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Summary: Coed gets revenge on cheating boyfriend in a surprising way.
Thanks to the real SABRINA who requested this story.
Note 1: This is a Halloween 2016 Contest Story so please vote.
Note 2: Thanks to Tex Beethoven, Dave, Robert, and Wayne for editing.
My Ex-Boyfriend’s Hot Mom
When people first see me, no one makes eye contact… guys or girls… young or old.
The first thing they look at… usually unable to stop staring at is my tits… which come from a long line of big tits (my mother, my grandmother, my great-grandmother all are skinny (I’m 126 pounds and 5’4″) and huge breasted (I’m a 38DD))… part of my Latina heritage.
Now although I have a great body with a small waist and a tight ass (I run every morning, and I tan every chance I get), I have a tough time holding onto a man.
Maybe it’s the fact that I’m an extreme introvert. When I mention this characteristic, very few people believe it about me, since I work as a bartender and can flirt like a minx. Yet that is a façade… a persona I create to get great tips to pay my way through college. Truth is, I hate fake conversation and I’d rather go home and read a good book than flirt with guys, get drunk or get hit on.
Maybe it’s because I’m not your stereotypical Latina. Truth is, I am quite shy (I was the only Latina in my elementary and middle school and found it easier to fade into the background than to try and fit in with the whites), insecure (people fall for my body, not my mind or personality… thus although I know my body is amazing, I still have an inferiority complex about who I am)… I wish people… including myself… could see me as smart, witty, pretty, athletic, Latina and beautiful.
I hide these insecurities by flaunting my body and being pretty sexually wild. I’ve often had oral sex in public (in taxis, at the beach, in washrooms, sometimes I even get eaten out while working behind the bar). I encourage guys to come on my face and tits. I actively enjoy being coated in cum; one of my wildest unachieved fantasies is being the centerpiece of a bukkake. I take it in the ass (only done this a few times, but my inner submissiveness makes me willing to do the things the ‘good girls’ don’t do). I often think I can find love through sex… but in the end sex is just that…sex. Of course once the sex is done I go into a period of self-loathing, which I try to break out of through more sex as I repeat the same cycle over and over again.
Anyway, this story is not about my race… or my big tits… or my inferiority complex… no, it’s about how I tried to get revenge on my asshole of a boyfriend and ended up doing it in an epically perfect way… and discovered I didn’t have to stay locked in as a submissive for guys… but I could play with girls in an egalitarian way and have lots of fun doing so. Oops, did I just give away the ending? Maybe so, but we’re not there yet. I’ve got some hell to slog through first.
I caught my boyfriend cheating on me at a party when I got off work early and went over there to surprise him. But no, it was me who got the surprise.
I couldn’t find him anywhere, and he wasn’t answering his cell, which wasn’t anything new.
I was getting worried and annoyed, when I walked outside and saw him sitting on the ledge of a hot tub getting a blow job from some skinny white bitch with tiny tits.
Most Latinas would have walked over to the hot tub, yanked the white skank off their man’s cock, bitch slapped her to kingdom come and then berated her man for the next 24 hours.
But that isn’t me.
No, I stared for an eternity, paralyzed by the insecurity coursing through me.
It wasn’t ‘what a fucking asshole’… okay, yes, it was what a fucking asshole too, but my main thought was why wasn’t I good enough for him?
I sucked his cock almost every day.
I took facials.
I’d had cum spewed between my tits and then been made to go to class or work with his cum dried between my excessive money-makers.
I took it in the ass for him.
I let him spank me until my ass cheeks burned cherry red.
I allowed him to tie me up spread eagled on the bed while he finger fucked me, or played PlayStation or face fucked me… oddly the helpless feeling only enhanced my orgasms… misery apparently loving cum-pany.
I sucked him in a variety of risqué locations: in a drive-thru, in the back of a taxi, in a movie theatre, in the kitchen while his mom was in the living room, and under the table at a four star restaurant.
I rode him in the car with four others in it; I had let him fuck me in a crowded subway car; I had fucked him while talking on the phone with my mother; I had been double penetrated by him in my pussy and a vibrator in my ass while he watched sports highlights.
He also loved to roleplay. I played so many slutty versions of professions.
I played slutty superheroes and comic book characters.
