The side entrance to Old South Academy was crowded with students waiting for their rides home in the Benzes and Beemers and Audis and Lexi lined up idling in the driveway. The usual games of the rich students were going on: whose mother had upgraded to a larger new car, whose father's had a new arm-candy girlfriend who was doing the pickup that day, which limosine had a new driver. And which girl would climb into the back seat of the white stretch limo to ride with the notoriously horny Keller twins. Actually, they would be the ones doing the riding on the girl during that twenty minute drive, but I'm just splitting grammatical hairs.

That day it would be my turn, my fourth actually, to slide in between them in the back seat, hidden behind those darkened windows, for the ride to their home from O.S.A. Most of the students referred to it as Our Shit, as in Our Shit Doesn't Stink Academy. Basically, the only ones who didn't use that nickname were the few scholarship students and those who were children of the teachers and staff. To them, the rest of us were Their Shit Really Does Stink, but fuck 'em.

Many eyes were on me as I stood between the two of them. Some of them were thinking about the way they had used me, as the Kellers were soon to use me. Most of the boys who knew my body intimately concentrated on my wet mouth, the tool with which I satisfied their boyish fantasies. A few remembered my pussy, the tight sheath that had gripped their cocks and had brought them to blessed release and relief. Three or four, I wasn't sure who had been absent that day, had been given the treat of my asshole. Each and every one of them at that moment was envying the Keller twins and what I would gladly let them do to me.

Tommy opened the rear door and slid in first. If he had his druthers, we would have waited for Michael, the chauffeur, to come around and open it for us, but his parents had forbade it, claiming that it looked too pretentious. It did, of course, which was why the twins would have wanted it in the first place. I crawled in after Tommy, and then his baby brother Timmy completed the slut sandwich, putting his hand on my ass and shoving me into the back seat.

What kind of weird parents name their twins with alliterative names? It kind of keeps them as children forever. Of course, the chauffeur addressed them as Master Thomas and Master Timothy, and when they grew up and went into their Daddy's business, working in the mail room for a week before becoming Vice Presidents, they would probably be just Tom and Tim.

Me, I'm Amanda, but most everybody calls me Mandy. You know, 'Hey Mandy, want some candy, suck this.' Well shit, I can't help it if I'm addicted to cock, can I? I have been for the past year — I'm fifteen still — but so are all the other girls in school. It's just that I've got a name that they can use to make jokes about. Well, fuck 'em.

The Keller twins are fraternal, not maternal, so it's easy to tell them apart. But there's another way to do that also. Remember those twins who used to play pro football. As great athletes, they could play any position, but they wound up with two different teams, one as an offensive player and the other as a defensive player. Well, with the Keller twins, in the back seat of their limo — or in one of their bedrooms — they each had their favorite positions also, at least to start out the festivities.

Even the first time that I had crawled into the back seat with them, I knew that it wasn't just for a ride. Girls who had preceded me into the limo had made it clear that sex was the price that I would be paying for the trip home. No problem; fifteen back then, my cherry had been history for a while, and I was already game for new adventures. Plus, I had an ulterior motive.

Once the limo started moving, each of the brothers had an arm around me, their free hands under my blouse. One of them squeezed a full cup while the other fumbled with my front closing bra. My head swiveled as each kissed me in turn. When it was straight ahead again, I saw two eyes looking at me, leering at me through the rear view mirror.

"Hey, guys, the driver can see us," I whispered.

"No problem," said Tommy, as Michael nodded in the mirror. "He's seen it all before. In fact, we expect you to take care of him too before you get home."

The idea shocked me at first, and then it began to excite me. After all, I was in that car for the cock, and one extra cock could be a pleasant thing, as long as he'd settle for my mouth. Michael must have been the family retainer for years. He looked almost but not quite old enough to be the twins' grandfather, but the gleam in his eyes told me that he still had plenty of lead in his pencil.

My bra was off, my prim white blouse — part of the mandatory school uniform — was up around my neck. I knew that I'd get home with wrinkles in the blouse, but Mom was a woman of the world and would want a blow by blow — no pun intended — description of the afternoon. Clumsy fingers opened the side button of my gold and brown skirt — the official school colors — and ran down the zipper. Timmy tapped me on the ass and I lifted it so that he could get the skirt down off of me. Under it I had worn a pink thong, absolutely and definitely not part of the official uniform but perfectly suitable for whatever after school — and/or locker room - activities that happened to come my way.

