Meanwhile: Vignettes From an Upside-Down World [Pt. I]

The comments below were posted on the page of a video uploaded online. In it is a clip from a movie. A very young woman character is approached by a well-built, handsome older man (DILF), the latter in only a speedo and an unbuttoned shirt during a fantasy sequence she is having, unbeknownst to the viewer. In it, he comes to offer her a massage while also oiling up his own body. While feeling up his torso, he asks her if she thinks he looks as hard and sculpted as rock, interested in her opinion.

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Powertough posted:
Older man seducing younger girl: *sex music*
Older woman seducing younger boy: I AM CALLING THE COPS THE CIA THE FBI INTERPOL--
ok world
>96 likes

Violet02 posted:
*tugs down skirt*
>88 likes

JayEfrin posted:
My DILF neighbors and I do this thing all the time. I even go over and screw them in front of their wives sometimes and after that they bake me a cake while I screw their sons. I wake up of course, eventually. But a girl can dream.
>101 likes

SamanthaIs8wesome posted:
uuuhmm wut movie is this?? (asking for a friend.)
>82 likes

Ponylover-HP1 posted:
praying for this in real life

(& also that my bf's dad never sees this comment XOXOXO)
>89 likes

18etudancedance posted:
Sometimes all you need in life is 1. a half-dressed man-lion covered in oil, and 2. sixteen pairs of dry panties
>92 likes

* * *

The video continues to garner views and numerous cheeky comments. Despite what some might say, many girls have frigged off to it. The DILF fantasy remains elusive in real life, but masturbating to hot willing dads in fictional media isn't.

The following is a scene taken from a cuckquean/NTR-themed porn piece, in which a taken man is sexually dominated by another woman, usually humiliating the cuckquean (ie the woman whose boy is stolen from her) in the process.

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Riip!

The resulting tear revealed her boyfriend's juicy, albeit affably slim, upper body. In public, no less.

Sandra, however, watched on as her man eas exposed before her. Fingers still intertwined with his. Stopped on the middle of the paved pathway. All while this random, nameless girl began ogling Malcolm's chest and stomach, while he patiently stood by as well. Why was no one doing anything? Why was no one saying anything?

In fact...

Shouldn't she?

Another one of those throbs pummeled her head. Ugh. Where was her mom's aspirin when you needed it.

"Nice abs." The voice of the girl broke through Sandra's thoughts. She looked to her side to see Malcolm, her Malcolm, now semi-topless, having his hard, drool-worthy slabs of muscly flesh being gripped, knuckled, and fingered by this complete stranger. Another bolt of possessiveness surged into her. Another strike of incessant puzzlement. Who was this girl? Did she know Malcolm? Did she know her?

Why was she, Sandra fucking Higgins, of all people letting this unfold? Before her very own eyes?

Tightening her hand around Malcolm's, Sandra opened her mouth to say something. But as she was about to, her throat seemed to fall back into her stomach, words fading at her tongue. Her mind began to wander. That butterfly looked nice. What a cloudless sky.

"Thanks," Malcolm said, in reply to the girl's compliment. In tow was a panties-wetting smile, one at this point Sandra was very familiar with. The same one that always displayed his glowing white teeth, and small set of dimples on that perfectly soft-chiseled face.

They were quickly covered when the girl leaned in to kiss him, spitting in his mouth as she did. When she pulled away, a thread of saliva covered their distance.

Suddenly, another pair of girls walked by. Rather than stop and call security, or even address the inanity of the situation, a flat look was in their eyes as one of them dropped a hand to slap Malcom's ass; the other reached out to grope a bicep, squeezing it like it was a stress toy. Sandra grew furious. Again, ready to lash out, maybe even slap one of these cunts for their brazenness. For their brazenness in front of her!

Only for her to do nothing at all.

Instead, she began to feel an undeniable twitch in her crotch, a damp spot forming on her panties as she lightly brushed one thigh against the other. Every time she tried to muster that anger, that desire for vindication, it seemed to fizzle away and warm up, transmuting instead into... desire. A hotness, in which the view from where she was was just fine. In fact, it was getting her increasingly wet and randy. As she thought of the girl squeezing her boyfriend's biceps, (who was now walking away already after giving them a nice slap), she somehow felt less irate, more... disappointed.

Disappointed that she hadn't taken it a step further, and stick out a tongue to lick those curvy muscles she knew her boy had. Smack those pecs. Pull down his pants jam his cock in there His nice, long, precious, virgin cock. Take away his first time. Before even she herself got the chance to. While she watched, wetter and wetter and knuckles slushing in and out of her own pussy, and cumming. Climaxing. Shaking, hard.

Shit. Shit shit shit! Sandra's eyes were near half-lidded at the thoughts suddenly raging through her.

After all, they were just so hot. So naughty, so... so...

Wrong! Her spare hand clutched her face in horror.

She didn't want that! She didn't want any of that!! On what green earth would having her boy's virginity taken by another girl as she watched be anywhere but her worst nightmare?!

