know what I have to do to be a good girl.
I pull the shampoo bottle out of my ass. It's covered in Vaseline and ass juice. I bring it to my mouth and lick it clean. I scoop up the little pool of cum that's collected inside my panty and lick it from my fingers. I hold it in my mouth for a while, enjoying the taste of it, before swallowing.
I strip my lady's clothes off and climb into bed naked. I fall asleep a little after, tired and unhappy at the fact that I have to wake up for college in the morning.
This is an ordinary night in my life.
I'm sitting on the benches in the basketball court the next day during lunch-break, watching the team run laps around the court. My younger sister is in the class, and I find it funny that as I'm watching her run, she has no idea that I'm wearing one of her panties under my jeans. She glances up at me and we make eye contact. She smiles and waves, and then continues her conversation with the girl she's running with.
The bell rings. I stand up and pretend to adjust my pants, but in reality I'm fixing my panty.
My sister stops running and comes up to me. Her friend is standing behind her. I catch her checking me out.
"Hey, I forgot to tell mom that I have practice in the evening after college," she says.
"Well, mom and dad aren't home tonight. They have that retirement party to go to."
"Ok then...well I might just stay at Karishma’s house tonight then," my sister says. I nod my head.
"Alright. But make sure you're back in the morning, mom and dad will be angry if they know I let you stay out," I warn. My sister smiles at me somewhat sarcastically. I roll my eyes and head to my locker.
In class, my mind wanders from Biology to more perverted things. I think about what I'm going to do when I get home. I decide which of my sister's outfits I'm going to try on first.
"Deepak!" my teacher-Mr.Desai-says. I look up and realize that he's calling on me to answer a question. "What happens during cellular replication?" he asks. I open my mouth to say something, but realize that I have no idea what the answer is.
I stutter for a moment, managing to say "I don't know." My teacher shakes his head.
"See me after class," he says. A few snickers echo throughout the classroom.
When the bell rings, I hope that Mr. Desai forgot that he had asked to see me, and I try to sneak past him.
"Deepak," he says. He motions for me with his finger. I approach his desk.
"What's up?" I ask. Mr. Desai sits down, sighing. He opens a desk drawer and flips through a row of files, finally pulling out a test with my name on it. Next to it is a huge "F" written in bright red ink. I stare at the test blankly.
"You have just failed this latest test. 20% is pathetic.," Mr. Desai says. "And you're constantly late for class." I say nothing. He looks up at me and raises his eyebrows.
"I know. I just get distracted easily," I stammer.
Mr. Desai holds his hand up to stop me.
"You know, I do offer an after college tutoring program. If you attended and showed some effort, I might be willing to be a little more open minded about your marks," he says.
I hesitate. The last thing I want is to have to stay after college to put up with even more of the subject that I simply hate.
"Of course, you can just stick with the F." Mr. Desai smiles at me.
"When is it?" I ask.
"Right after college," he replies. I nod my head.
"Sure, I can stop by for a little while."
"Good. I'll see you then."
For the rest of the afternoon, I think little of my tutoring session with Mr. Desai. However, I have no idea just how much it will end up changing my life...
At 3:00pm, I find Mr. Desai in his classroom, sitting at his desk and typing something into his computer. I'm the only student there; it's obvious that the tutoring isn't something many students choose to take advantage of.
"Deepak, you came. Have a seat," Mr. Desai says. I drop my bag to the floor and sit down in a desk that Mr. Desai had pulled up to his.
"Here, fill these problems out. These are some of the questions that are going to be on the next test, so it'll help you if you study them," he says, handing me a worksheet. I rush through it, wanting to get home as soon as possible so I could dress up and be a whore for the evening.
As I lean forward to hand Mr. Desai the worksheet, he says something that makes my heart stop.
"Nice color," he says.
It takes me a second to realize what he's referring to, but when I feel air against my bare back, I realize that he was referring to the strap of my neon green panty, which has risen up and is resting of my hip.
I feel my face turn hot with embarrassment. I quickly stand up and grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder.
"I need to go," I say. Mr. Desai is just smiling at me.
"It's not that big of a deal Deepak. I'm expecting you to stay here and earn your grade," he says. My heart begins to race as he walks over and shuts the door. "I know how dirty you've been," he says quietly. He slowly walks up behind me. "I can see your panty straps every once in a while. I can only imagine the thoughts that are going through your head."
I am at a loss for words. I don't know what to say. I'm not sure if this is a good thing, or if it's turning out to be something very, very bad. Mr. Desai clears his throat.
"Have you ever been with another man, Deepak?" he asks me. I swallow hard and shake my head. "Well, what if I told you that I could see to it that you pass my class with 90% every time?" I look up at Mr. Desai. I notice the obvious bulge in his pants. For some reason, this excites me. It brings out the entire other side of me; the bad part of me. I smile slyly at him. He gets the hint.
"Get up, now," Mr. Desai says. I obediently stand up and follow him into the storage room. He turns the dim light on and shuts the door behind us. Without warning, he unzips his pants and frees what is a massive cock. It has to be at least eight inches long, and very thick.
I stare at my first real cock in a mixture of lust and confusion.
"It's not going to suck itself Deepak," Mr. Desai whispers. I smile at him and get down on my knees.
Using what I've learned from practicing on my bottle, I slowly lick up the shaft of his cock, flicking my tongue against the head of it. My teacher begins to breathe heavier. I can feel myself starting to grow hard. It's turning me on so much to know that I'm pleasing an older man, especially my teacher. I work my lips down over the head of his cock, licking up his pre-cum and swallowing it. I let some of my saliva slip out of my mouth and down to the base of his cock, and use it as a lubricant to jack him off with one of his hands.