I dressed up as animals… a dog, a frog (yep) and his favourite… a kitty… bahis firmaları a super, slutty kitty meowing constantly because she was in heat.
I also played dozens of different slutty professionals: slutty cowgirl, slutty professor, slutty cop, slutty hooters girl (which surprisingly I didn’t get hired for in real life!!!) and, of course slutty nurse… just to name a few.
He liked Disney princesses too, which I thought was odd, but his favourite was slutty schoolgirl where he played a teacher (he was going to school to become one like his mom) and I played his failing student trying to earn an A.
Besides all the slutty roleplay, he kept pushing me further into humiliation and submission including:
I had to walk down the beach with a load of cum all over my face. The humiliation somehow turned me on.
He had me go to a wedding with a vibrating egg inside my cunt… which he turned on during the vows… which made me moan out load, drawing a surprised look from the bride just before she said, “I do.”
I went to work with a butt plug lodged up my ass for eight hours.
I sucked his cock while his friend watched. He then came on my face and made me give his buddy a hand job.
I even got fisted while I was skyping with my nana… actually coming in front of her… thankfully she didn’t catch on. I have no idea how.
In retrospect… he was a complete asshole.
Of course I had known this all along.
Yet I kept coming back for more.
I craved the humiliation.
I craved the obedience.
I craved the submission.
And of course from our long textured history, the asshole knew all this, so when he looked around and saw me he made matters worse.
He didn’t stop her.
He didn’t apologize.
He showed no signs of guilt or remorse.
He acted casual.
He asked, “Do you want to come over here and join Megan?”
I couldn’t believe his audacity.
Yet his constantly growing control over me sexually and the increasingly greater power I had always given him should have made it no surprise. A threesome with another girl was the obvious next step. I had become his slut and he was treating me as such.
But for me this was the final straw. He had broken my cameltoe, so to speak.
I turned and walked away, hearing him calling to me, “Honey, I thought you would want to do this.”
Tears streamed down my face as the last six months of my life crashed and burned. This had been the longest relationship in my life, we had even dated back in high school, and any fond memories I had retained were in ashes.
He didn’t love me. Never had.
He had only used me.
And I had allowed it to happen.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
That night ended with ice cream, vodka and crying on my sweet roommate’s shoulder. Karen had never liked my boyfriend and had often suggested that maybe I should switch to her team since all guys were assholes and only a woman really knew how to please another woman. She demonstrated this fact on many rotating coeds (she had brought home at least 50 girls this semester alone) and older women (she brought home a MILF every week too: from teachers, to married women, to even a nun (yes an actual nun, initially wearing an actual black habit, who amazingly had bragged, “once you eat black, you’ll never go back” even though her naked skin was alabaster white). Karen’s rationale was that she needed to share the wealth, a sexual wealth that she demonstrated having in abundance. Before long, every single one of these girls and women was screaming in euphoria.
The next night, Karen refused to allow me to drown in my own tears and self-pity party. Instead, she dragged me out to a nightclub that she frequented a lot… a place where she often hunted down someone to take home and dine on (she loved eating pussy… it was her favourite food group I think).
I protested, I complained, I whined, I played the victim, but she would have none of it. She really was a good friend, and in the end I relented. I always relented, whether to my asshole of a now ex-boyfriend, my parents, or my roommate.
She also insisted I dress like a slut and get some rebound sex… if not from her tongue or one of half a dozen strap-ons… then from some random big cocked stud.
So I did.
Dressing sexy did cheer me up and I had a good time at the bar… getting hit on by a lot of guys and a couple of girls… but I didn’t want sex. I just wanted to live my Cindy Lauper philosophy of just having fun and then going home and ‘She Bopping’.
One more crazy thing about me… I had never come from sex… ever. I always had to finish myself off. This was something Karen had often promised she could fix in ten minutes if I gave her the chance… an offer that was getting more and more tempting.
But I’d resisted the temptation so far….
Instead, I used my favourite rabbit vibrator. I often did this after I got home from getting laid… since my ex-asshole never got me off.
I began to wonder… kaçak iddaa is it me?
Why would he cheat on me?
Why would he assume I would do a threesome with him?
Why couldn’t I come from sex?
What was wrong with me?
I went into a month of pitiful self-loathing, where I tried to find refuge by chatting and skyping with strangers online. My self-esteem had reached rock bottom and I was trying to avoid admitting the fact by flaunting my assets and talking like a cheap slut to strangers.
