A couple hours later, all three of you are tipsy on some Natty Lights that Whitney smuggled into your dorm. Way, way, way against the rules - but it can't be helped.
"You boss - is a total CUNT," Whitney slurs, pointing at Alex, her can sloshing beer all over the place.
"She'sh not too bad..." Alex says. "A little mean... that'sh all..."
"Cunt," you agree with Whitney. "Definitely. You deserve better."
Alex can't come up with a response, so he just takes another sip. Every sip he takes, he grimaces - you can't fault him, this stuff tastes like piss - but he does it anyway, seemingly to fit in.
A lull descends, and with the liquor in you, you pluck up the courage to ask: "Are you being scouted?"
"How... how did you hear about that?"
"A little birdie told me," you say.
Whitney crawls over to the bed, digs through her bag and pulls out a business card. She hands it to you.
"Pyotor Petrovovich, USWNT talent manager," you read aloud. "Some name."
"I just call him P," Whitney says.
"When were you going to tell me?"
"When I figured out how to explain that I said no..."
"--No? You're gonna say no to pro soccer? Why?"
Whitney demurs. It's Alex, hiccuping, who pipes up. "She doeshn't wanna leave - hic - leave you."
Whitney stares at the ground. "Your friend is a big-mouthed jerk," she tells you. "Even if he's cute." She shotguns the rest of her drink.
"Don't call other guys cute," you say.
"Pwah," Whitney chuffs. "You think he's cute too."
Alex can't bear to look at either of you.
"So what?" You say. "It's not my fault. He wants me to think he's cute."
Whitney puts a hand to her mouth in faux shock. "Alabaster," she says, uncharacteristically using your full name, "do you have designs on this poor, defenseless boy?"
"My heart is as pure as a boy scout," you insist.
"Liar," Whitney says. She points a twirling index finger at you now. "Li-aaa-rr~ You want to fuck him. Pervert."
"Contain yourself," you say.
"All this time, you said I was gay. Haha!"
"I told you to contain yourself."
Whitney circles Alex on all fours, wobbling from the effect of the booze. She gets behind him and takes his face in both hands and points it at you. Her chin on his shoulder, she smiles. "Do you like Ally?" she asks him.
He nods.
"Would you do anything for Ally? He saved your job, right?"
Alex balls up his fists in his lap and tries to look away, but Whitney won't let him.
"Y-yes," he says, nodding again.
Whitney's voice goes lower. "Have you ever sucked cock before?" she says.
Alex closes his eyes tightly.
"Have you?" Whitney repeats.
"No..."
"Let's teach you how."
You have no time to agree or disagree before Whitney has her face in your lap. She paws at the zipper of your pants and frees your cock. It's already hard.
"See?" she says. "This part of you is honest, at least..."
She sits up, just quickly enough to grab Alex roughly around the collar and force him down with her. He's face to face with your cock now. It pulses in the air, bobbing in time to your heartbeat.
His eyes cross and he focuses on it intently. You can feel his quick little breaths against it.
"Watch," Whitney tells him.
She puts her nose against the sensitive underside and inhales deeply, filling her lungs with your scent. "I love your cock, Ally... it was no fair keeping this from me for so long... no fair..."
You take it in your hand and rub it against her cheeks and face. She turns her head side to side to help you along - she likes this game most of all. Your cockhead leaves little trails of precum wherever you rub it. Eyes closed and smiling, she's in absolute bliss. So are you. You hardly notice as she gently guides your hand - and your dick - to Alex's face instead.
Just like that. You're rubbing your dick leak all over the face of this cute boy you met just hours ago. And you couldn't be happier. Judging by the way he closes his eyes too and just lets it happen, neither could he.
Whitney wants her turn though, and she takes over again. Her lips purse into an O shape and she tries to catch the tip of your dick as you move it back and forth.
You play a bit of keep-away now, moving it out of her reach whenever she gets close, slapping her with it. The nearest she can get is wrapping her wet lips around the side of the shaft every few moments and kissing it, which sends shivers of delirious pleasure up your spine. Her eyes are half-lidded but keenly focused on the prize in front of her. Every time it slaps her, it produces a satisfying noise and a cute red welt on her where it lands. Her tongue lolls out of her mouth, maybe unintentionally. Drool pools on its tip and starts to run viscously down her chin.