"Holy shit, Michael," said Tommy. "Would you take a look at what we have here for this afternoon?"

The chauffeur adjusted the mirror but he couldn't see much because of the back of his seat. He pulled the limo to the side of the road and twisted in his seat to see my treasures.

"Very nice, Master Thomas," he said after studying my bare nipples and the tiny patch of my thong. "Very nice indeed. May I ask the young lady if I might be favored with her charms this afternoon before I take her home?"

"Oh yes indeed, Michael," I said with a laugh. "It'll be nice to feel a man-sized cock after I'm done with these little boys."

We all laughed together and then the limo began to move again. My two back seat companions each fastened lips to nips and began to suck, their heads bumping together with each turn in the road. Then they simultaneously stopped, as though they had clocks inside their heads. Tommy unzipped his pants and took my hand, silently inviting it inside to fish out his cock. I had done it often enough to know how to guide his hard weapon through the opening in his shorts and out into the air. Six inches it was, filled with blood to make it hard, sporting a purplish crown. I bent down to kiss it, licking across the piss slit to remove that tiny drop of fluid forming there.

At the same time, Timmy opened his belt and zipper, pulling his slacks down and off. The tented under shorts quickly joined the slacks on the floor, exposing his entire lower body. His member was slightly longer than that of his brother, but somewhat slimmer. It would help me to tell them apart in the dark. He put his hands around my waist and lifted me bodily, so that my mouth was on Tommy's cock and my ass was facing Timmy.

"Have you ever had it in the ass, Mandy?" Timmy asked.

"Of course I have, Timmy. Have you ever had anyone's ass before?" I threw back at him.

"Don't worry, you're not my first," he bragged.

"Remember, Gentlemen," came Michael's voice from the front seat. "Don't make a mess back there. Your mother will be needing to be driven later and while she's very proud of her two cocksman sons, she won't want her clothing stained with anyone's bodily fluids."

And so I learned, not that it made any difference to me, that Tommy liked to start off being blown while Timmy preferred his first cum of the session to be in the girl's rectum. Maybe at some later date I could convince them both to start out with straight fucks. Or maybe I could do it right then.

Timmy, instead of pulling the back string of my thong to the side, grabbed it at the waist and pulled the whole thing down to my knees. He followed that up with a single finger pushing its way into my bowels. Dry! Fantastic! Just what I wanted!

"Hey Timmy, do you have any KY here in the car?" I asked innocently.

"No," he said, "just in the house."

"Then why don't you just use my cunt now and we can do the anal when I'm properly greased up? It'll be more fun for both of us that way."

He took the hint and began to finger-fuck my pussy, which was already soaking wet for him. For anybody, actually. I gave him a happy hum and bent again to take Tommy into my mouth. The Keller twins were not deep into foreplay. Tommy put his hand on the back of my head and pushed my face down to his crotch, trying his best to get his cock actually down my throat. His hands squeezed my tits, somewhat roughly, while his fingers pinched my nipples painfully. But I was concentrating more on his brother Timmy, who had slammed his cock deep in my cunt and was pounding away. It was clear that the farthest thing from his mind was whether or not I would cum. To him, my purpose there was to provide convenient openings for him to cum into. To him, my sole reward would be the ability to brag to my friends that I had ridden home in the Keller's limo and that they had deigned to use my mouth, cunt and ass as places to dump their creamy sperm.

Well, fuck you, Keller boys, I thought, I have other plans. Ignoring Tommy's efforts to get his meat down to my stomach, I kept pushing my hips back toward Timmy in rhythm with his thrusts. His cock was slick with my juices and slid back and forth easily. My cunt was experienced enough to accept it without difficulty. I gave Timmy a minute or two of fucking and then I reached back between my legs and grabbed his balls, squeezing hard. He exploded instantly, his cum splashing inside me as he let out a yell of success.