I get about half of his dick into my mouth, and we're working up a rhythm of him thrusting his penis into my mouth and me jacking off the base of it. Mr. Desai reaches down and pulls the straps of my panty up around my hips.
"You dirty little slut. I always thought you'd make a good little boy-whore," he moans. I look up at him and make eye contact, staring up at him innocently. I moan a little "mmm hmm," and continue my sucking.
"That's a good little bitch."
I'm rock hard now, stroking myself through my jeans. Mr. Desai is pushing almost his entire cock into my throat. I gag a little, but struggle to breathe through my nose and relax my throat muscles. I'm making it my mission to give him some of the best blowjob he's ever had.
His hands are pulling at my hair, forcing my head into his mass of pubic hair as his balls slap against my chin. I'm gagging with every thrust he makes, struggling not to vomit.
"Oh fuck yes. Oh god," Mr. Desai moans. Without warning, I suddenly feel something warm shoot down my throat. It causes me to gag really hard, but when I go to pull my head away, Mr. Desai forces it back down onto his cock. More of his cum shoots down my throat. It tastes warm and salty-kind of stringy. I gag again, forcing some of it to shoot out the sides of my mouth and down my chin. I swallow what I can, but there's too much, and a little bit more of it dribbles down onto the floor. Mr. Desai' breathing begins to slow, and he pulls his slick penis from my mouth with a slurping noise. I'm gasping for air.
Mr. Desai reaches down with his finger and scoops up the cum from my face, shoving it into my mouth roughly. I swallow it diligently. He smiles and zips up his pants.
"Keep that up, and you just might get your 90%," he says. I smile up at him naughtily.
"Can we do it again sometime?" I ask him. Mr. Desai' smile gets bigger.
"Of course we can Deepak. Maybe we can arrange for a study night at my place this weekend," he says.
"That'd be awesome!" I say. I gather my bag from the classroom and smile over my shoulder at him.
As I'm walking home, I can still taste the saltiness of the sperm in my mouth. I walk the rest of my way home pleased with myself. I just whored myself out for better marks, and I love it.
As I'm walking home, I can still taste the saltiness of the sperm in my mouth. I walk the rest of my way home pleased with myself. I just whored myself out for better marks, and I love it.
When I open the front door to my house, I'm already hard. I'm going to be home alone for an entire night, and I have a lot of things planned.
I toss my college bag and jacket onto the sofa, and by the time I reach my room I already have my shirt off. I let my pants drop to the floor and pull off the green panty, not bothering to hide it anywhere.
The first thing I decide to do is take a long, hot bath. I shave my legs of any hair that may have grown in the last couple of days, and proceed to shave my underarms, ass, and crotch, shaving my balls and pubic hair off and leaving only a small strip of fuzz above my cock. I like it that way...it makes me feel like a real little slut.
Satisfied that I'm good and smooth, I dry myself off and walk naked into my sister's room, sitting down in front of her dressing table. I look at myself in the mirror. From the waist down-aside from my rock hard cock-I could pass as a slutty girl. But my face is what gives everything away.
I've experimented with make-up before, but I've never had the opportunity to actually put a full effort into it. I want to go for the super slutty look, so I pick out some of my sister's most intense make-up.
First, I blend a liquid base onto my face, giving my skin a somewhat fairer tone. I then apply a very small amount of blush to my cheeks. Next, I decide on some black eyeliner and a dark blue glittery eye-shadow, which I blend with some light pink eye-shadow. After I'm finished with that, I put on some maroon-ish lip gloss, coating it on so much that my lips almost stick together.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I'm very proud with the work. My face really does look like one of a slutty girl. I slowly slide the tip of my tongue over my top lip, checking myself out. I realize that I need to do something about my hair.
My hair is shaggy and somewhat long, but it definitely isn't long enough yet to pull it into a ponytail. I'm brushing through it, trying to flatten it down, when I notice my sister's hair straightner. I pull my hair through it, and I notice that it takes on a thin texture and is much easier to style. I pull my bangs out and brush them down one side, and let the back of my hair tease out a little and go a little wild. It's a look that resembles that of Victoria Beckham whom I have seen in the fashion magazines my sister buys.
I paint my fingernails a sparkly red, along with my toenails. Satisfied with my transformation, I decide that it's time to pick out an outfit.
I pull on a hot pink panty, tucking my balls back into it. I pull the straps up around my hips like a good little girl. For a bra, I pick out a black push-up and pull together my man-boobs to fit convincingly into my sister's 34b bra.
After trying to decide between a skirt and a saree, I choose to go with the skirt. It's a white pleaded one, and is very short. It's so short, in fact, that if it blew up even a little bit in the back, someone would see my little ass cheeks. I pull on a hot pink tank-top and arrange my bra so that the cups are covered.. I liked it.
I pull on a pair of white sandals and check myself out in the mirror one more time. I really, honestly could pass as a girl, there's no doubt about it. The thought of this starts to get me hard, and I realize that I'm going to have to learn to control that if I am to try and pass as a girl.
I play with my plastic bottle for a little bit, sucking on it and teasing my asshole with it, but I decide that I need something a little bit more. Early today had put me in a very adventuresome mood, and I was willing to do almost anything. It's as if a light bulb turns on. I grab the phone book and look up Mr. Desai' number. I want to finish what I started.
After dialing him, a woman picks up after a few rings.
"Hello?" she asks.
"Is Mr. Desai there?" I ask, not bothering to change my voice. There's a pause on the other line.
"Yes, just a minute," she finally says. I can hear some mumbling between her and Mr. Desai in the background, and then he answers.
