Hope you enjoy my take on 'Festival Fun'!

Quick disclaimer, all characters are over 18. This is set in the UK where the legal drinking age is 18

\***

“Did you bring it?” Josie asks, taking a swig of warm vodka - screwing her face up at the taste before passing the battered plastic Ribena bottle over to Becks.

“Of course I brought it…” I answer, rummaging in my bag. “The question you should be asking is whether I washed it…”

“Ewwww!!” The other two howl with laughter in our big yurt-style tent.

“You’re so fucking gross, Kat,” Becks chuckles – “Come on then, hand it over.”

Reaching for the bottle in the blonde’s outstretched hand, I exchange it for the prized trophy I pull from my bag with a flourish.

“Ta-da!”

“Oh dear God, I’d forgotten how hideous that thing is…” Josie murmurs, making a face.

She’s not wrong…

You can use as much gold paint and glitter as you like, but there’s no way to truly beautify a nine-inch dildo glued to an egg cup and plastic trophy base.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” I joke, unable to resist wrinkling my nose at the monstrosity Becks is turning over in her little hands. “Ladies, I present to you – drum roll please… The Cumslut Cup!”

“Jeez, Kat… what the fuck is wrong with us?” Josie says as she shakes her head and grins – long, dark hair falling over her shoulders. “I mean, I know this is a tradition, but don’t you think this just a teensy bit fucked up?”

Mouth wide, I reply with a mock gasp of shock, keen to defend our illustrious school’s long list of honour roll cumsluts.

“Now Josie, what could possibly be more noble than carrying on this great legacy?” Her eyes light up at my sarcastic tone. “Generations of school leavers coming to this hallowed ground to milk dry the balls of festival hotties?” I give her a wicked grin, taking a big slug of vodka. “Besides, I know how much you’ve been looking forward to beating your sister’s tally from last year.”

Almost as much as I have…

They both laugh at me, and I join in, happy as they are to finally be done with the brutal grind of A-Level revision and exams. Three pent-up boarding school hotties finally freed from our plaid-skirted, starchy prison – unleashed into a perfect English summer. Determined to hunt out the fittest blokes at Glastonbury and make up for lost time.

We go over the rules – though every year 13 student at Edmonton Priory pretty much knows them by heart when they leave the gates after that final exam. We’ve got until midnight tonight to fill our little screw-top specimen cups with ‘donations’. The only rule is that it has to have touched a participant’s body part first – face, mouth, boobs etc. Oh… but no creampies - at least not  since the fabled ‘07 cup, when six girls ended up pregnant and had no idea who the fathers were… Indulging in full sex isn’t against the rules, but it won’t help you win anymore - once it’s in, it’s in…

Last year, it had been Josie’s sister who’d emerged victorious, winning by a country mile. The chesty brunette had put her massive rack to good use, deep cleavage proving the perfect collecting funnel. Yeah, Katie had managed to brim her cup long before the deadline, beating off the competition easily… I eye Josie’s vast E-cup titties jealously, cursing her family’s blessing, but knowing I’ve got a good strategy to try and combat her natural gifts.

I certainly fancy my chances over Becks’, anyway. Our petite blonde friend is a perfect little doll, but shy as they come. I’ve no doubt she’ll start strong, but simply doesn’t have the heart to tell a guy she’s just drained that he needs to fuck off so she can find another. I’m willing to bet she’ll soon get bogged down by sleepy, post-orgasmic cuddles…

We change out of our travel clothes in the baking heat of the tent, passing round the contraband liquor we’ve managed to smuggle in and complementing each other’s outfits.

Josie’s playing to her strengths, tight yellow vest top presenting an obscene amount of pillowy-soft cleavage, little dark booty shorts helping to max out the skin on show.

Becks is playing it classy, a floaty cream-coloured linen sun dress with a deep neckline – flowers in her hair making her look like some elfin princess. Very pretty.

Me? Well, I’ve gone full-tilt St Trinian’s slut. My plaid school skirt’s waistband folded up to make it even shorter, crisp white shirt unbuttoned to show off the satin cups of my push-up bra. I guess I’m playing to my strengths too – ‘Centaur-girl’ figure perfectly suiting the blue-green plaid pleats bouncing off my fat ass. I may not be blessed with Josie’s giant boobs, but I’m fairly confident I can compete. This B-cup shorty with the forty-two inch hips has milked more than her fair share of hot, sticky loads this summer.

Of all of us, I think I’m the one who’s been looking forward to this the most. I fucking love jerking  a fat cock until it shoots ropes over my soft skin, lapping cum off glazed knuckles or licking it off my fingers. I adore the feel of getting glazed, watching a man come undone, vulnerable and desperate as he gives in to his lust and lashes sticky seed over my face or chest… Sometimes I think I was made for this.

“OK, ladies,” I say once we’re all changed into our festival gear. “Let the slutting commence!”