Alex is watching, supporting himself on his fists, entranced. He looks a little jealous.
Here's your cue to move on to the next thing. You scoop Whitney's spit up with the head of your dick and slowly feed her the slickened shaft. She keeps her mouth open wide and her tongue out to best service you. When she started just a few days ago, she was great at taking your entire length but bad about scraping you with the teeth. After some gentle - and not-so-gentle - instruction, she knows now to keep her jaw set wide when you use it as a fuckhole. She lies on her belly, propped on her arms like a lazing cat, and lets you go all the way to the balls in her upturned mouth. You can see the bulge at the back of her throat.
She gags and sputters, sending spittle flying, but gamely stays in place as you seat yourself. You grab her by her ears and hold her there when you're all the way in.
"Whitney..." Alex slurs. "Are you..."
You can't help groaning as Whitney's gagging worsens, becomes louder, and a thick stream of her drool slides down you rampant member. It's coming out of her nose now, too, and tears are streaming from her eyes - her face is an absolute fucking mess.
You pull out, nearly all the way, and she gasps for much needed breath. But her eyes never leave your cock, connected now to her lips only by strands of her spit. The tears are still flowing freely but the only emotion in those eyes is utter devotion.
"Now you," she says to Alex, her voice deep and hoarse from the abuse, and on fire with lust. As she speaks, more drool flows from the depths of the throat that she trained for your personal use.
"I'm not so sure..." he says.
Whitney clasps one of Alex's hands and guides it to your dripping dick. With coaxing, his fingers wrap around you, and she guides him until he can jerk you off without any help. You throw your head back and groan.
Whitney cups her hand around Alex's crotch. "Suck him," she whispers. "Suck his cock."
Alex leans forward and kisses the tip of your penis. That alone is nearly enough to make you cum, but you hold yourself off.
"It's salty..." he says.
"Put it in your fucking mouth already," Whitney says, forcefully. She isn't playing around anymore. And Alex must have an innate need to please stern women, because he suddenly has half your cock in his convulsing throat.
"Fuck," you pant. "Oh my god..."
Whitney circles you and kisses you deeply. "Is his mouth real nice?"
You nod. She kisses you again.
"You can cum down his throat," she says. Alex is busy trying to force the rest of your dick down his clamping esophagus, but all he's succeeding in doing is filling your lap with slimy drool.
"Just remember the deal..." Whitney says.
"You'd better tell him," you moan. "Soon."
Whitney leans down and whispers to Alex. His eyes bulge.
"Got it, you fucking faggot?" she asks him.
Alex nods, eyes welling up from the deepthroating, but pushes himself forward against you all the same. Finally, something deep in his throat gives way, and you're all the way inside. His gags now are deep and guttural, from somewhere in his stomach, and you're sure he's about to lose it - but you lose it first. Bucking your hips uncontrollably, you empty your aching nuts in Alex Best's tiny gullet.
You smell something else in the air, too. You look down. Without any other attention than his mouth being used to get you off, the darkening stain in the crotch of Alex's shorts is the tell-tale sign that he blew a load, too. Just from sucking you off.
Whitney leans back beside you. "Do it now," she commands him.
Alex stands on uncertain feet and hobbles the short distance to where Whitney sits. Swiping a strand of his hair behind his ear, he leans over, lets his mouth hang open, and lets your cum run in a long steady stream to Whitney's waiting mouth. He feeds it to her like a bird feeding a chick. Whitney puts her hand down her sodden panties and rubs herself off to an explosive orgasm that, despite the underwear, deeply stains your carpet with girl-cum.
Whitney isn't done, yet: she grabs Alex roughly by the back of his head, forces his lips to hers and sucks the rest of your cum out of his mouth, her tongue probing insistently. When she finally seems to be satisfied, she tosses him aside, like a used-up tissue, and he falls to the ground, panting, his breaths ragged. He looks like a fucked-out little whore.
"You can cum inside anyone," Whitney says, looking at you with a devilish smile. "But I have to be there... and I get it all back when you're done... that's the rule..."
Alex rubs his face in the stain Whitney made on the floor. He seems more than satisfied with himself. You're pretty satisfied with him too. Whitney purrs in your arms, lets her head droop to your lap, and suckles your dick like a kitten lapping milk. She gets even the last drops of cum from you, and smiles herself stupid over it.