"Hello?"
"Hi Mr. Desai. This is Deepak from college," I say. There's a quiet gasp from the other end.
"Hold on just a second Deepak," he mutters. I hear a door shut as he goes into another room.
"That was my wife," he whispers, sounding somewhat irritated.
"I'm sorry," I say. "But...I was having some trouble with my homework and I was wondering if you could help me out." I say this in a cute, sly way - a way that would make it hard for anyone to ignore. There's another long pause on the other end.
"Let me eat dinner, and I'm sure we can work something out," Mr. Desai says. My heart starts racing faster. I'm finally going to get fucked!
I give Mr. Desai my address and he tells me that he'll be here in an hour.
While I'm waiting for him, I pace back and forth nervously in the living room, a porno playing in the background. I check my make-up and rearrange my bra about eight hundred times. It seems like only a few minutes go by, but close to an hour later-around eight-there's a knock on the door.
I take a deep breath and calm myself. I'm actually more nervous than I thought I would be. I slowly open the door and take a step back. Mr. Desai is standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. He slowly looks up at me and gasps.
"Wow...Deepak?" he asks. I smile at him.
"Deepika," I reply, doing my best to sound like a girl. A naughty smile falls across Mr. Desai' face, and he takes a step toward me, kicking the door behind him. There's no hesitation. We get right down to business.
Mr. Desai wraps his arms around my waist and pulls my close to him. I wrap both of my arms around his neck and pull him to me, kissing him hard with my gloss covered lips. I probe his mouth with my tongue and breathe heavily into him, moaning softly as his hands move up and down my body. They find my ass and squeeze it tightly through my skirt before lifting the back of it up and touching my bare ass. I lower one of my arms and reach down for his cock, still while kissing him heavily. He's already rock hard, and I stroke him through his jeans.
Fuck this, I think to myself. I know damn well what I want, and I'm not going to wait for it any longer. I unbutton his jeans with one hand and pull them down to his knees. His hands are groping at my "tits" now and he's burying his face into my neck, nibbling lightly and giving me a hickey. His hard cock is making a tent in his briefs, and it causes me to pull his underwear down too. I kiss Mr. Desai lightly on the lips and look at him in the eyes. Gently giving him a little push, I direct him to the sofa and sit him down, taking charge. He watches me with the most lustful eyes I've ever seen. I'm so hard that my cock is trembling.
"Oh yeah baby, work that wonderful mouth of yours on my cock," Mr. Desai says. I grin at him and kneel down on the floor in front of him, taking his entire cock all the way into my mouth. I gag and quickly recoil, pulling it out and catching my breath. Taking it slower, I work my mouth down around his shaft and begin pumping him in and out, jacking off the base of him with the spit and precum from my sloppy blowjob. His fingers are running through my hair, and he slaps my hand away from his cock, forcing my head all the way down. He hits the back of my throat and I gag again and try to pull away, but he slams me down even harder and shoves his cock all the way down my throat. His balls slap against my chin as he face-fucks me, and I'm struggling to catch my breath. Finally, he stops and pulls out, slapping his dick roughly across my cheek. I moan and give him a naughty look, grinning slightly.
That must have encouraged Mr. Desai even more, because he pulls me up and throws me down on the sofa. He grabs me by the hips and lifts my ass up in the air, my face buried in a pillow.
"You're such a little whore Deepika," he says.
"Uh-huh!" I giggle, wiggling my ass. Mr. Desai lifts my skirt up over my ass and pulls the string of my underwear away. Without hesitation, he shoves his face between my cheeks. I spread them apart with my hands to help him. I feel wetness against my asshole, followed by a huge amount of pleasure. I push myself back against Mr. Desai' tongue, letting him probe my smooth asshole with it. I shut my eyes and begin to moan softly as he laps away at my asshole, spreading it apart with his tongue and working it in just a little. He traces around the ring of my hole with his tongue and then pushes hard against my opening, fucking my little boy hole with it.
Once he feels that I'm excited enough-it's not as if I already wasn't-Mr. Desai slaps my ass and tells me to stand up. I oblige, and he pulls down my skirt, leaving my panty and sandals on. He produces a bottle of Baby Oil from his pocket and slathers it onto his eight inch penis.
"Lean down over the armrest of the sofa whore," he demands. I nervously bend over the side of the sofa, still standing up, and bury my face in my arms. I've fucked myself plenty of times with my plastic bottle, but I've always known that that wouldn't be enough to prepare me for the real thing.
Mr. Desai squirts some oil onto two of his fingers and roughly smears it onto my already saliva covered asshole. He works two fingers in and fucks me with them for a few seconds, lubing me up on the inside too. By the time he's finished, my asshole is dripping wet, just waiting to be invaded by a nice, throbbing cock.
In just a few seconds, it is. Mr. Desai pulls me back a little, readjusting me. I push my ass up towards him more.
"Spread your legs apart more," he says. I do, and he pulls my panty down and lets it stay around my shins. He's holding me apart with one hand and guiding his cock with the other. I relax and shut my eyes, trying to keep my asshole from tensing.
I feel something warm against my hole, and then a sharp pain as he pushes the head of himself in. I let out a loud squeal and bite my bottom lip in pain, balling my fists and trying to relax.
"Oh shit. You're a little virgin aren't you?" Mr. Desai asks.
"Uh-huh..." I cry. He pushes himself in further, to about half way. He pulls back out to his tip, and then pushes back in half way. He slowly fucks me like this for about thirty seconds, getting me used to the feeling of having a real cock inside of me, and then, without warning, he pushes himself into me until his balls are resting against my ass cheeks.