The cleavage displayed in the profile picture I put on the website meant I had hundreds of invites to chat; men are shallow and my tits were the bait.
But then this began to bore me… I still was only getting off with my toys, and online play was no fun after I came and returned to my baseline of self-loathing.
I wanted not only to be seen as a sexy siren, but also to be valued for my brains, my sensuality and my personality.
Online only achieved one of those….
Then fate intervened.
A fate that changed everything….
But at the time I simply thought it would be great to show my asshole of an ex that I had moved on… even though I hadn’t.
By chance I bumped into Mrs. Walker, his mom, at the grocery store. She had also been my high school English teacher a couple years earlier. It’s a strange but true coincidence that I ended up dating my favourite English teacher’s son.
She greeted me warmly, “Hi, Sabrina,” and pulled me in for a hug.
“Hi, Mrs. Walker,” I greeted, having always thought she was a great person.
Letting go after an embrace lasting more than several seconds, she always gave long hugs, she sympathised, “Sorry about you and Jake.”
I shrugged, trying to be strong, “Yeah, well college relationships often don’t last.”
“I suppose,” she nodded, looking remorseful. “But I thought you two might be the ones who did.”
Deciding I wanted to make it clear he was to blame for our end, I revealed, “Well, he made the choice to end it.”
“He did?” she asked, clearly surprised.
“What did he tell you?” I asked, my anger already bubbling at the thought he pinned the break up on me.
“Just that you ended it,” she answered. “I tried to find out more but he made it clear he didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Of course he did,” I sighed… God forbid a man take responsibility for his actions. “He cheated on me,” I told her, wanting her to know it wasn’t me.
“Really? Well I’m going to have a little chat with him,” she said, seeming to be as annoyed as I was.
I shrugged, “It is what it is.”
“Either way,” she said. “I expect you at the annual Halloween party, is that clear?”
“I don’t know,” I said, thinking how awkward it would be to see him again… especially if he was there with some skank.
“I won’t take no for an answer, Sabrina,” she said, her teacher tone suddenly there. She had pushed me in high school to get the 90s I had always fallen short of, and she was a woman I admired greatly.
“What about Jake?”
“You’ll be my guest,” she said. “He won’t say a thing. That said, I expect you to look absolutely sexy as hell.”
I smiled. “Mmmmm, I see where you’re going with this.”
“Let’s make him regret his stupidity,” she said, hugging me again, her smallish but very firm breasts again denting my ginormous ones.
“Game on,” I joked, thinking the best way out of this funk was revenge. I thought about fucking one of his friends that night… like Mike or Dave… or that cocky, black stud, Jamal.
She headed off and for the first time in a while I felt better.
I would get my revenge by fucking one of his friends… or maybe two… or maybe I could even make my gangbang fantasy become a reality.
For the first time since seeing Jake getting blown by the anorexic Barbie doll, I was feeling good about myself.
Before heading home, I went directly to a Halloween store… determined to walk out with the sexiest, sluttiest outfit they had. One that would showcase all my assets and have every guy there drooling and maybe even some of the girls….
I spent almost two hours there, determined to find the perfect costume to showcase my tits, ass and legs.
I tried on slutty school girl (even sluttier than the outfit I had worn when I was being Jake’s bimbo slut).
I tried on slutty pirate, slutty nurse, slutty cowgirl, slutty maid, slutty harem girl, slutty cop….
Finally, I found the perfect outfit. One that I was confident would make me the center of the party and easily entice Jake’s friends to come to me, and maybe on me.
A naughty nun.
A nasty nun.
A wicked nun.
And God, was I going to sin.
The costume was really nothing more than a skimpy, tight leather black dress, the head gear, and a cross.
I would add a pair of sheer thigh high stockings with the lace tops of the stockings completely in view… and a pair of five inch heels. An abbess would have swooned at the very sight of such a scandalous nun!
I kaçak bahis was going to tempt every single one there.
Excited and confident, I headed home, suddenly looking forward to going out for Halloween and even to seeing my asshole of an ex-boyfriend.
Karen smiled as I walked out of my room all dressed up and ready to sin, “Ohhh Sister, may I come into your confessionary and expose my sinful thoughts and deeds?”
