Foreword: This is a work of fiction. None of the people in this story are real. None of these events ever happened. This story is nothing more than words that came from my imagination. Any similarity to any real people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Operators of erotic story web sites, whether free or fee-based, have my permission to post my stories for public reading, provided that credit is given to "Hungry Guy" (email@example.com or firstname.lastname@example.org) as the author, and as long as you don't make changes other than fixing typos. Even beware of fixing typos, for I occasionally use local slang and dialects that may be flagged by your spell checker. Thanks.
Wayne went to the Rathskellar after classes to relax, have a beer or two, listen to the music, and maybe even read a book. The college bar was a warren of rooms and alcoves furnished in rustic brick and stained wood throughout.
While the bar was standing room only in the front where the band was blasting away at 110db, in the back there was plenty of room to stretch out and relax. The music was relatively distant and quiet in the rear of the bar.
Wayne found one of the back rooms relatively empty. It was here one could often observe couples making out in the booths, on cushioned chairs, or even horizontally dry-humping on the padded back-less benches that dotted the floor. Of course, there were always also a few others like him who just came to read or study in a relaxed atmosphere.
In this particular room, one or two of the tables were quietly occupied and the benches were nearly all vacant. He knew that, a little later, even this haven from the crowd would fill up a little more, but the rear rooms never got so packed that there wasn't a place to sit or even stretch out if one was so inclined.
Wayne set his knapsack on the floor, pulled out Much Ado About Nothing for which a report was due the following week, sat on one of the many vacant padded benches, and lay back. He started to read.
After about an hour, the bar had begun to fill, and the din had begun to make reading difficult. He placed the book back in his knapsack, and laid back down to close his eyes to immerse himself in the music.
Some time later, hearing some people sit at the he bench adjacent to his he looked up to see. A group of women had taken a seat on the bench adjacent to his, above his head from his perspective.
One woman in a green skirt, tight blouse, and a little too much makeup, was standing chatting with her friends. She looked down and caught his eye just as he opened his and looked up. Alas, had she been standing just a little closer, he could have seen up her skirt. Figuring it would be polite to relinquish the long bench and move to a chair, he asked, "Would you like to sit here?"
"Thank you," she answered, but before he could sit up, she had lifted her skirt, backed her ass up over his head, and sat on his face.
He barely had time to gasp when he realized that she wasn't wearing panties or stockings. In that fleeting instant, he saw her hairy cunt and deep dark ass crack come down on his eyes and jaw. She settled her full weight on his face when she sat, and it felt like his skull was being crushed by a padded anvil. He could feel her skirt draped over his neck and surmised that it was draped all around her lap and his head as she sat on his head.
His nose felt like it was impaling her pussy, and her asshole was right over his mouth. As erotically wonderful as it felt, he suddenly realized that he couldn't breathe, plus he was in the middle of a bar full of people. Was this girl nuts?
He reached up and pushed against her back to push her off, but she said, "What's the matter, don't you like girls?"
"I think he needs to breathe?" one of the others said.
She then slid her ass forward, up his face, while remaining seated. With his mouth so uncovered, he resumed breathing through his mouth and through her ass crack.
He then decided that if she was so determined to use his face as her chair, why not enjoy it? His cock had become so hard, poking out against his pants, that he had to tug on his belt to let it spring up flat against his belly.
From then on, he didn't know how much time had passed. He guessed that she would probably get off after a few minutes when the joke wore off, but she remained sitting, gabbing with her friends on and on and on. He felt her wiggle and squirm on his face when the discussion about hot guys and hot professors became a bit animated.
He also noticed something else, her pussy was gradually getting wetter and wetter, and a trickle of pussy juice was slowly dribbling into his nose.
As the hours passed under her ass while he hocked down pussy juice through his nose, waitresses come and served the women beers and chips as their conversation drifted to who got laid when, to tough exams, to crappy cafeteria food, to what happened last night on The Sopranos, and on, and on, and on...
.... There is more of this story ...