No. In spite of everything... in spite of all of this...

She was getting horny.

Horny at the thought of other girls, girls other than her, rocking away on top of her man. The love of her life.

A love she felt a faint tug of insecurity about having, suddenly. Malcolm was such a handsome guy.. but was she really adequate for him?

As the girl who'd ripped off Malcolm's shirt from earlier left, Sandra saw Malcolm pocket something -- a note, that had a string of numbers scrawled over it. For later, perhaps? Was Malcolm acting like some skanky crotch call... and fine with it?

A shiver ran through Sandra's spine. Malcolm looked over to her. She gazed back, her pupils lasered into his big blue eyes.

Worst of all, why did that seem to turn her on?

Yet, she couldn't bring it in her to say anything. She couldn't. She didn't!

Instead, they were both acting, her included, as if nothing was out of the ordinary at all! As if it was only them and the world!

Malcolm! Damn it, Malcolm!

Snap out of it!

You have to snap out of it!!

That was what she wanted to say.

Something was straight up off here and you--

Holding on even tighter, Malcolm smiled and pushed himself against Sandra's arm, which allowed her to put her head on his shoulder. From there, this close, she could easily smell his neutral, yet pleasing musk; feel the warm radiance emanating from his somewhat sweaty, rippled form. He seemed slightly disheveled from the ministrations from earlier, but otherwise unperturbed by his state of dress. Sandra couldn't believe it when she saw that his big, metal dick was hard as diamonds, tenting his jeans, despite his nonchalant appearance as the pair walked hand-in-hand to their next class.

She spoke up automatically, but rather than horror, her voice had the tone of a casual, even sultry flavor she couldn't fathom.

"Wow Malcolm. Your dick is very hard." The vulgarity pouring out of her mouth surprised her. She never talked like anything but a lady, at least not when Malcolm was around. But it seemed like she was not even in control of her own self, Sandra's spare hand sweeping downward to clutch the boy's dick. "Mmmm... how about you and me, we go someplace private, huh baby? What do ya say?"

Malcolm was staring forward. A wrinkle briefly appeared over his brow, then dissipated. "No thanks, babe," he said, smiling again, as he suddenly swung his own hand downward to claw Sandra's soaked undies. "Sorry to say this, but I think it's the right time to tell you. Your small, tight, sensitive lil' pussy is just so..." A weird look suddenly colored her conventionally genial, universally friendly boyfriend's face. If she wasn't seeing things, she could've sworn it looked like something close to condescending, or an even smug smirk. "Sad. Honestly, hun? It's... kinda pathetic. I've put up with the fact that you may fuck me with it at one point for so long now, but now..." Chuckle. "I think I'll pass. Love you for the thought."

He chuckled.

Patting Sandra's crotch almost sympathetically, he withdrew his hand. "I need a real woman. A real pussy. Nice and sloshy. No offense. Just need somewhere to park this fat penis of mine. You know what I mean, don't you?"

Sandra walked alongside him in silence. But eventually, she nodded. Malcolm smiled again.

"Ooh I knew you'd understand! Don't worry," he winked, "you can watch as I get fucked by the other girls -- you know, the ones better equipped to fuck my brains out. I promise!" Pulling her tighter as he picked up the pace, Sandra tried to keep up. "Now let's get moving, lil' Sandra, or we're going to be late!"

Ohgawd. Sandra, in the meantime, was about to erupt. Because, somehow, despite feeling completely embarrassed and full of shame from the surreal conversation that just occurred between the two of them, it was also during Malcolm's dressing down of her (and her pussy) that she felt the horniest she'd ever been in all of her life -- just in those short few, very un-Malcolm-like seconds of mortifying verbal ****. I... I... I think I'm gonna fucking cum, holy shiiiIIiiiIIiiitt...!

She was Sandra Higgins. Head cheerleader, queen bee of the social hierarchy. Legs to die for and an ass you can bounce to space.

And she... was a pathetic, tiny little trigger-pussy, who couldn't satisfy her man even if she wanted to.

That was the apparent "trigger" for Sandra, causing her to buckle her knees and fall to the evenly paved ground, trembling in place like a feline in heat, while Malcolm kneeled down in worry, checking on her.

"You okay, Sandra?" Suddenly, a scowl formes over his face, even as he held onto her hands, pulling her up. "Did you just have an orgasm, in the middle of campus?"

"Yeah..." Sandra stuttered. "Sorry, babe, I just couldn't... I just couldn't hold it in."

His scowl didn't leave even as they stood on their feet. Then finally, looking her up and down, he chimed, "You really are pathetic, aren't you? My own girlfriend, cumming out here like some sixty second pussy. Come on babe, work with me here." He sighed.

Sandra's face grew red, her bare legs still somewhat shaky below her. She wanted to say something, she wanted to tell her usually sweet Malcolm that he was acting strange, not himself. Again, nothing came out. Instead, the two returned to their walk.

Next up: Art History.