I let go of Tommy's cock and turned my head in time to see Michael's face looking back at us, a lewd grin on his face as he imagined his own orgasm inside me later in the day. Don't worry, Michael, I thought, you'll get yours later. But not quite the same way.

I pulled my ass forward, causing Timmy to pop out of me with a squishing sound. Then I spoke to his brother.

"Come on, Tommy. Your turn to fuck me. Let's see if you can get yourself off before we get to your house."

I rolled over on the seat onto my back and stretched my legs up to the roof of the car. With the darkened windows, only the driver could see them through his mirror. The two brothers climbed over me, changing places. I licked out at Timmy's slimy tool as it passed my face. Tommy knelt between my legs, his slacks still on, only his cock exposed. With his brother's cum still marinating my cunt walls, I realized that Tommy's slacks would wind up with lots of pecker tracks, but it wasn't my problem. They had enough money to buy slacks, get cum stains on them the first day and just throw them away.

I grabbed Tommy's cock and led it to my slit. He mounted me like a missionary, obviously having no problem with the idea of sloppy seconds between my wide open legs. I felt again that wonderful stretching of cunt by cock. Tommy's eyes were focused a thousand miles away as he thrust in and out of my soaking love canal. He bent to kiss me and his eyes came together, looking down at me like the fuck toy that he thought I was.

Enough adult cocks had spent themselves inside me that I knew what it was for a man to take his time. Not so the Keller twins, boys who didn't care whose body they fouled, nor how quickly it would happen. Tommy emptied himself inside me even more quickly than his brother. Both boys were fully dressed by the time the limo pulled under the portico of their home. I was still lying on my back, letting their cum ooze inside me. Michael left the car and the boys waited for me to pull up my thong and pull down my blouse. I wound up looking semi-decent but clearly newly fucked. We walked in through the front door as Michael returned to the car to be sure that there was no cum on the back seat.

"Mom, Dad, we're home."

Mrs. Keller walked down the circular staircase like an heiress, dressed to the nines for what would obviously be some serious fashion shopping. She kissed each son full on the mouth and then looked at me. She studied my disheveled clothing and hair and then looked over at Tommy, her eyes locking on the wet spot around his zipper. She sighed and shook her head.

"Mom, this is Mandy. She's going to do some studying with us." She nodded, but with her eyes rolling, as in, if you want to bullshit me, fine, but don't expect me to believe that crap.

"Pleased to meet you, Mandy. You're a lovely young woman." Then she put an arm around me and her voice dropped to a whisper. "You do use birth control, don't you?"

"Oh yes ma'am," I whispered back. "My Mom took me to the doctor for it the day after she found me with my Dad."

She blinked involuntarily. "Was he your first?"

"Yes ma'am."

She got a dreamy look in her eyes. "Me too," she reminisced.

I bit my lip to keep from bursting out laughing. How could this woman, so obviously adept in decoding her children's bullshit, believe my collection of lies? Was it because I was a female, one of the clan? My parents would have fucking killed me if they had heard the nonsense that I was spouting about them to Mrs. Keller. Especially my father who, though he had never touched me, was living five hundred miles north of us with some barely legal nymphet, not much older than I. Nevertheless, she leaned forward and squeezed my shoulder like an old pal.

"Will you have some time to spend with my husband? He's always attracted to the girls that the twins bring home, especially such lovely ones as you."

"Of course I will," I said. To myself I added, you stupid cunt, I'd rather fuck him than either of his sons.

And there you have it, but earlier than I expected to tell it, my confession. While my father was pretty well off and the alimony and child support quite substantial, the Kellers were gazillionaires. And if I could get one of those three Kellers to knock me up, CHA-CHING! It would be like winning the lottery. There would be no talk about marriage. To them I was just one of the school sluts. But DNA tests work. Abortion? I didn't give a shit, but they'd absolutely want to be sure that it was their baby before paying anything. Adoption? Whatever they wanted, I would sign. Just so long as the check was big enough.

"I'll be back in time for Michael to drive you home."

The pleasantries finished, Tommy and Timmy were anxious to get back to the primary goal, cumming into Mandy. We went up to Timmy's room, for no special reason other than that it was closer to the top of the staircase. We all got naked and then Tommy stood in front of me. Then...

