Explanation to the Sorority Ch. 02


An observant Literotica reader noted that the first story I posted here—Valerie Finds Her Man—was a tale I had posted in a venue that, sadly, no longer exists. It was most gratifying that the reader suggested I should expose my work to a wider audience and share the stories I had done for the blog no longer on the web. Reader feedback and appreciation being so vitally important for writers who do not write for pay, I was thrilled to get the request. In response to the reader’s request, I posted Explanation to the Sorority, a tale originally shared in the now-closed venue. This sequel also appeared there. —Escriterra

After she had taken me with her strapon that Friday night, Karelle told the girls to consider what they had seen and learned from my demonstration. When we had both recovered sufficiently from our orgasms, and she had removed her strap-on, top, and bra and donned one of the hotel’s bathrobes, she escorted me into the suite’s bathroom, her hand planted firmly on my naked backside as a means to guide me where she wanted me to go. Reaching my ears as she walked me to a place of some privacy between us were snippets of the girls’ conversations as they talked about what had happened that evening:

“Can you believe what we just saw?”

“She really used him. And he seemed to enjoy every bit of it—even when we fingered him.”

“Yeah. I never would have imagined that sliding my finger up some guy’s butt would be such a turn-on. He was tight and hot, and he wriggled and moaned when my finger was inside him. That was unbelievable.”

“Having him squirm while I massaged inside of him—what a trip!”

“But the best part was pushing past the entrance of his asshole. That just made it so real about how we controlled him.”

“He actually WANTED us to do it to him. Did you see how he opened up when Karelle told him to surrender to our fingers?”

“And Nya did it TWICE!”

“Was it more fun the second time, Nya?” Giggles and laughter. “When you put your finger inside him to get him ready for her strap-on, you were really getting into it. We all saw.” More laughter.

“Oh, come on! We all know that every one of us enjoyed finger-fucking Scott in the ass!”

Excited chatter, laughter, whispered confessions, musings about what tonight would mean for their future encounters with boyfriends—all this swirled through the after-proceedings of the night’s demonstration as Karelle ushered me to a private conversation.

And you know what? I was proud to have been the male who surrendered himself for their education.

“You were a very good boy, Scott,” Karelle cooed as she closed the bathroom door behind us. An expansive granite countertop and sink basin stretched across one wall, and Karelle leaned against it as she considered me standing before her, still naked with my shrunken cock providing mute testimony to the exhausting sexual experience she had just orchestrated. “Was tonight everything I promised it would be?” She arched an eyebrow and looked at me.

“I could not have imagined this night, Karelle. You teased me and toyed with me and strutted me about in front of those girls in ways that, I swear, will give me fantasies that will cause me to jack off until the day I die. And when you slid your strap-on inside me and fucked me, you were a goddess who knew everything about strapping a man. You were just–“

She leaned forward abruptly and pressed a finger to my lips. “Hush, Scott. Your nasty imagination and shameless masturbating when you think of me and what happened tonight will doubtless provide you with some amusement. But remember: This is about MY pleasure and sexual gratification. Can you handle more of that this weekend?”

Unbelievably (given my totally spent condition) my shriveled dick twitched at those words. My puzzled, yet hopeful, expression conveyed clearly that I thought Karelle ‘s use of me was over. Her emails spoke only of a Friday night I would never forget.

“I never promise anything other than one evening. Many men aren’t willing to surrender completely. They think that after I spank them once or slip a finger inside them that their obligation is over, and they want to fuck me at that point.”

She straightened her elbows in order to push herself forward from the countertop and lean toward me. “It doesn’t happen for them. I kick them out.” Like a cat prowling around the mouse she is toying with, Karelle moved to my side so she could whisper in my ear. “But you are a fine and willing plaything, Scott. I have the pledge mistress’ permission to reward the girl who did the best job of being a pledge to the sorority. It happens to be Nya.”

Moving behind me so that she looked over my shoulder at me in the mirror, she continued. “Nya helped me with my harness for a reason, Scott. I wanted her to see close up how to put it on so that she’d do it well tomorrow for herself.” Karelle nuzzled my neck, her gaze still locked on mine in the mirror. “I’m going to give your asshole to Nya tomorrow and coach her in how to penetrate you, to beşevler escort slide in deep and grind against your ass in just the right way to nudge the other end of the strap-on repeatedly against her G-spot, to use your ass for her pleasure. She’s going to fuck you while the other girls watch.”