"Oh shit!" I cry out. He grabs my hips and holds me there like that for a minute or so. I can feel myself starting to relax around him, and the sharp pain starts to slowly go away. It's replaced with a feeling of fullness and pleasure, only so much better. This is throbbing, has veins, and is warm. A plastic bottle is entirely different. Just from having a real cock inside of me for only a few minutes, I'm already starting to realize how much I love it.
Mr. Desai pulls out about halfway and then slides back in. I open my eyes and turn around. We make eye contact, and I lick my lips and bite my bottom lip. He starts to work up a faster rhythm, grabbing onto my hips and pulling me against him. I try to help, and grind myself against him to the rhythm of his thrusts. When he's pushing into me, I'm pushing back against him.
"God-dammit girl, you're pussy feels so good," Mr. Desai says. Hearing him talk like that to me only excites me even more. It makes me realize that I really am a fucking slut. Here I am, fucking my Biology teacher, just because I wanted some cock. God, I'm such a little whore!
"Oh yeah Mr. Desai. Fuck me. I just want you to fuck me," I say. He breaths heavily and starts slamming into me harder. We're going at a really fast pace now, and he's pulling me hard against him. I can hear the sound of our skin slapping together and his balls slamming against my asscheeks-mixed with the slurping sound of his bare cock slamming into my soaking wet asshole.
It feels like he's pushing against something inside of me, that's how hard and deep Mr. Desai is fucking me. Without any warning, he suddenly pulls out of my ass. I let out a little farting sound and I instantly feel empty. I can feel the cool air against my gaping hole.
"Get down on your back bitch," Mr. Desai orders. I lay down on the sofa and he grabs my legs and tosses them up over his shoulders. He places his cock at the entrance of my boy-pussy and immediately shoves it back into me and starts fucking me even harder than he was before.
Getting fucked in this position must be hitting my prostate, because I instantly feel an intense sensation in my groin. It feels almost like I have to pee at first, but I learn to accept the feeling and it soon becomes extremely pleasurable.
Mr. Desai shoves three of his fingers into my mouth and keeps fucking me.
"I'm gonna fucking cum in your little pussy," he yells. I wrap my legs around him and pull him closer. His body rests on top of mine as he slams into me.
"Yeah sir. Fuck my little pussy like the little whore that I am. Cum inside of me and make me feel it splashing against my insides," I whisper into his ear. I nibble at his earlobe lightly and let out a low moan. This sends him over the top, and he lets out a yell and starts to slam into me with long, hard strokes. I can feel his cock throbbing as it shoots his load into me. A warm wetness shoots inside of my ass, I can feel it washing against my rectal wall and going deep inside of me.
The "splat splat" sound of Mr. Desai cock fucking me gets louder as he fills me up with his cum, and he eventually slows down, collapsing on top of me and breathing heavily. He kisses me passionately and I can feel him slowly withdrawing his softening penis from my hole. There's a slurping noise as he pulls out, and I can feel his warm cum dribble out and run down my asscrack. He notices it too, and reaches down and scoops some of it up with his fingers.
I start to jack myself off as he feeds me his cum right from my gaping asshole. He works three fingers into me and starts jiggling them violently, pushing against my prostate. I shudder and let out a yell, shooting a long strand of cum up onto my hot pink tank-top. Stream after stream shoot out and land on my stomach and abdomen as he works my g-spot with his hand.
We're both breathing heavily as my orgasm subsides. He pulls his fingers from my hole and stands up, muttering something to himself about how much of a slut I am. I really do feel like a slut too. A part of me feels a little bit guilty, but I quickly dismiss it and remind myself of how much I love my new lifestyle.
"Where's your shower?" Mr. Desai asks.
In the shower, we wash ourselves off, and I end up sucking Mr. Desai off again, letting him cum in my mouth. I, of course, diligently swallow his load, savoring the taste in my mouth before letting it slowly slide down my throat.
Mr. Desai gets dressed without saying a word. I'm standing in my living room in only a towel as he laces up his shoes. Both of us are silent.
Without even looking at me, he stands up and walks out the front door, closing it softly behind him.
I change into my sister’s silk red nightgown and a matching panty and fall asleep playing with my asshole, admiring how adjusted it's becoming to a cock fucking it. I spend the rest of the weekend in the house, dressing up for a good part of the time whenever my sister's gone at her friend's house
TO BE CONTINUED.......
I look at myself in the mirror through the moonlight. From the shoulders down, I could definitely pass as a young woman. But in reality, I'm a slightly plump, not yet fully developed, twenty four-year old guy with more curves than muscle. My hair and eyes are brown; my cock about 5 ½ inches long and uncut.
I climb back into bed and lay down. I let my hands drift across my body, touching my curves and feeling the smooth silk against my skin. My mind starts to wander. I start to think about letting a man take me, letting him use me as his little slut and have his way with me. My hands begin to drift over more sensitive areas of my body. I start to lightly rub my cock through the silk material of the panty. It twitches at attention, and I start to rub the tip of it. It makes a small tent through the saree.
Bringing my knees up, and lift up my saree. I spread my legs a little bit. Without even realizing it, my hand drifts down to my asshole. I start to rub it through the side of my panties. My asshole twitches in anticipation.
I squirt some Vaseline on my fingers and pull aside the panty. I start to work some Vaseline around my ass before easily slipping in two wet fingers. My hole clamps around them tightly, and I let out a sigh. Shivers run up my spine. I pull my fingers out to my knuckles, and then slowly work them back in. I start to work up a rhythm, and begin to fuck myself with my fingers. I work in a third finger with little effort.
