“Oh fuck, oh *fuck* I’m gonna cum again,” Glen groaned, picking up the pace of his thin, swinging hips. There was no response from his partner, Mira, beyond the coarse gurgling of her throat, and the wet *spak-spak-spak* of Glen’s balls against her nose and eyes. She lay with her head hanging from the edge of his dorm room bed, and had half a dozen loads of varying size soaking into the caramel skin of her tits and stomach.
The two had been paired up by random selection for the Loads Per Hour assignment in Professor Steadman’s famous course – Social Sexuality. It fulfilled a Health Sciences requirement, as well as plenty of sexual fantasies, for lots of students at Mouthmore University. And it was thought to be primarily responsible for M.U.’s incredibly long wait list for admissions and transfers.
How the hell Steadman managed to get the curriculum approved for a “hands-on” program exploring the depravity of sex culture in the age of internet porn – nobody knows for sure. But the rumors included everything from secret bribes to political hostage-taking. Whatever the real story, his class had been a staple at the school for 6 years by the time Glen found his way onto the attendance list.
“Fffuuuuucckkk,” the pale sophomore grimaced, locking his knees as he slid his cock from Mira’s throat, and stroked it noisily above her panting face. The wet ribbons of his 7th cum load in 2 hours swung down over his partner’s sharp chin and nose, streaking along her face and into her dark, shiny hair. The goal of the assignment was to see, on average, how many productive orgasms a young male could have in the span of a few hours. And the experiment only ended when the male partner could no longer get hard, or couldn’t produce any more semen, or plain passed out from exhaustion.
Full credit for both partners meant full participation from each, and it was occurring to Mira that she may have received an inauspicious pairing. Glen was scrawny, and a year behind her, as a junior at the university – but he had a girthy, 7″ cock and a seemingly inexhaustible supply of semen. The Serbian beauty relaxed her grip on Glen’s thighs, and tried blowing some of the cum from her nostril, shaking her head before coughing.
“Whew… god… you okay?” The curly brunette boy squeezed his cock and looked down at the wet face dangling beneath him. She took a moment to answer.
“*Hh-rmm*… Yeah, just… My throat is a little sore…”
“Shit, sorry!” Glen circled one of the naked girl’s arms with his to help sit her up. He’d gotten carried away with the *delicious* warmth of her mouth, and also kind of assumed she didn’t want him in her other holes, anyway. “Do you wanna try a different um, position?”
Mira’s short, straight hair looked tousled and sweaty as she sat up on the bed, and there was a sheen of spit and cum around her puffy lips. She leaned forward over crossed legs, with her elbows on her knees so that her full tits nearly brushed her ankles.
“Do you… Are you up for more?” She eyed him wearily.
“Sure!” The sophomore chirped, not catching his partner’s implication. The stupid grin on his face, and the unfailing hardness of his cock told Mira that he probably wouldn’t be “spent” for a while yet.
“O-kay…” She sighed, turning and crawling onto her knees with her ass facing her enthusiastic partner. He drank in the sight of her perfect, hairless slit for a moment before climbing onto the bed and lining himself up behind the exhausted junior girl. His fat dick was glistening with throat slime, which made for easy entry into the tight, warm snatch it would call home for the next hour or so.
When Glen’s roommate got home from his job at the theater, he was greeted by the sight of Mira’s sweaty brown tits slapping together as she faced the door on the big, shaggy carpet. Her hair was bunched in Glen’s delicate fist, and two more loads were running down her inner thighs as she panted and groaned.
“Hey Cal – sorry, assignment’s running over,” Glen paused his wild rutting and swiped a forearm across his dripping brow. “You need to go to bed? We can take this to the lounge…”
“No no, all good,” Cal said, dropping his uniform jacket by the door without ever taking his eyes off the cum-strewn whore kneeling on the floor of his room. “You guys do what you gotta do.”
He eased over to his bed, and pretended to be checking his phone while Glen cinched Mira’s hair back again. The gawky teen resumed merrily slapping his hips against her cheeks, counting down to his 10th load of the night. He couldn’t be sure how the other guys in class were gonna perform overall, but he has a good feeling he’d be in the top percentiles.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/yrvn15/social_sexuality_the_college_course_for_perverts
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