Slutty College Girl Fucks Five Fraternities

Ingrid had the list in her head before she even left her apartment. Five houses. Five men. One weekend. She was twenty-one, a junior who had stopped pretending she wanted anything softer than new cock, and the craving had been chewing at her since Thursday night. She wanted to be used by a different brother in a different fraternity until her legs shook and her throat was raw and she still had enough left to smile about it. No boyfriend. No waiting around. Just a route across campus and the nerve to walk in and say what she wanted.

She put on a short black skirt and a thin top that showed the shape of her tits, left her panties in the drawer, and went out into the warm Friday evening with her hair loose down her back. The first house was brick and loud, music rolling out of open windows, brothers in their twenties lounging on the porch like they owned the dark. Ingrid walked straight through them. She found Reid by the stairs, twenty, a senior who stood like the whole place answered to him. Dark eyes, rolled sleeves, a mouth that looked like it knew how to be mean in the way she liked.

He looked her over once, slow. “You looking for somebody?”

“I’m looking to get railed.” She stopped close enough that he could feel the heat off her skin. “I’m Ingrid. Twenty-one. Sober. Not playing. Your house is the first on my list. I want you to fuck me before I go on to the next one.”

His brows went up, and then his whole face sharpened into something hungry. “You walk in here and say that like you’re ordering a drink.”

“Because I am.” She held his eyes. “Five fraternities. Five cocks. This weekend. I started with the one who looked like he could actually handle a slut who knows what she wants. That’s you, if you’re not all talk.”

Reid’s hand closed on her hip, firm, possessive, already sure of her. The air between them snapped tight. Her bold hunger met his eager dominance and neither of them blinked. He leaned down until his mouth brushed her ear, voice low and rough. “Say it again where I can watch your mouth do it.”

“I want your cock,” Ingrid said, clear and shameless. “I want you to bend me over and fuck me until I can’t talk. I want to leave this house used. Yes. Right now.”

He exhaled like she’d struck a match against his ribs. His thumb pressed into the bare skin above her skirt. “You’re serious.”

“I’m dripping serious. Take me upstairs or watch me find a brother who will.”

That did it. Reid’s grip tightened and he smiled, all teeth and heat. “Upstairs. My room. You’re going to take every inch, and you’re going to tell me how bad you need it while you do.” He caught her wrist and pulled her toward the stairs, and the tension between them burned so hot she could feel it in her clit before he’d even gotten her clothes off.

Word moved faster than she did. By the time she left the first house with her skirt crooked and Reid’s fingerprints still warm on her hips, a brother on the next porch already knew her name. She told them anyway. At the second house she walked up to a tall man with a sharp jaw and said, “I’m Ingrid, twenty-one, and I’ve already taken one cock tonight. I want yours next. I want to get on my knees for you.”

Casimir was twenty-two, a senior who went still when she said it, then smiled like a man handed a gift he intended to unwrap with his teeth. “One already,” he said, stepping in until her back met the hallway wall. “And you came here begging for a second. Say how greedy you are.”

“Greedy enough to swallow you,” she said. “Greedy enough to keep going after. Don’t be gentle about it.”

He dragged her by the hand into a dark side room before she’d finished the sentence, competitive heat rolling off him. “Then you don’t get to be shy. Open that mouth and show me what the first one didn’t ruin.”

The third house was worse, in the way she wanted. A brother named Declan, twenty-two, met her at the door with his arms crossed and his eyes already on her mouth. “Heard you’re collecting us,” he said. “Two down. You here to make it three?”

“Yes.” Ingrid didn’t lower her voice. “Two cocks already, and my pussy’s still aching. I want you to put me on my back and pound me. I want it deep. I want to beg.”

A woman Ingrid’s age, Talia, twenty-two, with dark curls and a wicked little grin, was leaning in the doorway. “She’s not lying,” Talia said. “Whole campus is talking. You want help holding her still, Declan, or you want her all to yourself?”

“Hold my hair,” Ingrid told her, flushed and sure. “I want both of you in it. I want him to use me while you make me take it.”

Declan’s control cracked. He swore, caught Ingrid around the waist, and hauled her down the hall toward an empty bedroom, Talia laughing and following, the three of them already filthy with it.