"On your knees, Mandy."

It was a nice feeling when I realized that he had used my name instead of just calling me 'cunt', as did many of the boys who I went down on. (On whom I went down, for you English teachers.) Mostly nice enough guys otherwise, I guess that calling a girl 'cunt' gave them some feeling of domination. I lot of the others said 'bitch, ' which was just as bad, or even 'cock sucker, ' but none of that mattered so long as I got to cum before the session was finished.

With the Keller pigs, it was a different story. All I wanted from them was a good little swimmer to nail one of my eggs. I didn't expect it to happen in one afternoon. I needed just to give them whatever perversions they enjoyed so that I would be invited back a couple of days a month, or at least once a month until it clicked. Orgasms weren't my goal; if I got one, fine, but if I thought the boys needed it, I could fake it with the best of them.

The carpeting was plush, soft on my knees. I'd gone to my knees to suck cock in much less comfortable circumstances, like a concrete garage floor or the tiled floor of the boy's locker room — popularity doesn't come easily to any girl in a slut-filled school like O.S. Academy. I slid my knees apart and rested my pussy on the expensive wool, like a hockey goalie doing a split.

I had learned from the back seat of the limo that Tommy had no interest in a prolonged blow job. All he wanted to do was to shove it in as far as he could, down my throat if possible, and get off in a hurry. I'd never deep-throated anyone but I took him in as far as I could and wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock, the part that I couldn't get into my mouth. I sucked and jerked him off at the same time. He responded by shoving and grunting, and pretty soon I had a mouthful of his sweet cream.

As I said, or at least hinted, damn near every girl at O.S.A. sucks cock regularly. Alas, too many of them were truly of the Princess variety, as in Our Shit Doesn't Stink, so they refuse to swallow but spit it out instead. Into a tissue if they have one handy, or onto the floor of the back seat in whatever car they happen to be kneeling, or even right onto the guy's bed sheets for his mother to find and wash out. Other girls, me too once in a while, will keep the cum in their mouths, move up and snowball it back into the guy's mouth. Most guys enjoy that, even if they won't admit it.

But little old Amanda, your humble correspondent, just loves to swallow. I go crazy for it, the warmth, the smooth consistency, the different tastes from different cocks, I just love them all. If I haven't had a mouthful all day, I have trouble falling asleep at night. Fortunately, my kid brother is now old enough to give me a good load when I need it. The trouble is that he's starting to insist on being blown every night; boy, will he be in heaven once I can start to give him warm milk from my tits.

I knew that there was no way that Tommy Keller would stand still for me to give him back his own fuck sauce and so it was my pleasure to let it ooze down my gullet. It felt almost as good as an orgasm, but not quite.

Meanwhile, Timmy left the room with an "I'm going to Mom's night table for the KY. I'll be right back."

When he padded back in, I said, "I'll bring my own next time." He didn't answer me. Instead...

"On the bed, cunt. Spread those cheeks."

In that instant, I decided that if either one of those twins ever actually knocked me up, I hoped that it would be Tommy. Not that I wouldn't take it from Timmy, but for the baby's sake, I wanted Tommy to be the father. But of course I'd also settle for Mr. Keller senior. What the fuck, his wife damn near insisted that I take care of him. With any luck...

As I knelt with my asshole presented to Timmy, his brother sat on the bed at my head. With his balls empty, Tommy had nothing to do except to play with my nipples. They were hard, erect, rubbery pencil erasers, waiting for his fingers, hoping for his lips. Timmy meanwhile began to demonstrate that mine would not be his first asshole.

He bent to lick the star-burst target, a very surprising move in view of his previous lack of concern for the girl whom he had chosen to relieve the pressure in his cock. Then he began to probe inside me with his ubiquitous middle finger, twisting it and pressing to stretch my protective sphincter muscle. I moaned with make-believe pleasure and he added a second finger. Though my sensitive rear entrance had not been virginal for quite some time, still I couldn't tell if that second finger was his ring finger or his pointer.

