You make your selections and hurry to the A/V room.
"Fucking FINALLY," Whitney says, her frustration plain. "What took you so long?"
She's already naked. She falls instantly to all fours, face down and ass up, wagging her hips at you. Her pussy is drooling.
How can you resist?
You fuck her savagely, taking out the day's pent-up excitement on her. She fucks you back just as hard, her ass slamming against your hips.
"And then she came all over herself," you tell Whitney, finishing up your account of the incident in the hallway. "I made her call me master."
Whitney looks at you over her shoulder, never breaking her animalistic pace. Her eyes glint mischievously. "You made her call you master? That's awesome... did she do it?"
"Of course she did it. She was out of her fucking mind. She practically begged me to fuck her right there in the hallway."
"Unff-- fuckkk," Whitney says. Her cunt milks your dick as she orgasms and she throws her head back, drowning in decadence. "We should go find her and fuck her... right now..."
"Not yet," you grunt. The feeling of Whitney's innermost parts on your raw dick is starting to get the best of you. You're close to popping off. "She didn't actually beg me. I'll fuck her again, but not until she begs."
"You're so evil, Ally~" Whitney says. "I love it! I love YOU!"
That does it. You groan and pump Whitney full of hot cum. She mewls with joy and her arms give out underneath her. Even though she bangs her chin on the tile floor hard enough that you hear her teeth clack, her cunt still clamps rythmatically around your spewing cock. Some of it overflows and dribbles lewdly down her thighs.
"Sup sup SUP, my nig-gaaas!" comes a familiar voice from the doorway. It's Stackleford. He enters with a pushcart stacked full of food.
[ ] Try to hide.
[X] No hiding. Assert dominance.
"Time for some calzone, niggers!" Stackleford says. The pushcart he has with him has been clearly hijacked from the cafeteria.
"They were going to throw this buffet of hot deliciousness out, can you believe--"
Stackleford stops mid-sentence when he finally sees the scene before him.
His eyes roam over Whitney's ass, your chest; Whitney's sex-matted hair, your straining neck; the place where you and Whitney are still mated wetly together.
Well, he's seen everything. No use covering it up or trying to pretend it didn't happen.
You dismount Whitney. Your commingled fluids drip from your still semi-turgid cock. Whitney rolls to a supine position, resting the back of her palm on her forehead and panting for breath with that delirious look of post-sex euphoria.
Stackleford snivels. He seems close to losing it completely and bawling as you approach the stolen food cart. You grab a calzone from it, smiling at him warmly, and take a bite. It's pepperoni -- your favorite.
"You're right," you say, looking him directly in the eye. "This is delicious."
You turn back to Whitney. "You want some calzone?"
Whitney pants and heaves for a few seconds. She licks her lips a couple times before she can draw the energy to answer. "Pepperoni?" she asks.
"Yep," you say. "It's the best, isn't it?"
Whitney pants and heaves some more. "All right then--" she says, then gulps for air again-- "You don't mind, right Stackleford?"
"No..." Stackleford says, his voice pinched. "No... that's fine... take as much as you like. I-- I think I have to go... over here... to..."
Stackleford doesn't finish this thought. He just turns and goes, leaving the cart behind. Half a minute later you hear the far-off sound of his vomiting at the end of the hall. You shrug and wolf down the rest of your calzone, then another. Sex makes you really hungry.