The Campus Whore

After a three-month dry spell, I finally broke free from my ex, ready to dive headfirst into the world of unbridled pleasure. I had been watching amateur videos, fantasizing about the raw, primal experience of being a cum dump.

The sight of a jock pounding a blindfolded twink, their grunts and moans filling the room, had become my obsession. I watched the top slam into him, heard the begging, saw the load spill out afterward. I came again and again, imagining myself in that place.

I wanted to be that bottom. I wanted to take load after load from random strangers and feel what it was like to be used and filled.

I’d spent three years in monogamous relationships, but my sex drive always outpaced my partners. At first, we’d fuck constantly. Over time, every boyfriend lost interest, and I found myself craving more than one man could give.

One guy wasn’t enough anymore. I wanted multiple men. A room full of them. Hours of being passed around, fucked raw, and bred.

Fear had always stopped me. The risks. The unknowns. Then, during my senior year, I saw an ad for PrEP on a campus bus. Free at the campus health center. No insurance required.

I made the appointment immediately.

I also had the perfect place. A cheap studio apartment at the edge of campus. Close enough to everything. Private. Easy to host. It felt like permission.

Still, I wondered if I was attractive enough. I wasn’t ripped or twink-thin. Just average. But there was only one way to find out.

The day before I was cleared, I got nervous. I watched my favorite video again. I came. And afterward, the answer was clear.

I wanted this.

I didn’t want blindfolds or total anonymity. I wanted to see who walked through my door. Other students. Guys I might’ve passed on campus.

On the eighth day of PrEP, I cleaned myself thoroughly. Shaved smooth. Looked at my ass in the mirror and imagined loads spilling out later.

I changed my Grindr profile. Torso pic only. Headline signaling exactly what I wanted. Description clear: hosting college guys to breed me.

Then I went to class and tried not to think about it.

When I got home, the message was already there. Faceless. Twenty-one. Free now.

My heart pounded as I sent my address.

Ten minutes later, he arrived.

He wasn’t what I imagined. Lanky. Glasses. Average. But when he ate my ass and fucked me raw, none of that mattered.

I took my first load from a stranger.

When he left, my doubts vanished. My hunger didn’t.

I opened Grindr again.

Another guy came. Younger. Cut. Bigger. He fucked me, tasted the cum already inside me, and bred me too.

Then another message.

Then another.

A frat guy. Muscular. Confident. He made me sit on him, made me push out every load I’d taken, watched it spill over his cock, and then fucked me deeper than anyone else had that day.

I came hands-free riding him.

He bred me. Kissed me. Ate every load from my hole. Kissed me again.

He said he wanted to do it again.

Then another guy showed up. Bigger. Rougher. Dominant. He used me harder than anyone before him.

I came again without touching myself.

He filled me completely.

When he left, I lay there wrecked and full, understanding something I’d only watched before.

This wasn’t roulette. No matter who walked through the door, I got fucked. I got filled. I always won.

My hole was sore. My body exhausted. My mind clear.

This was what I needed. What no boyfriend had ever been able to give me for long.

I was always meant for this.

Even after everything, my dick was already hard again, imagining doing it all over.