At the fourth house the talk had turned mean and horny before she crossed the threshold. Harlan, twenty-three, broad through the shoulders, didn’t bother with hello. “Three,” he said. “That’s what they’re saying. Three cocks and you’re still hunting. You that much of a slut?”

“Four, after you,” Ingrid said, stepping into his space, tipping her chin up. “If you can pick me up and fuck me against a wall like you mean it. I’ve been used all day and I still want it harder. Compete. Ruin me. I’m asking.”

He lifted her like she weighed nothing, her legs locking around him, and carried her into a shadowed corner while brothers in their twenties whooped and looked away to give them the dark. “You’re going to feel every one of them when I’m in you,” he growled. “And you’re going to thank me.”

By the fifth house the frenzy had a pulse of its own. Silas, twenty-one, met her on the back steps at the edge of night, eyes bright, jaw tight with want. “Four,” he said. “You really took four today.”

“And I walked here wet from all of them,” Ingrid said. “I want the fifth. I want you to put me facedown and pull my hair and fuck me until I can’t hold still. Use me. I’m not done.”

He didn’t ask twice. He caught a fistful of her hair, gentle enough to check her, hard enough to make her moan, and when she gasped yes he dragged her inside toward a bedroom that already smelled like heat. “Then get on that bed,” Silas said. “Last cock of the night is going to make the other four feel like a warm-up.”

Reid shut the door and had her bent over the desk before the music downstairs could catch up. Ingrid braced her palms on the wood, skirt shoved to her waist, bare ass tipped up, and looked back at him over her shoulder. “Like that,” she said. “Don’t make me wait. Fuck me.”

He dragged his cock through her slick folds once, groaning at how wet she was, then pushed in. The stretch stole her breath. Thick, hot, steady, he filled her in one long drive until his hips met her ass and she cried out, shameless. “God, yes. That’s it. Use your slut.”

Reid’s hands locked on her hips and he started to thrust, deep and unhurried at first, then harder when she pushed back onto him and begged for it. The desk knocked the wall. Her tits swayed under the thin top. Every stroke dragged over the sweet spot inside her and she told him so, voice breaking. “Harder. I came here to get railed, not petted. Fuck me like you own this hole.”

“Greedy little thing,” he gritted, and gave it to her. The pace turned rough, wet sounds filling the room, his balls slapping her clit on the deeper thrusts. Ingrid came with a sharp, startled wail, clenching around him, and he didn’t stop. He fucked her through it until her thighs shook, then pulled out, sat on the edge of the bed, and hauled her into his lap facing away.

“Ride,” he ordered. “Reverse. I want to watch that ass work.”

She sank onto him again, both of them groaning, and planted her feet. Reverse cowgirl let her take him at her own filthy angle, rolling her hips, grinding down until he was buried to the root. Reid’s hands spread her ass and guided her, thrusting up to meet every drop of her weight. “Look at you,” he said. “Taking the first cock of the weekend like you were built for it. Bounce. Make me proud I was number one.”

“Number one,” she panted, riding him hard, hair sticking to her neck. “And I’m still going to go get more. Fill me. Make me remember you when the next one slides in.”

He snarled and fucked up into her, fast and deep, until she came again, pulsing around his cock, and he followed with a rough shout, spilling inside her in hot pulses. Ingrid stayed seated on him, trembling, smiling at the wall. “Good,” she whispered. “That’s one.”

Casimir didn’t waste the dark room. He pushed her to her knees on the rug, unzipped, and fed her his cock while she looked up at him with her mouth already open. “Two,” he said, thumb on her lip. “Show me you can still suck after getting fucked.”

Ingrid moaned around him and took him deep, tongue working the underside, hand stroking what her throat couldn’t hold yet. He was thick, salty at the tip, and she wanted all of it. She hollowed her cheeks and bobbed, spit shining her chin, and when he groaned she went lower, letting him nudge her throat. “That’s it,” Casimir said, voice wrecked. “Filthy girl. You told the whole house you came for this. So take it. Swallow every drop when I give it to you.”

