Chapter 8: Fucking Mary on Top of Her Boyfriend

I’d always been a horny bastard, ever since puberty hit like a freight train. Tempting young chicks had been my kryptonite, their bodies teasing my imagination as I wondered what they looked like under their clothes, how their skin would feel against mine, how tight and warm their pussies would be as I thrust into them. Through high school and into college, I’d had my share of conquests - more than most guys, really - and my girlfriend was a bombshell, sexy as hell, with a body that could make any man jealous. Still, the hunger never faded.

I’d always been a horny bastard, ever since puberty hit like a freight train. Tempting young chicks had been my kryptonite, their bodies teasing my imagination as I wondered what they looked like under their clothes, how their skin would feel against mine, how tight and warm their pussies would be as I thrust into them. Through high school and into college, I’d had my share of conquests, more than most guys, really, and my girlfriend was a bombshell, sexy as hell, with massive tits that could make any man jealous. Still, the hunger never faded.

It was no coincidence, then, that I found myself pursuing a Ph.D. project centered around female menstruation cycle, ovulation and brain function, a subject that gave me an endless parade of gorgeous, fertile women to study. Hundreds of them came through my lab, stripped down to skin-tight spandex as they lay on the cold table of an MRI scanner. Immobilized, the perfect young bodies of my subjects were exposed to my gaze under the pretense of science. The rhythmic rise and fall of their chests, the subtle curves of their hips, the inviting outlines of their bare skin, every session felt like a forbidden peek behind the curtain of my fantasies.

It was intoxicating. And it gave me ideas, especially after one particularly memorable session with a young and incredible horny subject, Tania. She was strikingly beautiful, with a flirtatious energy that simmered just beneath the surface. During her session, her unusual arousal was palpable, heightened by the intimate nature of the experiment. She made it clear she wanted me, and before long, I found myself fucking her right there while her brain was still inside the MRI scanner.

This chance encounter then led to the discovery of tx34, a drug that shattered any remaining boundaries. It turned even the most reserved or off-limits women into dripping, insatiable messes of raw desire. With tx34, inhibitions melted, resistance crumbled, and every woman became a willing participant in my fantasies. It wasn’t just a tool, it was a ticket to a world where seduction wasn’t necessary, where the gap between teasing and taking disappeared entirely. The possibilities were endless, and I didn’t hesitate to explore every single one of them.

At first, it was all about the thrill of seduction, the rush of bending their resistance until they begged for me. But over time, I noticed something else. The drug didn’t just heighten arousal, it seemed to override birth control entirely. A couple of pregnancy announcements from women who swore they were on the pill forced me to confront the unintended consequences of my actions. I wasn’t just fucking, I was breeding, leaving behind a trail of pregnancies that could explode into scandal if I wasn’t careful.

That’s when I shifted my focus. Married, out-of-town tourists became my new targets. They were perfect: sexy, untouchable, and most importantly, temporary. No one would connect the dots when their bellies started to swell months later. I avoided the chaos and suspicion that came with fucking the local girls, and the added thrill of cuckolding their wealthy husbands was too tempting to resist.

Then came Paula, a chance encounter on a lunch break that spiraled into something unforgettable. She was everything I’d come to crave: stunningly beautiful, married, and completely out of my league. A former Miss Albania turned trophy wife, she practically radiated elegance and unattainable allure. Yet, in a matter of less than an hour, she was in my dorm-room, her inhibitions melted away, her tight dress discarded on my floor as she straddled me with desperate need.

That fuck wasn’t like the others. Her body was a masterpiece, and the way she moaned my name as she rode me burned itself into my memory. The contrast between her flawless, toned frame and the primal desperation in her movements was exhilarating. She came again and again, her perfect face twisted in ecstasy, completely lost to the pleasure I gave her. By the time I filled her bare, tight pussy, her eyes were glassy, her body trembling from the onslaught of orgasms.

Fucking Paula wasn’t just another notch on my belt, it was a declaration. She wasn’t just a woman; she was a symbol of power, of conquest. Every moment with her was a reminder of how far I’d come, how much I’d changed since I first stumbled onto this dangerous, thrilling path.

And then there was the money. That fat stack of cash she’d left behind, an envelope stuffed with bills that I’d never imagined holding, let alone owning, was now mine. The weight of it wasn’t just physical; it had planted something in me, a new sense of confidence - or maybe arrogance? That kind of money doesn’t just change your bank balance. It changes the way you see yourself. I’d gone from being a broke student scrounging for beers at cheap pubs to someone who could casually drop enough cash to bankroll a dorm party and still have plenty left over.

The party, of course, was an opportunity I couldn’t resist. A few days after my encounter with Paula, the dorm was alive with excitement for a graduation bash, a farewell to those moving on from college life. I saw my chance to make a splash and called in a favor with the organizers, offering to cover the bar costs. Nothing massive, but enough to make sure everyone remembered the guy who made the drinks flow freely.