Did Karelle see the blood drain from my face? She grinned and reached a hand around to tweak and tug on my nipple. “I really think you’d like that. I take a very active role when I coach, and I’ll bet Nya will need a lot of coaching—you know how it is with rookies.” Pausing for a moment of thoughtful consideration, she mused, “But she was thorough and enthusiastic when she readied your asshole to receive my strap-on. Perhaps she has a natural talent in these things. Either way, with my coaching and your surrender, I feel certain she will use you well to trigger her own orgasm as she fucks you.”

If my poor, exhausted cock couldn’t respond at this point to Karelle’s teasing, my mind certainly could. Visualizing what Karelle was describing nearly brought a whimper to my lips.

Releasing my nipple and trailing a finger down my ribcage (I shivered), she stepped around me to resume her position in front of me, leaning against the countertop. “I will require that you have recovered sufficiently to present us all with a firm, stiff erection tomorrow, so . . .” and she leaned forward and down to grab my flaccid cock between her thumb and the crook of her forefinger, “. . . this little thing had better get its beauty rest tonight.” And she tugged to emphasize her point. Releasing, she straightened while at the same time untying the fabric belt of the bathrobe so that it fell open, her lithe and sexy body flashing into view for a tantalizing moment.

Not knowing what she would do next, I remained as I was. Naked. Waiting.

Karelle pressed her nude body against me, sealing us together as the bathrobe slid from her shoulders. Mimicking her passionate and controlling behavior in the elevator, she placed one hand on the back of my head and the other on my ass. She again consumed me with her erotic, deep-inside-my-mouth kiss, a hungry and wanton lust transmitted in no uncertain terms straight into the most ancient and animalistic part of my brain.

My arms encircled her, pulling her tighter against me, receiving and welcoming her lustful attack.

She broke the kiss and looked in my eyes. “Do you like my ass, Scott? Look in the mirror and tell me.”

Again, this was an easy assignment.

“It is magnificent, Karelle.”

“Perhaps I’ll let you slide your tongue inside it this weekend.”

She once more devoured my mouth, her taut nipples pressing into my chest. I smelled her arousal.

How we males sometimes envy the multi-orgasmic woman, for whom only a few minutes’ recovery can be enough to allow another intense, pleasurable release.

Breaking the kiss a final time, Karelle twirled in front of me and reached down for her robe. In the process she backed her divine ass into my crotch, trapping my spent cock (which, remarkably, was stirring with signs of life). She ground herself against me for a moment, then stood and slipped on the robe.

“And if you continue to be an excellent plaything, demonstration sextoy, and confidant for us girls as to why you so enjoy being used and taken—why that turns you on so much and gets you so hard and hot and willing to take a strap-on up your ass when we fuck you—then maybe . . .” she walked to the door, pausing with her hand on the door handle, “. . . maybe I will allow you to slide your gorgeous, hard cock into my pussy.” Turning to look at me, she said, “Maybe I will let you fuck me, Scott.”

She left.

How long did I stand there after that? Fifteen seconds? Fifteen years? I didn’t know anything except that Karelle Matthews was going to see to it that tomorrow I would again surrender my naked ass to a strap-on protruding from the crotch of a woman eager to use it on me, and that—if I continued pleasing her with willing submission to her desires and directions for more shameless displays of my nakedness and eagerness to be taken—she would take my cock inside her pussy. In my current state it was not difficult to imagine that Karelle knew as much about fucking a man with her pussy as she knew about fucking a man with her strap-on.

And then the ultimate sex organ—the brain—proved its dominance over less resilient sex organs. The thoughts running through my brain about what Karelle had just said triggered the release of hormones that sent blood surging back into my cock.

Seeing myself start to harden in the mirror brought a smile to my face.

“Scott.” Knock-knock. “Scott? Can I come in?” Knock-knock. “Karelle said to bring you this.”

It was Nya.

She opened the door hesitantly, peeking around it. I was glad not to be completely flaccid at that moment, given my total nakedness in front of this young, attractive coed. She held another of the hotel’s bathrobes in her hand.

