Imogen’s Jar

There’s no doubt in your mind that Imogen should be the one to receive all your tickets. The way she looks in that dinner jacket (and only that dinner jacket) that would be so easy to tear off… that’s persuasive as any argument gets.

“As you know, we’ll be drawing five names from each raffle jar, and each sorority sister will get the chance to pick which of those five lucky guys she wants to take upstairs with her,” Savannah announces into the megaphone.

After the guys for Tatiana and Michelle’s jar are drawn, Savannah calls down Imogen. She struts down the steps, and she must know how close the jacket comes to falling off her shoulders, because the way it delicately balances off her is the most tantalizing tease you can think of. She’s making every man who didn’t pick her regret their choice. You, standing in the thick of the crowd, only regret not buying more tickets.

Savannah sticks her hand in the jar, shuffling up all the raffle tickets in there, and pulls out five tickets. Lifting her megaphone up, she calls out the names: “Winning the draw for Imogen, here are your five lucky guys! Please step up to the staircase Emilio Sosa, Stewart Haynes, Alex Knight, William Carter III, and Leeroy Diagne!”

You hear groans of disappointment as, inevitably, most of the men lose the raffle. Even with your fistful of tickets, you weren’t sure that your name would be called. You make your way up to the bottom of the staircase, standing shoulder to shoulder with the four other men who were called up. They’re good looking guys, well-groomed and reasonably stylish.

“What a bunch of strapping young bucks,” Imogen says, taking you all in. “Put together men like you are all well and good, but I’m looking for somebody who knows how to get dirty. Come on, guys, give me your dirtiest line. Show me what you got.”

She points to the first guy in line, and he stutters for a second before starting to speak.

“You… you’re hot… hotter than… than the sun,” he says.

“Pfft, weak sauce,” Imogen says, waving a dismissive hand at him. She points to somebody else.

He takes a beat and then slicks his hair back, crowing: “I’d suck your daddy’s dick just to taste the recipe!”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Imogen laughs, clapping her hands together. Then, she points at the next guy in line. “You, you’re next!”

He shrugs and says: “Fuck this, I ain’t playin’ for this shit.”

With that, he promptly exits the line of guys and rejoins the crowd.

“Natural selection at work,” Imogen quips, much to the enjoyment of the people. She skips over you and points to the other remaining guy.

“I… I’d snort the crust off your ass to get high,” he says after a moment.

“Nice and dirty,” Imogen says. “Promising.”

Finally, she turns to you. You, who have had the most to think, are more than prepared for this moment.
“I’d slurp the Ganges raw if you’d bathed in it a year ago,” you say. “Warts, piss, shit and all.”

Imogen does a double-take and then grabs the megaphone from Savannah’s hand, shouting into it: “Ladies and gentleman, now that is truly foul. Three million liters of sewage. A day! We have a winner here, and it wasn’t even close.”

“Dude, how do you come up with such demented shit,” one of the guys says, clapping your back.

“Pure talent, man,” you laugh, and follow Imogen up the staircase.

The room Imogen takes you to isn’t hers. In fact, it isn’t anybody’s. It’s a barebones bedroom kept by the sorority sisters for events just like this: a place to get intimate without fear of bringing any baggage in.

“Who knew you had such a foul mouth?” Imogen laughs, shutting the door behind you. She gives your ass a smack and says: “Let’s see if your actions can back up that talk.”

You make your point by scooping the would-be lawyer up and dumping her on the bed, tearing her bra off and panties down. Now she’s just wearing her jacket, her twin tits standing out, but it’s her ass that you’re after. Down you dive, grabbing those juicy globes. You feel Imogen’s hand on the back of your head, and you know where it’s destined to go.

You shove your mouth onto her cunt, your tongue striking into her core with a sudden motion.

“Give it to me good,” Imogen moans, mashing her pussy further into your face.

You put your whole head into the act, your nose practically sinking into those folds of hers, dangerously close to brown-nosing, and you commit to the dirty deed, tongue-fucking her with long jabs of your tongue. In and out your tongue slithers, making itself felt all over her innards. Your hands grip her ass tighter as you pull Imogen closer into you, and then, feeling inspired, you give her booty a big ol’ smack.

“Yes!” Imogen screams as she feels your palm connect with her ass.

“Yes!” she screams again as you give it a second smack.

If you could see her ass now you’d see just how it had turned bright red, but of course, your head is busy giving its own brand of pleasure. Imogen’s cunt is a hot, dripping mess, the salty taste on your tongue unmistakable. You continue spanking the Theta sister, her tender ass flushing cherry red under the **** of your hand.

“That’s what a dirty girl like you deserves,” you say, after getting a much needed lungful of air.

Imogen screams in pleasure once more as you spank her ass.

“Fuck, I was so close,” she moans, forcing your head back down to her nether regions.

You’re glad to comply. You thrust your tongue back into her, doing circles around her pipes. Every spank you land on her rings in the air and brings a shiver of pleasure with it, and you have to wonder what gets her off more—the feel of your tongue grazing across her cunt, or the way your hand is tearing up her ass.

Smack. Smack. Smack. You find a good rhythm that has her screaming with each smack of your hand, until Imogen collapses atop you as she cums, her tits heaving on top of you while she struggles for breath, her raw ass wriggling in the air. You keep going with your impromptu meal, driving Imogen even more wild, fresh nectar coming straight from the fruit, until she’s all spent.

“I knew there was a reason I picked you,” Imogen pants, finally letting up on your head. “You knew… just what I needed.”

{if Imogen > 100} “And I know exactly what you need next,” you say. {else} “Of course I did,” you say. {endif}

{if Imogen > 100} “Yeah?” Imogen asks, a daring smile on her face. {else} “We’ll have to see whether you can repeat the feat some other day,” she smiles. {endif}

Imogen +30