By now, I'm thrusting my ass against my hand and biting my pillowcase to keep myself from moaning. This needs to end soon, before I'm let out a squeal and wake up my parents.
Reaching under my bed, I search around with my hand until it touches plastic. It's a sample sized bottle of parachute oil. I've been using it to fuck myself with for a while now. It's the closest thing I could get to the shape and size of a cock.
I slather vaseline onto it and press it against my accepting asshole. It slides in slowly, and for a second I feel a sharp pain. It's almost instantly replaced with pleasure though, as the rest of the bottle slides up into me. I start to pump it slowly in and out of my little hole, spreading my legs wider, just like a good little slut.
I imagine that someone is using me. I slam the three fingers that were in my ass into my mouth and lick them clean, sucking on the greedily. I want to be used. I want to be someone's whore. I want to be filled with cum all day and all night. My deepest desire is to be a walking sperm ass-bank; to be ready for cock and expecting it at all hours.
With these thoughts, I begin to cum. I barely have to touch my cock, and already it's exploding warm sperm all inside my pantiy. I slam the shampoo bottle deeper into my ass as I cum, struggling not to moan. The orgasm finally subsides, and I let out a deep breath. I know what I have to do to be a good girl.
I pull the shampoo bottle out of my ass. It's covered in Vaseline and ass juice. I bring it to my mouth and lick it clean. I scoop up the little pool of cum that's collected inside my panty and lick it from my fingers. I hold it in my mouth for a while, enjoying the taste of it, before swallowing.
I strip my lady's clothes off and climb into bed naked. I fall asleep a little after, tired and unhappy at the fact that I have to wake up for college in the morning.
This is an ordinary night in my life.
I'm sitting on the benches in the basketball court the next day during lunch-break, watching the team run laps around the court. My younger sister is in the class, and I find it funny that as I'm watching her run, she has no idea that I'm wearing one of her panties under my jeans. She glances up at me and we make eye contact. She smiles and waves, and then continues her conversation with the girl she's running with.
The bell rings. I stand up and pretend to adjust my pants, but in reality I'm fixing my panty.
My sister stops running and comes up to me. Her friend is standing behind her. I catch her checking me out.
"Hey, I forgot to tell mom that I have practice in the evening after college," she says.
"Well, mom and dad aren't home tonight. They have that retirement party to go to."
"Ok then...well I might just stay at Karishma’s house tonight then," my sister says. I nod my head.
"Alright. But make sure you're back in the morning, mom and dad will be angry if they know I let you stay out," I warn. My sister smiles at me somewhat sarcastically. I roll my eyes and head to my locker.
In class, my mind wanders from Biology to more perverted things. I think about what I'm going to do when I get home. I decide which of my sister's outfits I'm going to try on first.
"Deepak!" my teacher-Mr.Desai-says. I look up and realize that he's calling on me to answer a question. "What happens during cellular replication?" he asks. I open my mouth to say something, but realize that I have no idea what the answer is.
I stutter for a moment, managing to say "I don't know." My teacher shakes his head.
"See me after class," he says. A few snickers echo throughout the classroom.
When the bell rings, I hope that Mr. Desai forgot that he had asked to see me, and I try to sneak past him.
"Deepak," he says. He motions for me with his finger. I approach his desk.
"What's up?" I ask. Mr. Desai sits down, sighing. He opens a desk drawer and flips through a row of files, finally pulling out a test with my name on it. Next to it is a huge "F" written in bright red ink. I stare at the test blankly.
"You have just failed this latest test. 20% is pathetic.," Mr. Desai says. "And you're constantly late for class." I say nothing. He looks up at me and raises his eyebrows.
"I know. I just get distracted easily," I stammer.
Mr. Desai holds his hand up to stop me.
"You know, I do offer an after college tutoring program. If you attended and showed some effort, I might be willing to be a little more open minded about your marks," he says.
I hesitate. The last thing I want is to have to stay after college to put up with even more of the subject that I simply hate.
"Of course, you can just stick with the F." Mr. Desai smiles at me.
"When is it?" I ask.
"Right after college," he replies. I nod my head.
"Sure, I can stop by for a little while."
"Good. I'll see you then."
For the rest of the afternoon, I think little of my tutoring session with Mr. Desai. However, I have no idea just how much it will end up changing my life...
At 3:00pm, I find Mr. Desai in his classroom, sitting at his desk and typing something into his computer. I'm the only student there; it's obvious that the tutoring isn't something many students choose to take advantage of.
"Deepak, you came. Have a seat," Mr. Desai says. I drop my bag to the floor and sit down in a desk that Mr. Desai had pulled up to his.
"Here, fill these problems out. These are some of the questions that are going to be on the next test, so it'll help you if you study them," he says, handing me a worksheet. I rush through it, wanting to get home as soon as possible so I could dress up and be a whore for the evening.
As I lean forward to hand Mr. Desai the worksheet, he says something that makes my heart stop.
"Nice color," he says.
It takes me a second to realize what he's referring to, but when I feel air against my bare back, I realize that he was referring to the strap of my neon green panty, which has risen up and is resting of my hip.
I feel my face turn hot with embarrassment. I quickly stand up and grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder.
"I need to go," I say. Mr. Desai is just smiling at me.
"It's not that big of a deal Deepak. I'm expecting you to stay here and earn your grade," he says. My heart begins to race as he walks over and shuts the door. "I know how dirty you've been," he says quietly. He slowly walks up behind me. "I can see your panty straps every once in a while. I can only imagine the thoughts that are going through your head."
