The Great Dildo Wars - Sex Stories

The Great Dildo Wars

... day for the rest of the year, I still wouldn’t come close to your record. You’re like the Wayne Gretsky of sluts.” I say, confident she would furiously google who that was later.

Kimmy makes a face at me but my vision is blurring as cum continues to flood my womb.

“Sienna, is there something you want to share with the class?” That’s my name. The teacher would never dare pick on Kimmy, even if she’s the one facing the wrong way.

“No, sir,” I try to say, but my womb has ballooned enough to press against my diaphragm. I just shake my head instead.

“Then why don’t you come up here and solve this equation.”

Weird that I’m always the one asked to solve shit. Almost as if the teacher is using the only girl who knows basic math to try and convince himself he’s not terrible at his job. It might backfire today: the smart girl’s brain is swimming in cum. I don’t know if I could solve 1+1 right now, but the most significant challenge might be walking twenty feet to the chalkboard.

I stand up, and the chair lifts with me as if glued to my butt. I push down on it, wiggling my butt like a dancing bee, but when the tip of the dildo plops loose out of my womb, I realize my cervix has gaped to hell, and the massive cock is the dam keeping a gallon of cum from running down my thighs, soaking my knee-high socks, and filling my shoes. The videos of me leaving a trail of cum to the front of the class despite walking like a penguin that needs to pee would go viral for all the ...

... wrong reasons, and Kimmy would win. Kimmy can’t win.

The teacher doesn’t suspect that I have a fake cock the size of his arm under my uniform but, every second I spend behind my desk erodes his patience, so I act quickly. I sit back down hard, hard enough to stuff the rubber testicles alongside the giant shaft in my pussy.

I don’t have time to cry about my broken cunt. I fiddle with the suction cup under my ass with every available finger. It’s like peeling a stubborn sticker, but I catch an edge... and I’m free. Free from the chair, not the feeling that I’m about to give birth to a table leg. My last action is to yank the tube away and pray that the pinnacle of dildo technology comes equipped with a check valve.

My skirt is caught on its waistband. My ass and a hint of the huge pussy plug visible to everyone behind me. But it doesn’t feel like a walk of shame. I’m walking proudly with a perfectly acceptable amount of limp. It doesn’t feel like I lost.

Looking back to make sure I haven’t sprung a leak as I’m about to cross the teacher’s desk, I notice my exposed ass and flick my skirt over the evidence. The cock, so unyielding a minute ago, now want to explode out of my loins, but I’ve made it to the board and keep my thighs locked tight.

The numbers and graph are a fuzzy abstract painting. The chalk in my hand won’t stop shaking. I let my math instinct take over a draw random lines on the board. The teacher shakes his said but then says: “Correct, as usual,” and ...