Once I was comfortable with his two fingered ministrations, he pulled them out of me, only to reinsert them promptly, this time coated with KY. He greased my insides liberally and then repeated the process a second time. After that, a fresh supply of KY greased the down slope of my cheeks and the outside of my rear entrance. Finally I looked over my shoulder, watching him as he lubricated his cock fully. His hand reached under me, between my legs, enabling him to wipe off his fingers on my cunt hair. Prick!

He pressed up against my ass. Unbidden, I reached back and took his shaft, directing his crown right to the center of my waiting pucker. I continued to hold it as he began to press into me. Again to my surprise, he moved quite slowly, a fraction of an inch at a time. Still, it hurt; it always hurts when they press in, no matter how well I'm lubricated or how slowly they move through my barrier muscle. The only difference is how much the guy cares not to hurt the girl too much, and Timmy was remarkably, and surprisingly, careful.

When his crown cleared my sphincter, he stopped, allowing me to come down from the discomfort — OK, pain — of his entry of his entry into the forbidden darkness. Which is of course a silly expression, since I had been welcoming boy sized cocks up my ass for many months. But that's a different story. Once I whispered to Timmy that he could continue, he began the long, slow process of buggery, pausing every few minutes to add more KY to his shaft. It occurred to me that he was taking so much time because I'd had him empty his balls into my pussy while we were in the car.

As he stroked, Tommy slid underneath my chest. His lips fastened to a nipple while his hand reached down to diddle my clit. He found my own fingers already there; I had been trying to get myself off while Timmy fucked my ass. It was a weird sensation that I had learned months earlier, that of having my own hand inside my cunt while being ass-fucked, feeling the cock through the thin membrane separating us. Quite erotic, actually, if you've never tried it.

Tommy's fingers finally brought me over the top, concerning which my scream left no doubt. It also inspired Timmy to let go, and I felt the throbbing, the spurting as his warm sperm filled my bowels. He pulled out of me, my ears hearing a gentle pop as his crown cleared on the reverse trip. Then — will wonders never cease — he bent down and his tongue began to clean up the cum, his own cum, as it slowly oozed out of my asshole. Such a huge difference between his first hurried orgasm and this second tender one.

"Let's go, Mandy. Dad's waiting."

Ordinarily, I would have been reluctant to be handed off from cock to cock, like some slut cheerleader pulling the train for the tennis team. But in my quest for one lousy fucking sperm cell with enough energy to swim long enough and far enough to find and nail my egg, I was happy to make the trip down the hallway. The twins held my hands, like parents leading a bride to the altar, and I walked barefoot toward the other end of the house. Barefoot and bare-assed as well, for my clothes were still on Timmy's floor. They didn't seem to care, nor did I.

One of them knocked on the door to their father's den. His voice responded with a regal "Come", like in some old time movie. I smiled inwardly, for with a slight change in the spelling, his cum was what I was there for.

"Hello, Mr. Keller," I said with a quasi-curtsy.

"Call me Ted," he said. Oh, I thought, that's why the twins' names start with T. How disgustingly cutesy.

He sat at his desk, smiling at his sons and at me. Though relaxing in his own home, he was formal enough to still be wearing a suit jacket and a tie. I had the weirdest feeling, that he was undressing me with his eyes even as I stood there buck naked. He was a handsome man, a fine match for his lovely wife. My nipples grew under his gaze; my pussy began to drool when his eyes dropped down there. He looked up at the boys.

"You young men have excellent taste in young ladies. But I think that..."

Not knowing my name, he looked at me for assistance.

"Amanda," I offered. He nodded and looked back to the boys.

"I think that Amanda would prefer some privacy for a while. Why don't you boys find something to keep yourselves busy?"

When they had gone, he turned back to me. "Would you like to use the couch here or would you prefer a bed?"

"I think a bed," I answered.

He led me out a side door of the den into a monstrous bedroom. The bed clothing was a mess, as though he and Mrs. Keller had done a nooner and not bothered to straighten up. I didn't care; if the bed smelled of sex, he was more likely to give me a plain fuck without a lot of hassle. He threw his jacket onto a chair and stood close to me, obviously inviting me to help with the rest of his clothing.