I am at a loss for words. I don't know what to say. I'm not sure if this is a good thing, or if it's turning out to be something very, very bad. Mr. Desai clears his throat.
"Have you ever been with another man, Deepak?" he asks me. I swallow hard and shake my head. "Well, what if I told you that I could see to it that you pass my class with 90% every time?" I look up at Mr. Desai. I notice the obvious bulge in his pants. For some reason, this excites me. It brings out the entire other side of me; the bad part of me. I smile slyly at him. He gets the hint.
"Get up, now," Mr. Desai says. I obediently stand up and follow him into the storage room. He turns the dim light on and shuts the door behind us. Without warning, he unzips his pants and frees what is a massive cock. It has to be at least eight inches long, and very thick.
I stare at my first real cock in a mixture of lust and confusion.
"It's not going to suck itself Deepak," Mr. Desai whispers. I smile at him and get down on my knees.
Using what I've learned from practicing on my bottle, I slowly lick up the shaft of his cock, flicking my tongue against the head of it. My teacher begins to breathe heavier. I can feel myself starting to grow hard. It's turning me on so much to know that I'm pleasing an older man, especially my teacher. I work my lips down over the head of his cock, licking up his pre-cum and swallowing it. I let some of my saliva slip out of my mouth and down to the base of his cock, and use it as a lubricant to jack him off with one of his hands.
I get about half of his dick into my mouth, and we're working up a rhythm of him thrusting his penis into my mouth and me jacking off the base of it. Mr. Desai reaches down and pulls the straps of my panty up around my hips.
"You dirty little slut. I always thought you'd make a good little boy-whore," he moans. I look up at him and make eye contact, staring up at him innocently. I moan a little "mmm hmm," and continue my sucking.
"That's a good little bitch."
I'm rock hard now, stroking myself through my jeans. Mr. Desai is pushing almost his entire cock into my throat. I gag a little, but struggle to breathe through my nose and relax my throat muscles. I'm making it my mission to give him some of the best blowjob he's ever had.
His hands are pulling at my hair, forcing my head into his mass of pubic hair as his balls slap against my chin. I'm gagging with every thrust he makes, struggling not to vomit.
"Oh fuck yes. Oh god," Mr. Desai moans. Without warning, I suddenly feel something warm shoot down my throat. It causes me to gag really hard, but when I go to pull my head away, Mr. Desai forces it back down onto his cock. More of his cum shoots down my throat. It tastes warm and salty-kind of stringy. I gag again, forcing some of it to shoot out the sides of my mouth and down my chin. I swallow what I can, but there's too much, and a little bit more of it dribbles down onto the floor. Mr. Desai' breathing begins to slow, and he pulls his slick penis from my mouth with a slurping noise. I'm gasping for air.
Mr. Desai reaches down with his finger and scoops up the cum from my face, shoving it into my mouth roughly. I swallow it diligently. He smiles and zips up his pants.
"Keep that up, and you just might get your 90%," he says. I smile up at him naughtily.
"Can we do it again sometime?" I ask him. Mr. Desai' smile gets bigger.
"Of course we can Deepak. Maybe we can arrange for a study night at my place this weekend," he says.
"That'd be awesome!" I say. I gather my bag from the classroom and smile over my shoulder at him.
As I'm walking home, I can still taste the saltiness of the sperm in my mouth. I walk the rest of my way home pleased with myself. I just whored myself out for better marks, and I love it.
As I'm walking home, I can still taste the saltiness of the sperm in my mouth. I walk the rest of my way home pleased with myself. I just whored myself out for better marks, and I love it.
When I open the front door to my house, I'm already hard. I'm going to be home alone for an entire night, and I have a lot of things planned.
I toss my college bag and jacket onto the sofa, and by the time I reach my room I already have my shirt off. I let my pants drop to the floor and pull off the green panty, not bothering to hide it anywhere.
The first thing I decide to do is take a long, hot bath. I shave my legs of any hair that may have grown in the last couple of days, and proceed to shave my underarms, ass, and crotch, shaving my balls and pubic hair off and leaving only a small strip of fuzz above my cock. I like it that way...it makes me feel like a real little slut.
Satisfied that I'm good and smooth, I dry myself off and walk naked into my sister's room, sitting down in front of her dressing table. I look at myself in the mirror. From the waist down-aside from my rock hard cock-I could pass as a slutty girl. But my face is what gives everything away.
I've experimented with make-up before, but I've never had the opportunity to actually put a full effort into it. I want to go for the super slutty look, so I pick out some of my sister's most intense make-up.
First, I blend a liquid base onto my face, giving my skin a somewhat fairer tone. I then apply a very small amount of blush to my cheeks. Next, I decide on some black eyeliner and a dark blue glittery eye-shadow, which I blend with some light pink eye-shadow. After I'm finished with that, I put on some maroon-ish lip gloss, coating it on so much that my lips almost stick together.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I'm very proud with the work. My face really does look like one of a slutty girl. I slowly slide the tip of my tongue over my top lip, checking myself out. I realize that I need to do something about my hair.
My hair is shaggy and somewhat long, but it definitely isn't long enough yet to pull it into a ponytail. I'm brushing through it, trying to flatten it down, when I notice my sister's hair straightner. I pull my hair through it, and I notice that it takes on a thin texture and is much easier to style. I pull my bangs out and brush them down one side, and let the back of my hair tease out a little and go a little wild. It's a look that resembles that of Victoria Beckham whom I have seen in the fashion magazines my sister buys.
I paint my fingernails a sparkly red, along with my toenails. Satisfied with my transformation, I decide that it's time to pick out an outfit.