She pulled off just long enough to say, “Yes. Cum in my mouth. I want to taste number two,” then sank down again, eager, messy, one hand between her own thighs because she couldn’t help it. Casimir’s control lasted another minute. His fingers tangled in her hair, not forcing, just holding, and he warned her with a broken curse. Ingrid stayed on him. He came hard, pulsing over her tongue, and she swallowed, throat working, licking him clean while he shuddered and called her a perfect greedy slut. She sat back on her heels, lips wet, and smiled. “Two.”

Declan put her on the bed on her back and shoved her knees up. Talia climbed up beside Ingrid’s head, gathered that long hair in both fists, and looked down at her. “You sure?” Talia asked, grinning.

“Sure,” Ingrid said. “Hold me. Let him pound me. I want three.”

Declan lined up and sank into her soaked pussy in one smooth thrust, both of them gasping. Missionary let him go deep, his weight bracing over her, and he set a hard rhythm immediately, hips snapping, the wet slap of it loud in the room. Talia kept Ingrid’s hair taut, tipping her face up so every moan had somewhere to go. “Listen to her,” Talia said. “She’s been a slut all day and she’s still begging.”

“Harder,” Ingrid cried, nails in Declan’s shoulders. “I’ve had two already and I need you to fuck me like you’re trying to win. Use my pussy. Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He drove into her, grinding at the end of each stroke, thumb finding her clit and rubbing rough circles until she shattered, wailing, cunt fluttering around him. Talia held her through it, murmuring filth, and Declan fucked her harder, chasing his own edge, sweat dripping onto her chest. “Three,” he growled. “Take three. You’re so fucking wet from them I can feel it.” He buried deep and came with a hoarse shout, pulsing inside her, and Ingrid locked her legs around him and took every throb, thanking him in a wrecked little voice while Talia finally let her hair go and laughed, soft and pleased.

Harlan didn’t bother with a bed. In the dark corner he hiked her up, her back to the wall, her legs around his waist, and pushed his cock into her in one sure lift. The standing carry knocked the breath out of her. Gravity did half the work. Every time he dropped her onto him she took him to the hilt, stuffed full, clit grinding his stomach. “Four,” he said against her mouth. “You feel that? All of them and you still open right up. Slut.”

“Yes,” Ingrid gasped, arms around his neck, bouncing as much as the hold allowed. “Four. Fuck me against the wall. Make it hurt so good. I want to feel you tomorrow when I sit down.”

He braced a forearm beside her head and pounded up into her, relentless, the wall cool at her back and his body burning at her front. Her tits bounced. Her moans went high and broken. Brothers’ laughter drifted from another room and she didn’t care. She came shaking in his arms, crying his name and then just yes, yes, harder, and Harlan snarled and fucked her through it until his rhythm broke. He stayed buried, grinding, and spilled deep with a raw groan, holding her up while she trembled and clenched and milked him. When he finally set her on her feet her knees nearly failed. She kissed his throat, wicked and grateful. “Four. Thank you.”

Silas put her facedown on the bed and dragged her hips up just enough to get inside, then flattened her again, his chest to her back, one hand fisted in her hair. Prone, pinned, she could only take it. He pushed in slow once, letting her feel the thick slide through all the mess the others had left, and then he fucked her in short, brutal strokes that knocked little sounds out of her with every thrust. “Five,” he said at her ear. “Last one. You wanted your hair pulled. You wanted to be used. Beg for it.”

“Pull it,” Ingrid sobbed, pushing her ass back as much as his weight allowed. “Fuck me harder. I’m your slut, I’m everybody’s slut tonight, and I still want more. Use me. Don’t you dare go easy.”

He tightened his fist and gave her exactly that, hips slapping her ass, cock driving deep, the bed creaking under them. Sweat stuck their skin together. She came so hard she saw white, screaming into the mattress, and he didn’t let up, fucking her through the aftershocks until she was babbling yes and please and five, five, five. The rhythm turned ragged. Silas groaned, pulled out at the last second, and flipped her onto her back.

He stroked himself twice and came in thick, hot stripes across her tits, painting her chest while she lay there wrecked and smiling, watching him do it.

Ingrid dragged two fingers through the mess on her tits, licked them clean, and looked up at Silas with a wicked, satisfied smile. “Thank you,” she said. “That was a hell of a fifth.”

She fixed her skirt, stepped out into the gray beginning of dawn, sore in every good way and already aching for more, and started planning which five new houses she would hit the following weekend.