“I think that’s the job of a priest,” I laughed, always knowing exactly how good I looked because of my lesbian roommate’s frank assessment of me. Tonight it was obvious that I was indeed hot and slutty. There was no doubt she still hoped to convince me to sample how the other side lives… as she reminded me it’s 2016 and being straight is so démodé.
“Well, then how about I just bury my face in your cunt and we can sin our way to heaven?” she bluntly rephrased.
“Tell you what,” I smiled. “If I don’t get laid by some stud tonight, you can get me off.”
“I’m keeping you to that,” she said, standing up and walking to me.
“I’m serious, if I don’t get some big dick in me tonight, or two or three, I’ll come home and let you show me what you got,” I promised, confident that in this outfit I was going to get fucked.
“I’m not kidding either,” she promised back, “give me half an hour and you will never want dick inside you again.”
“Don’t you fuck your women?” I asked, having seen her variety of strap-ons and heard many women begging for her to fuck them harder.
“I can get you to come in so many ways you will never look at a man again,” she purred, leaning in and kissing my neck.
Her hot breath and the kiss on the neck sent a chill up my spine. I moved away before I could get any more hot and bothered, “Not yet. You get my cunt only if it isn’t plugged tonight by some big, hard, man meat.”
“Disgusting,” she said, making a face as if she was about to puke.
“Maybe I’ll let you eat my cunt after I get a load or two of cum,” I added, enjoying pushing her out of her comfort zone for once.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” she protested dramatically, covering her ears.
I laughed as I headed out for my evening of revenge.
Once I reached the Walker house and the party, I took a deep breath and headed inside.
I suddenly got nervous, my insecurity hitting me the moment I was inside. I could feel eyes staring at me, but I couldn’t tell if it was ‘Holy shit, I want to fuck her,’ or ‘What the hell is she doing here?’
I saw Jake talking with a redhead dressed as Ariel from ‘The Little Mermaid’ (my favourite Disney movie), likely his latest prey and all the air whooshed out of me as if I had been gut-punched.
I was reconsidering my ridiculous plan of revenge when I heard my name called. “Sabrina.”
I turned to my left to see Mrs. Walker in a costume surprisingly hot for a teacher. She was dressed as a schoolgirl, one oddly wearing thigh highs. I smiled at the irony of her dressed as her son’s favourite fantasy, but of course being off limits.
I tried to hide my insecurity behind a big fake smile, “Wow, you look way different.”
“Different good or different bad?” she fished, as she pulled me into a hug.
“How about different hot?” I answered, our tits pressing against each other, mine swelling noticeably around hers.
“You look sinfully delicious,” she complimented.
I was flattered, and laughed, “I think I may look a little too slutty.”
“It’s Halloween, Sabrina,” Mrs. Walker shrugged. “Tonight there is no such thing as too slutty.”
“Not words I thought my English teacher would ever say,” I laughed, a bit scandalised, thinking of my swooning abbess.
“I’m not your English teacher anymore,” she stressed, grabbing my hand. “Let’s get you a drink.”
“Another thing I never thought a former teacher would say to me,” I said, following her, glancing over to Jake who was watching me with heart-stopping menace in his gaze. I quickly turned away and back to Mrs. Walker’s reassuring smile, my self-confidence restored almost as quickly as it had faded.
“Oh sweetheart, you may hear me say a lot of things a teacher shouldn’t say,” she replied, giving my hand a squeeze.
I laughed, thinking it was neat to see a teacher in such a different light, “Looking forward to it.”
“I bet you are,” she said, in a tone that was ominous in a way I couldn’t describe other than it being similar to how Karen would talk. I shook it off as paranoid and silly as she asked, “What do you like to drink?”
“Gin,” I answered.
“Ooooooh, looking to get drunk and lower your expectations,” she joked.
“Maybe a little of both,” I shrugged, as I looked around to see if any of Jake’s friends were there.
She grabbed an entire bottle of gin, some mix, two glasses, and asked, “Will you come and keep me company for a while? My asshole of a son has requested that I don’t hang around down here all night, especially dressed like this, since many of his friends were also my students.”
“It’s your house,” I pointed out, getting annoyed by the dickhead’s pretentious expectations and treating his mother with such disrespect.
“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “I’d rather not watch college kids drink, make-out and fuck.”
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