I pull on a hot pink panty, tucking my balls back into it. I pull the straps up around my hips like a good little girl. For a bra, I pick out a black push-up and pull together my man-boobs to fit convincingly into my sister's 34b bra.
After trying to decide between a skirt and a saree, I choose to go with the skirt. It's a white pleaded one, and is very short. It's so short, in fact, that if it blew up even a little bit in the back, someone would see my little ass cheeks. I pull on a hot pink tank-top and arrange my bra so that the cups are covered.. I liked it.
I pull on a pair of white sandals and check myself out in the mirror one more time. I really, honestly could pass as a girl, there's no doubt about it. The thought of this starts to get me hard, and I realize that I'm going to have to learn to control that if I am to try and pass as a girl.
I play with my plastic bottle for a little bit, sucking on it and teasing my asshole with it, but I decide that I need something a little bit more. Early today had put me in a very adventuresome mood, and I was willing to do almost anything. It's as if a light bulb turns on. I grab the phone book and look up Mr. Desai' number. I want to finish what I started.
After dialing him, a woman picks up after a few rings.
"Hello?" she asks.
"Is Mr. Desai there?" I ask, not bothering to change my voice. There's a pause on the other line.
"Yes, just a minute," she finally says. I can hear some mumbling between her and Mr. Desai in the background, and then he answers.
"Hello?"
"Hi Mr. Desai. This is Deepak from college," I say. There's a quiet gasp from the other end.
"Hold on just a second Deepak," he mutters. I hear a door shut as he goes into another room.
"That was my wife," he whispers, sounding somewhat irritated.
"I'm sorry," I say. "But...I was having some trouble with my homework and I was wondering if you could help me out." I say this in a cute, sly way - a way that would make it hard for anyone to ignore. There's another long pause on the other end.
"Let me eat dinner, and I'm sure we can work something out," Mr. Desai says. My heart starts racing faster. I'm finally going to get fucked!
I give Mr. Desai my address and he tells me that he'll be here in an hour.
While I'm waiting for him, I pace back and forth nervously in the living room, a porno playing in the background. I check my make-up and rearrange my bra about eight hundred times. It seems like only a few minutes go by, but close to an hour later-around eight-there's a knock on the door.
I take a deep breath and calm myself. I'm actually more nervous than I thought I would be. I slowly open the door and take a step back. Mr. Desai is standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. He slowly looks up at me and gasps.
"Wow...Deepak?" he asks. I smile at him.
"Deepika," I reply, doing my best to sound like a girl. A naughty smile falls across Mr. Desai' face, and he takes a step toward me, kicking the door behind him. There's no hesitation. We get right down to business.
Mr. Desai wraps his arms around my waist and pulls my close to him. I wrap both of my arms around his neck and pull him to me, kissing him hard with my gloss covered lips. I probe his mouth with my tongue and breathe heavily into him, moaning softly as his hands move up and down my body. They find my ass and squeeze it tightly through my skirt before lifting the back of it up and touching my bare ass. I lower one of my arms and reach down for his cock, still while kissing him heavily. He's already rock hard, and I stroke him through his jeans.
Fuck this, I think to myself. I know damn well what I want, and I'm not going to wait for it any longer. I unbutton his jeans with one hand and pull them down to his knees. His hands are groping at my "tits" now and he's burying his face into my neck, nibbling lightly and giving me a hickey. His hard cock is making a tent in his briefs, and it causes me to pull his underwear down too. I kiss Mr. Desai lightly on the lips and look at him in the eyes. Gently giving him a little push, I direct him to the sofa and sit him down, taking charge. He watches me with the most lustful eyes I've ever seen. I'm so hard that my cock is trembling.
"Oh yeah baby, work that wonderful mouth of yours on my cock," Mr. Desai says. I grin at him and kneel down on the floor in front of him, taking his entire cock all the way into my mouth. I gag and quickly recoil, pulling it out and catching my breath. Taking it slower, I work my mouth down around his shaft and begin pumping him in and out, jacking off the base of him with the spit and precum from my sloppy blowjob. His fingers are running through my hair, and he slaps my hand away from his cock, forcing my head all the way down. He hits the back of my throat and I gag again and try to pull away, but he slams me down even harder and shoves his cock all the way down my throat. His balls slap against my chin as he face-fucks me, and I'm struggling to catch my breath. Finally, he stops and pulls out, slapping his dick roughly across my cheek. I moan and give him a naughty look, grinning slightly.
That must have encouraged Mr. Desai even more, because he pulls me up and throws me down on the sofa. He grabs me by the hips and lifts my ass up in the air, my face buried in a pillow.
"You're such a little whore Deepika," he says.
"Uh-huh!" I giggle, wiggling my ass. Mr. Desai lifts my skirt up over my ass and pulls the string of my underwear away. Without hesitation, he shoves his face between my cheeks. I spread them apart with my hands to help him. I feel wetness against my asshole, followed by a huge amount of pleasure. I push myself back against Mr. Desai' tongue, letting him probe my smooth asshole with it. I shut my eyes and begin to moan softly as he laps away at my asshole, spreading it apart with his tongue and working it in just a little. He traces around the ring of my hole with his tongue and then pushes hard against my opening, fucking my little boy hole with it.
Once he feels that I'm excited enough-it's not as if I already wasn't-Mr. Desai slaps my ass and tells me to stand up. I oblige, and he pulls down my skirt, leaving my panty and sandals on. He produces a bottle of Baby Oil from his pocket and slathers it onto his eight inch penis.
"Lean down over the armrest of the sofa whore," he demands. I nervously bend over the side of the sofa, still standing up, and bury my face in my arms. I've fucked myself plenty of times with my plastic bottle, but I've always known that that wouldn't be enough to prepare me for the real thing.