I was awkward. beylikdüzü escort My hand moved briefly in front of my crotch (a subconscious reaction, I suppose). Quickly realizing how absolutely silly that must have looked, I moved the hand to my side and tried to be non-plussed. (Right. Like this happened every day.)

Nya smiled coyly.

Stepping completely into the bathroom, she said, “Karelle says you should wear this,” she gestured with the bathrobe, “to go up to your room.”

Seeing the puzzlement in my eyes, Nya continued. “She just told us that one of the sexiest things about controlling a man is knowing that he’s waiting for you. It gets her hot to know that he’s naked when he’s waiting. You won’t get your clothes back tonight.”

This seemed like an eminently fine arrangement to me. Waiting until tomorrow to get my clothes, and donning the bathrobe in the meantime to go to whatever room Karelle had reserved for me, was a good trade-off for making Karelle hot enough for my body (though at this point, she could have had my soul, as well) to want me to slip my tongue up inside her lovely asshole and drive my hard cock into her glistening pussy.

“You’re to relax the rest of the evening, call room service if you want something to eat, and plan on being ready to go to brunch at 11 AM. Karelle will send up your clothes then.” Nya’s pretty eyes darted upward for moment, recalling whether there were any other directions Karelle had given her. “Oh, yeah. I’m supposed to help you into this robe.”

I doubt Nya really had trouble recalling that. She was nervous.

Holding the robe in a fashion men have done for decades as they help their ladies into coats, Nya waited for me to slide an arm into one sleeve. As I reached back to put the other arm in, she blurted out in rapid-fire manner a final set of directions from Karelle. “Karelle took the belt off of this robe. Let the front hang open. I’m to accompany you up to your room and let you in.”

Whatever blood had made its way back to my cock instantly retreated.

And here is something that never fails to confound me. I would replay this outrageous scene in my mind numberless times in the future, and I knew in this present moment that future consideration of what Nya had just said and done would excite me powerfully. Right now, in the actual situation, it scared the hell out of me. This is often the case with strap-on encounters, too, and is undoubtedly one of their strong appeals. The fantasy is always mind-bending and sexy and completely arousing. (Unending hours, my fist encircling my cock, stroking while imagining all manner of strap-on encounters attest to this fact.) But the stomach-clenching reality of total nakedness in front of the woman, opening up for her, asking her to slide her fake cock deep inside me—that can be really, really scary. I imagine it must be like standing at the door of the plane, contemplating your first parachute jump: All the planning and excitement in the world as you prepare just can’t get you ready for the fear, the adrenaline rush, the tortuous teetering on the precipice of willful surrender that courses through your body right before you step out into the nothingness.

So it was for me hearing those words from Nya. The thought of her walking me down the hall to the elevator, getting into the elevator hoping no one is there when the doors slide open, exiting the elevator with the same dread of seeing someone, and then surviving the trip from elevator to my room—all the time with my naked cock and balls on display—created complete terror.

Just like the first time I opened to a woman’s strap-on.

“We like it that you’re okay with showing us your naked body, Scott,” said Nya. She was nervous. While that admission for her may not have held anywhere near the risk for societal consequences as a heterosexual man admitting that he likes taking a strap-on in his ass during sex (Kristi’s first question of the evening, Are you gay? , hinted at both our society’s prejudice against homosexuality and its complete misunderstanding of female-to-male strap-on engagement), it was in some ways still a risk for a woman to admit openly that she likes the purely physical, sensual aspects of sex, including objectifying a man for her own sexual arousal. To her credit, Karelle had created a safe place for these coeds to make that admission.

I suspected Nya would quickly become very comfortable telling a man she enjoys seeing him naked and would no longer have a second thought about uninformed, small-minded judgments. I was eager to help her embrace her newfound liberation by being the male sex object she would play with while a true master in the art and science of taking a man’s ass helped her appreciate and savor the sexiness and nuances of strap-on play.

Nya was indeed a beauty. Maybe 5’8″ and slender with what I guessed were perky B-cup tits hidden beneath a simple shirt of a creamy tan color that was a beautiful complement to her mocha skin tone. She bilecik escort wore fashionable jeans, embroidered down one leg, that were impossibly snug against the curves of her butt. Large, expressive brown eyes were part of a pretty face that also included full, sensuous lips.