The dorm’s large communal kitchen had been transformed into a chaotic, makeshift nightclub. Someone had hooked up a decent sound system, and the thumping bass shook the walls. A strobe light flickered erratically, casting fragmented glimpses of bodies moving to the beat, while a fog machine churned out thick clouds that added a surreal, almost dreamlike quality to the scene. The air was charged with energy, the kind that only comes from the combination of youth, alcohol, and the promise of fleeting, reckless connections.

My girlfriend, Susan, had stayed back, her heavily pregnant body keeping her away from the chaos. She didn’t mind; these days, her focus was on nesting and preparing for the twins. That left me free to show up alone, blending into the crowd without the weight of responsibility. It was freeing, a reminder of what life had been like before commitments and consequences began to creep in.

The party was already in full swing when I arrived. The music was deafening, the air filled with the mingling scents of sweat, cheap beer, and perfume. Bodies packed the makeshift dance floor, writhing and grinding with uninhibited abandon, their laughter and shouts punctuating the pounding beats. I grabbed a soda, not wanting to dull my senses too quickly, and found a spot near the edge to watch the scene unfold.

It didn’t take long for the atmosphere to pull me in. The girls danced like they were performing on stage, their movements bold, teasing, and shameless. Every turn of their hips, every flick of their hair seemed designed to capture attention. The guys stood in clusters, beers in hand, their eyes glued to the tantalizing displays before them. It was a familiar college ritual, one I’d seen countless times, but tonight it felt different. Maybe it was the money burning a hole in my pocket or the lingering high from Paula, but I felt like I was seeing it all through a new lens.

The music pulsed louder, the fog swirled thicker, and the lights flashed in frantic rhythms, setting the tone for the night. The girls danced with wild, uninhibited abandon, their bodies moving like they were made for sin under the pulsating lights. Every sway of their hips, every teasing arch of their backs, drew attention like moths to a flame. The fog machine gave their silhouettes an almost ethereal glow, accentuating their curves as if they were carved from pure desire.

One blonde in a shimmering silver dress twirled, the hem flying high enough to reveal she wasn’t wearing panties, the bare curve of her smooth pussy catching the strobe lights for a split second. Her tits, barely restrained by a plunging neckline, bounced enticingly, her nipples threatening to slip free with every exaggerated move. She ran her hands down her body, grabbing her chest and giving it a playful shake as she laughed, her confidence leaving jaws hanging.

Nearby, a brunette in a skin-tight red dress danced with a friend, the two of them grinding together, their bodies pressed close as if in a teasing embrace. Her dress clung to her like a second skin, leaving almost nothing to the imagination as the slit revealed her toned thighs. She leaned back, tossing her head, her lips parted in a sultry smile while her friend playfully lifted her own crop top, flashing the underside of her perky tits to a roar of approval from the crowd.

A petite redhead bent low, her sheer black top sliding up enough to expose the curve of her back and the edges of her bare ass peeking out from her tiny shorts. She arched provocatively, giving a deliberate view of her curves, while her loose top occasionally slipped down, flashing a hardened nipple through the translucent fabric. Her friends egged her on, grabbing at her waist, their laughter mixing with the pounding music.

Tight dresses clung to firm asses, skirts rode up with every twist, and flashes of bare, glistening skin teased from every corner of the room. One girl even slid a hand under her top, shaking her own tits as if to show off, her fingers briefly tweaking a nipple before pulling her shirt back down with a sly grin. The heat on the dance floor was electric, a haze of sweat, lust, and raw energy that made the air thick with temptation, every girl a moving invitation to sin.

The guys stood at the edges, frozen, their drinks forgotten as their eyes devoured the spectacle in front of them. The sight was a tease, a living, breathing porno playing out just a few feet away. Every seductive move from the girls, every tantalizing bounce of their tits or deliberate flick of their hair, sent a collective ripple of lust through the room. My cock hardened as I took it all in, my pulse quickening with every stolen glance.

One girl, though, had every eye on her, and for good reason. Her name was Mary. She was the girlfriend of a guy three doors down from me, and she was impossible to ignore. Her massive tits, straining against the thin fabric of her tank top, bounced freely with every movement, the lack of a bra making them utterly hypnotic. Her nipples, hard and prominent, poked provocatively through the material, demanding to be stared at. Her long legs, impossibly toned, shimmered in the dim light, leading up to a short skirt that flirted dangerously with indecency every time she spun. Her hips swayed in perfect rhythm, her tight, perky ass practically begging for a pair of hands to grab it.

She wasn’t just dancing; she was performing. Her eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the room seemed to fade. She leaned into her movements, her body rolling in ways that made it impossible to think straight. The heat in the room seemed to double as she stepped closer to the crowd, her confidence dripping from every step.

Mary knew the effect she had. She soaked in the attention like a queen holding court, her lips curling into a knowing smirk as every guy in the room struggled to hide their erections. I couldn’t stop staring, my pants growing tighter with every bounce of her tits and roll of her hips. My cock throbbed with the same wild energy that filled the air, her every move a promise of something wickedly unattainable. She was a walking fantasy, and every guy in the room, including me, was under her spell.

