F22 Uni swimmer fucked in library toilets

It was Thursday, late afternoon, the library packed with stressed students cramming for finals. Connor’s this lanky guy, brown curly hair, glasses, kinda nerdy but cute, always staring at me in class. I’d noticed him whispering with his buddies, their eyes on my tits in my tight tank tops, my nipples hard from the cold lecture hall. Word got around about my “reputation” after the swim team party—guess I’m campus-famous now. Tuesday, he slid into my DMs, all nervous, asking to “study together.” I knew what he wanted, and Jaden was like, “Fuck him where everyone can hear, slut.” My cunt was already wet.

I met Connor at the library at 5 p.m., the place humming, smelling of coffee and old books. I wore a grey crop top, no bra, my tits spilling out, nipples poking through, and a red mini skirt, my black thong barely covering my pussy lips. My hair was loose, still damp from practice, my skin glowing with sweat, my heart racing. We grabbed a table on the third floor, near the stacks, but the tension was thick. His eyes were glued to my cleavage, my bare thighs, my skirt riding up as I crossed my legs, flashing my thong. “So, uh, psych notes?” he mumbled, his face red, his jeans bulging. I leaned forward, my tits practically on the table, my voice flirty. “Sure, Connor, but I bet you want more than notes,” I purred, licking my lips, my pussy pulsing.

He stammered, then grinned, his nerdy vibe cracking. “Heard you’re… wild, Kat. Wanna hang out somewhere private?” My cunt throbbed, my thong soaked. “Follow me,” I whispered, standing, my hips swaying, my ass barely covered as I led him to the back of the floor, past dusty bookshelves, to the single-stall accessible toilet. The air was stale, smelling of bleach, the fluorescent light harsh. I locked the door, the click loud, the library’s muffled noise fading. He stared, his cock straining in his jeans, his breath ragged. “You’re really… a slut, huh?” he said, his voice shaky but hungry. I smirked, peeling off my crop top, my tits bouncing free, nipples raw from my swimsuit. “Find out,” I teased, dropping my skirt, my thong drenched, sticking to my pussy lips.

He lunged, kissing my neck, his hands groping my tits, pinching my nipples, making me moan. I yanked his jeans down, his cock springing free, decent, maybe 7 inches, hard as fuck. “Condom,” I said, my voice firm, my pussy dripping but Jaden’s rule clear. He fumbled in his wallet, pulling out a Trojan, rolling it on, the latex shiny. I dropped to my knees, the tile cold, my hands stroking his sheathed cock, my lips wrapping around the tip, sucking through the condom, my tongue swirling. Saliva spilled, dripping down my chin, pooling on my tits. He groaned, grabbing my hair, fucking my face, the condom’s taste sharp, my throat burning, mascara smearing with sweat and spit. “Fuck, Kat, you’re filthy,” he grunted, his cock twitching, my spit soaking his balls.

I stood, ripping my thong down, my pussy glistening, juices dripping down my thighs. I leaned over the sink, my ass up, my reflection in the smudged mirror showing my sweaty, slutty face. “Fuck me, Connor,” I begged, my voice loud, echoing in the small room. He spread my pussy lips, his fingers plunging in, two at once, twisting, stretching me. I moaned, my juices soaking his hand, my tits bouncing, sweat pouring down my back. He pulled out, smearing my juices on my ass, then slapped it, the sting making me gasp. He lined up his cock, the condom slick, and slammed into my pussy, stretching my tight walls, my body rocking, my nails clawing the sink.

He fucked me hard, his hips slamming, his balls slapping my clit, the sink creaking, my tits jiggling in the mirror. I screamed, my juices coating the condom, my sweat-soaked body trembling. “Fucking take it, slut,” he growled, his hands gripping my slippery hips, his sweat dripping onto my back. I came fast, my pussy clenching, my body convulsing, squirting onto his jeans, my moans bouncing off the tiles. He kept pounding, the condom crinkling, my cunt gripping him, the library’s hum faint through the door. He flipped me around, lifting me onto the sink, my legs spread, my pussy dripping. He slammed back in, raw through the condom, his thrusts brutal, my tits bouncing, my ass sliding on the wet porcelain.

I came again, my body shaking, squirting onto his shirt, my screams muffled by his hand over my mouth. “You’re my slut now,” he panted, his cock swelling, the condom tight. He pulled out, yanking the condom off, stroking himself, and sprayed cum across my tits, the warm ropes pooling in my cleavage, sticking to my sweaty skin. I scooped some up, licking my fingers, my eyes locked on his, my pussy pulsing. But I wasn’t done. I grabbed a toilet paper roll from the dispenser, sliding the cardboard tube into my pussy, the rough texture stretching my cum-slick walls, my moans obscene as I fucked myself, deep, hard strokes. He watched, his cock twitching, his face shocked. “You’re fucking insane,” he said, stroking himself, hard again.

I pulled the tube out, my juices dripping, and shoved it into my ass, the stretch wild, my body trembling, oil and cum leaking. He jerked off, cumming again, his load splattering my face, dripping down my chin, mixing with sweat and spit. We collapsed, the toilet reeking of sex, the sink a sticky mess, my body cum-drenched, my thong shredded. I left with my crop top barely on, my skirt crumpled, cum crusted on my skin, my holes sore. Jaden met me outside, smirking when I told him every detail, his cock hard in his jeans. He called me his perfect whore, and we’re planning more—maybe I’ll fuck Connor in the lecture hall next, or let his buddies watch.