Mr. Desai squirts some oil onto two of his fingers and roughly smears it onto my already saliva covered asshole. He works two fingers in and fucks me with them for a few seconds, lubing me up on the inside too. By the time he's finished, my asshole is dripping wet, just waiting to be invaded by a nice, throbbing cock.
In just a few seconds, it is. Mr. Desai pulls me back a little, readjusting me. I push my ass up towards him more.
"Spread your legs apart more," he says. I do, and he pulls my panty down and lets it stay around my shins. He's holding me apart with one hand and guiding his cock with the other. I relax and shut my eyes, trying to keep my asshole from tensing.
I feel something warm against my hole, and then a sharp pain as he pushes the head of himself in. I let out a loud squeal and bite my bottom lip in pain, balling my fists and trying to relax.
"Oh shit. You're a little virgin aren't you?" Mr. Desai asks.
"Uh-huh..." I cry. He pushes himself in further, to about half way. He pulls back out to his tip, and then pushes back in half way. He slowly fucks me like this for about thirty seconds, getting me used to the feeling of having a real cock inside of me, and then, without warning, he pushes himself into me until his balls are resting against my ass cheeks.
"Oh shit!" I cry out. He grabs my hips and holds me there like that for a minute or so. I can feel myself starting to relax around him, and the sharp pain starts to slowly go away. It's replaced with a feeling of fullness and pleasure, only so much better. This is throbbing, has veins, and is warm. A plastic bottle is entirely different. Just from having a real cock inside of me for only a few minutes, I'm already starting to realize how much I love it.
Mr. Desai pulls out about halfway and then slides back in. I open my eyes and turn around. We make eye contact, and I lick my lips and bite my bottom lip. He starts to work up a faster rhythm, grabbing onto my hips and pulling me against him. I try to help, and grind myself against him to the rhythm of his thrusts. When he's pushing into me, I'm pushing back against him.
"God-dammit girl, you're pussy feels so good," Mr. Desai says. Hearing him talk like that to me only excites me even more. It makes me realize that I really am a fucking slut. Here I am, fucking my Biology teacher, just because I wanted some cock. God, I'm such a little whore!
"Oh yeah Mr. Desai. Fuck me. I just want you to fuck me," I say. He breaths heavily and starts slamming into me harder. We're going at a really fast pace now, and he's pulling me hard against him. I can hear the sound of our skin slapping together and his balls slamming against my asscheeks-mixed with the slurping sound of his bare cock slamming into my soaking wet asshole.
It feels like he's pushing against something inside of me, that's how hard and deep Mr. Desai is fucking me. Without any warning, he suddenly pulls out of my ass. I let out a little farting sound and I instantly feel empty. I can feel the cool air against my gaping hole.
"Get down on your back bitch," Mr. Desai orders. I lay down on the sofa and he grabs my legs and tosses them up over his shoulders. He places his cock at the entrance of my boy-pussy and immediately shoves it back into me and starts fucking me even harder than he was before.
Getting fucked in this position must be hitting my prostate, because I instantly feel an intense sensation in my groin. It feels almost like I have to pee at first, but I learn to accept the feeling and it soon becomes extremely pleasurable.
Mr. Desai shoves three of his fingers into my mouth and keeps fucking me.
"I'm gonna fucking cum in your little pussy," he yells. I wrap my legs around him and pull him closer. His body rests on top of mine as he slams into me.
"Yeah sir. Fuck my little pussy like the little whore that I am. Cum inside of me and make me feel it splashing against my insides," I whisper into his ear. I nibble at his earlobe lightly and let out a low moan. This sends him over the top, and he lets out a yell and starts to slam into me with long, hard strokes. I can feel his cock throbbing as it shoots his load into me. A warm wetness shoots inside of my ass, I can feel it washing against my rectal wall and going deep inside of me.
The "splat splat" sound of Mr. Desai cock fucking me gets louder as he fills me up with his cum, and he eventually slows down, collapsing on top of me and breathing heavily. He kisses me passionately and I can feel him slowly withdrawing his softening penis from my hole. There's a slurping noise as he pulls out, and I can feel his warm cum dribble out and run down my asscrack. He notices it too, and reaches down and scoops some of it up with his fingers.
I start to jack myself off as he feeds me his cum right from my gaping asshole. He works three fingers into me and starts jiggling them violently, pushing against my prostate. I shudder and let out a yell, shooting a long strand of cum up onto my hot pink tank-top. Stream after stream shoot out and land on my stomach and abdomen as he works my g-spot with his hand.
We're both breathing heavily as my orgasm subsides. He pulls his fingers from my hole and stands up, muttering something to himself about how much of a slut I am. I really do feel like a slut too. A part of me feels a little bit guilty, but I quickly dismiss it and remind myself of how much I love my new lifestyle.
"Where's your shower?" Mr. Desai asks.
In the shower, we wash ourselves off, and I end up sucking Mr. Desai off again, letting him cum in my mouth. I, of course, diligently swallow his load, savoring the taste in my mouth before letting it slowly slide down my throat.
Mr. Desai gets dressed without saying a word. I'm standing in my living room in only a towel as he laces up his shoes. Both of us are silent.
Without even looking at me, he stands up and walks out the front door, closing it softly behind him.
I change into my sister’s silk red nightgown and a matching panty and fall asleep playing with my asshole, admiring how adjusted it's becoming to a cock fucking it. I spend the rest of the weekend in the house, dressing up for a good part of the time whenever my sister's gone at her friend's house
TO BE CONTINUED.......