I pressed up against him, letting him feel my nipples through his shirt. My face turned up to his as I fumbled with his tie. He put his hands on my naked back and pulled me to him. Our lips met and then parted as his tongue invaded my mouth. It was an interesting feeling; I was there as a whore, hoping to be knocked up so that I could shake him down, yet he was kissing me like a lover. Ah, men; whoever said that their brains are in their dicks had it absolutely right.

Once Ted's tie was off, thrown onto his jacket on the chair, I began to work on his shirt. I pulled it out of his pants and opened the buttons one at a time. He did the cuff buttons by himself. The shirt joined the jacket and tie. He wore no undershirt. I leaned in and began to suck on his nipples. Some guys are too ticklish for that, but Ted pulled my head tightly against him, as though he was a woman nursing a child — or a lover.

Before starting on his belt, my hand rubbed the hard protrusion in his pants. I didn't have to ask; he was glad to see me. His eyes were closed, in ecstasy. He stepped out of his shoes, Italian loafers, as I pulled his belt out of the loops. Most guys hate that, knowing that they'll have to go through the trouble of putting it back when they're putting the pants back on, but fuck 'em. If they want to fuck me, let me have some fun. When I opened the buttons on his pants, his hands played with my tits, weighing them, pinching my nipples.

His pants hit the floor. Ted was wearing boxer shorts and his cock popped right out through the fly hole. He was bigger than either of his boys but I'd seen — and sucked and fucked — even larger cocks. I maneuvered him toward the bed and pushed him onto his back. He swung his legs onto the bed and lay there with outstretched arms, cock exposed. I've always had, for no discernable reason, an aversion to fucking a guy with his socks on. Reaching down to pull them off, I expected a fight but got none.

In retrospect, that made sense. After all, he was at home, and would not be in any rush to leave some ratty motel room once I got him off. Secondly, his wife knew that he would be fucking this teenager and so he had plenty of time. It wouldn't matter if she walked in on him en flagrente - in the saddle, if you will — which in fact is what later did happen.

There was still the problem of that cock sticking out of his boxers. That is, should I lick off that little drop of pre-cum or just ignore it. I really wanted it, always tasted it when it was available, but I didn't want Ted Keller to get the wrong idea. He might think that I wanted to blow him and just pull my head tight onto his cock. Now, you know and I know that my mouth was not where I wanted him to deliver his cum.

So I left that little drop where it was and climbed onto the bed, right on top of him. Leaving his boxers untouched, I straddled him. His eyes lit up as I sank my wet pussy down, wrapping it around his turgid meat. It slid right into me, my vaginal walls dilating as he entered me to as much of his full length as would fit. My face bent to his and our lips met. This time it was my tongue that did the forcing in to his mouth, not that he minded. It was a strange act of foreplay, given that his cock was already balls deep in my tunnel of love.

My hips raised and lowered around his warm hardness as I rode him. The ride was not urgent, not like a jockey in a horse race, but more like the cool-down walk of a horse after it had crossed the finish line. But Ted and I hadn't crossed that finish line yet, so maybe it was more like a warm up pace when you first get onto a treadmill. Whatever. My aim was to get him to roll over on top of me. When he got to his finish line, I wanted every drop of his sperm to be traveling downhill, not uphill. I needed it to stay inside me, not to ooze out onto his boxer shorts.

And all it took was the slightest of leanings to one side and he took the hint. His hands held my ass firmly as we rolled, so that he wouldn't pop out of me. For some unknown reason, guys don't like to pop out in the middle of getting laid, even if they know that they'll be able to stick it right back in.

But once he was on top, Ted Keller became one of the most tender lovers I've ever allowed inside my body. His mouth was forever busy, on my lips, my ears, my neck, on each nipple in turn, again and again. His one free hand, the one he did not need to suspend himself over me, roamed my body in so many pleasurable ways. He stroked my cheeks, he caressed my breasts, he flicked my nipples. His hand gripped my ass tightly, pulling me upward to meet his thrusting hips and plunging cock. He ran his fingers along the inside of my rear crack, rubbing my sensitive pucker but never pressing a finger into my darkness. Most importantly, he stroked my clit, massaging it as though he were masturbating a cock, bringing me closer and closer to that wonderful screaming orgasm that makes sex so delightful.