Had I hit the jackpot, or what? I was happy to be at Karelle’s direction with any woman. To be the toy at the hands of this stunner as Karelle instructed her in using me was phenomenal.

Nya left the bathroom, leaving the door open. I followed, the robe billowing out like a Matrix-style duster as I stepped into the room where Karelle and the girls were lounging and talking among themselves.

Karelle reached for her bag and drew out the key card for the room where I would spend the night. She handed it to Nya, looking at me to say, “Nya will take you up to your room, Scott. She’ll let me know when she returns that you’ve been a dear and followed my directions explicitly.”

The girls in the room all chimed in at that point (directions from Karelle?):

Jenna: “We’ll see you tomorrow, Scott. It was an incredible turn-on sliding our fingers inside you tonight.”

Kristi: “Get a good night’s rest. You’ll need your energy for what’s going to happen tomorrow!”

Celia: “We all liked seeing you open up for our fingers and Karelle’s strap-on. We can’t wait to see it again.”

Cindy: “It was great fun spreading lotion on your naked ass after your spanking, Scott. I can’t wait to play with your naked butt again.”

Talia (now completely over her self-consciousness with explicit language): “Your cock and balls hanging down between your legs as you spread your asshole open for us looked so hot, Scott. I loved seeing that. When you do it for us tomorrow, I know I’m going to get wet.”

Joanne: “Karelle says we’ll get to fondle your balls while you get your ass fucked tomorrow, Scott. Sweet dreams!”

Karelle smiled sweetly at me. “Take him up to his room, Nya.”

I hesitated. Nya waited expectantly at the door, holding both the room key and my small satchel.

Rising from her seat, Karelle walked to me and whispered in my ear, “This makes you hot, Scott. I know it. The danger is alluring, especially in the company of a beautiful girl like Nya. You hesitate now, but the rush when you step out that door will be intoxicating, and the afterglow when you get to your room will be delicious. Do this for me, Scott.”

And she returned to her seat.

I had no idea what time it was. Was it late enough that the chances of encountering traffic in the hallway would be small? Was there a conference or convention or something at the hotel that would generate a lot of elevator usage?

Then I realized that, with my hands in the pockets of the robe, it would be simple to quickly draw the front of the robe closed.

Karelle had found yet another way to tease me. I followed Nya out the door.

We walked toward the elevator, my hands in the pockets of the robe, the front open. No one was in the hallway. In the elevator (again, no one inside), Nya slid the room card into the slot at the top of the bank of buttons and an “Express to Penthouse” message flashed across the small LCD screen that was displaying video of a waterfall as an accompaniment to the soothing music playing through the speakers in the ceiling.

Classy all the way, I thought about Karelle.

Nya talked to me during the short elevator ride up to the top of the hotel. “You really blew us away tonight, Scott. None of us expected anything like that.”

“Well, I could never have imagined anything like that, either. Does your sorority do this every year?”

Nya smiled. “I don’t really know. The pledge mistress has been telling us all semester that successful initiates would get a special reward, but the sisters only talked about stuff like a fancy party or a night on the town that could include a trip to the local male strip club. No one ever told any of us about this.” She looked at me as the bell sounded our arrival at the penthouse level. “I’m glad somebody thought this up, though. My entire thinking about sex has been expanded. Seeing in person how Karelle used you for her own sexual pleasure makes me realize it’s okay to do that every now and then with a guy.”

As we walked toward the room, I admitted, “From the guy’s perspective, and especially for college-aged guys, it usually takes some special convincing. But once they’ve experienced it, and they see the benefits of the girl being totally turned on, they get smart about things.”

We had reached the room. Nya inserted the key card and opened the door for me. “I know you’re right, and I’m going to get Karelle to give me some good deep-throating tips. I figure I’m already getting the hang of sliding my finger inside a guy’s butt, thanks to you.”

I started to suspect that Nya was in on all of this with Karelle. The way she was teasing me, was comfortable saying what she’d just said. Surely she wasn’t an uninitiated college coed. Was she?

I was inside the room, Nya still standing at the opened door, the room card in her hand. “Give me your robe, Scott.” In the soft glow of the room’s interior, lit as it was by the diffused glimmer of the sconce lighting on the wall by the door, I shrugged off the robe, again naked to Nya’s gaze. I handed her the robe, and she gave me my satchel.

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