Mary was flaunting it tonight. Her massive tits, easily D-cups, bounced and swayed freely beneath her flimsy tank top. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples, hard, prominent, and utterly tantalizing, jutted against the thin fabric, daring anyone to look away. Her every move screamed confidence, her hips rolling sensuously as she danced, her long legs adding to the allure.

She caught me staring, and instead of backing down, she leaned into it. Her moves grew more deliberate, each sway of her body designed to tease. Her eyes locked onto mine as she pushed her chest forward, those mesmerizing tits jiggling with every step, putting even the most seasoned strippers to shame.

As I stood there, shamelessly drinking in the sight of her, her boyfriend stumbled onto the dance floor. He was so wasted he could barely stand, but that didn’t stop her. Mary turned, grinding her hips against him as he grabbed onto her for balance. Their mouths locked in a sloppy, drunken French kiss, her body pressed flush against his as his hands clumsily pawed at her.

After a long moment, she broke the kiss and whispered something in his ear. She led him off the dance floor, her hand gripping his wrist, her intentions clear. Mary’s smirk and the sway of her ass as they disappeared toward his room left no doubt about what she had planned, to get fucked hard before he inevitably passed out from all the alcohol.

Being a bit bored, I decided it was time to liven things up. I strolled to my room, the plan already forming in my mind. Pretending to fumble for my key, I smeared a dab of my magic cream on my finger and waited for the perfect moment.

As Mary walked by, her massive, unrestrained tits swaying under her thin tank top, I smiled and called out, “Hey, Mary! You’re looking incredible tonight. Oh, wait, what’s that?” Without waiting for her response, I reached out, my fingers brushing her smooth neck as I quickly rubbed the cream into her skin. “Sorry, thought it was a spider,” I added casually, flashing a grin as I turned back to my door.

They continued on their way, completely unaware of what had just happened. But I didn’t miss the subtle shift in Mary’s demeanor. Her breathing quickened, her skin flushed a deep pink, and she began to fidget with the hem of her top as though it was suddenly suffocating her.

By the time she reached her door, Mary yanked her tank top over her head, revealing the smooth, golden expanse of her back, every muscle shifting with an almost hypnotic grace. Her skin gleamed faintly under the hallway light, the delicate curve of her spine leading to the tantalizing dip at her narrow waist.

As she turned slightly to the side to step into her room, the soft glow caught her massive, D-cup breasts in profile, firm and impossibly perky. Her flushed, taut nipples were unmistakable, standing proudly against her flawless skin. The fleeting glimpse sent a surge through me. Mary was clearly flustered, her movements erratic and hurried, her body betraying her under the relentless, fiery effects of the cream.

I shook my head, ready to head back to the party, when I noticed the door wasn’t fully shut. Her discarded tank top had caught in the frame, leaving a narrow gap. Curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned in to take a look. Through the crack, I saw Mary completely naked, her flawless body on full display as she knelt over her boyfriend, Rich. She was tugging clumsily at his pants and shoes, clearly eager to get him undressed.

Bent over like that, her massive tits hung freely, swaying with her movements, the light catching her flushed, perfect skin. My cock hardened instantly. Unable to resist, I pulled out my phone, angling it carefully to record, while my free hand slid down to rub the bulge straining in my pants. She finally managed to strip him bare and climbed onto the bed, her knees on either side of his body.

I watched as she took his limp cock in her mouth, sucking with desperation, her lips stretched tightly around him. Her tits swayed tantalizingly in front of his face, but in his drunken stupor, he barely reacted. Undeterred, Mary moved into a ‘69’ position, her wet pussy hovering over his face. He lazily started licking her clit, and soon enough, her moans filled the room.

Her body spasmed uncontrollably as the first orgasm tore through her, a raw, primal cry spilling from her lips. Her entire frame seemed electrified, her flawless skin flushed a deep pink, glistening with sweat under the dim light. Her massive tits jiggled wildly, the taut, swollen nipples pointing skyward as her chest heaved with every ragged breath. Her stomach tensed and rippled, the toned curves of her abs flexing as she lost control.

Her face was a masterpiece of pleasure, her mouth open wide in a silent scream before she gasped for air. Her eyes fluttered shut, then snapped open, unfocused and glassy with ecstasy. Her brows knitted together as her body rode the peak, her parted lips trembling as soft, needy moans escaped. Her hair clung to her damp forehead, strands plastered against her flushed cheeks.

As she arched her back, her hands clawed at the sheets, her long fingers curling into fists as if trying to anchor herself amidst the overwhelming sensations. Her hips bucked wildly against Rich’s lazy tongue, her movements desperate, frantic, as though chasing a high only her own body could deliver.

I inched closer, captivated by the unrestrained beauty of her pleasure, my phone recording every perfect angle. The sight was intoxicating, better than any porn I’d ever watched, each detail of her trembling form etched vividly in my mind.

When she finally came down from the high, her breaths heavy and uneven, she reached over to the nightstand, her trembling fingers finding a condom. She tore the wrapper open and rolled it over his pathetic, barely hard prick, the thin rubber barely clinging to his shaft. It looked out of place against her radiant, flawless body, the pale, narrow shaft nowhere near the size needed to satisfy her.