Giggling, we head out of the yurt into the scorching heat, dry grass crunching under thin sandals. We’ve agreed to stay fairly close in case someone gets themselves in trouble, phone on, check-in every hour. But make no mistake… it’s every woman for herself today.

*

Unlike the other two, I’m happy to take my time before getting started, hanging out on a hill overlooking the crowds near the Pyramid stage while the afternoon acts perform. It’s quite a sight, flags and banners flapping above the surging mass of bodies, heat haze rising from the sunbaked ground.

I fall in with a group dancing near one of the bars, mostly paired up but for a couple of lads who spend the next hour bringing me drinks and trying to chat me up. It’s a nice setting, red London Bus of the ‘Tea Stop’ bar looking oddly right where it’s plonked incongruously in the middle of this sunny Somerset farmland. The tourists are certainly lapping it up, line for cocktails at the serving hatch snaking back and out of sight.

I get a brief sighting of Becks while I’m sat on a picnic table necking twelve-quid double shots I haven’t paid for…

I’m immediately impressed by my little blonde friend’s boldness – certainly not what I was expecting. Rather than go after guys tentatively, one-by-one like I thought she might, she appears to have jumped straight in the deep end… Stood in the middle of what looks like a rugby team social, no fewer than six strapping dudes all hanging off her every word and eyeing up her tanned curves under that gorgeous sun dress..

Frowning enviously, I consider how much I’d love to watch her take them on all at once, tossed about and carry-fucked, pretty little holes stretched and flooded… Lucky bitch. Can’t imagine she’ll get much in her cup tonight, but it looks like she’s going to have the most fun by far.

I’m not sure why I’m so surprised. Shy she might be, but Becks has never struggled to get anyone she sets her sights on. Our recently suspended English tutor, Mr Harrison, can certainly attest to that...

I excuse myself from the two sweet boys whose generosity has got me nicely buzzed, ignoring their crestfallen looks and heading over to the bathroom queue. Daddy’s generous purchase of VIP tickets for my nineteenth last month means wristbands that let us use the ‘premium’ toilets… But in reality that just means getting to sit rather than hover. There’s certainly no getting round the wait… Or the smell.

Stood in line, I notice Josie working hard over by the merchandise stand, chatting with a grey-haired dad bod who can’t stop gawking at her tits. Clever girl… focusing on the hordes of millennial mid-life crisis candidates queuing for their ‘vintage’ Gn’R t-shirts… Watching these prospective divorcees swarming over my buxom friend makes me question my master plan for a minute, impressed by Josie’s ingenuity. None of these guys look like they’d last two minutes with their cock buried between her slutty pillows – I reckon she’ll be milking middle-aged balls all afternoon with this strategy. Maybe even winning this thing before the sun goes down…

Which means there’s no time to lose – I need to crack on and get started on my own devious little design for victory.

*

I walk a little way from the main stage, over to where I can see the red cross emblazoned on the medical tent close by. Now’s my moment – time to put all that expensive Edmonton drama tuition to good use.

Showtime…

I start with a little stagger, gazing up at the hot sun, wiping my forearm over my brow before stumbling and swaying. A couple are walking nearby, the woman anxiously pointing me out to her partner… Time to commit.

Slumping forward, I sink to my knees on the parched grass, holding my weight on my arms but trembling dramatically – like some newborn baby deer weakly trying to stand. The woman’s partner is at my side in a heartbeat, hand on my elbow trying to help me up until she joins him. Mumbling and slurring, I roll my eyes, doing my best to sell  my performance as ‘heat-stroke’ and not simply ‘drunk-teen’. It seems to be working, propped between them and slowly shuffled away in the direction towards the medical tent. Held at the elbow, I can hear the woman murmuring encouragement, clearly concerned. I feel kind of bad about selling my little ruse, but I need it to be believable…

The tent is cooler than outside, but not by much. My rescuers melt away once I’m handed off to a gorgeous looking guy in his late twenties with thick, dark hair and incredibly warm chestnut-coloured eyes. He’s wearing those cute dark-blue overalls that NHS paramedics wear, the type that look more like a fighter pilot’s jumpsuit than something befitting a medical professional. Not that I’m complaining though – I love a man in uniform, especially one who looks this good wearing it.

Distracted by perving, I struggle to keep up my pretense, remembering at the last minute to stumble and slump over while he helps towards a fold-out bed in a curtained cubicle. There’s a delicious moment when he grabs my hips to stop me falling, strong hands teasing my bare thighs where my skirt’s ridden up. He helps manoeuvre me onto the bed, clearly struggling to find appropriate places to touch me with all the skin on show. I give him a nice long flash of my white cotton panties, hoping he notices the small but spreading wet spot there – slumping to one side on the gurney and parting my legs before he helps sit me upright and covers my exposure with a blanket.

“Hi… Hello – can you understand me?” He asks, shining a light in my eyes and raising his voice in concern. Theatrically, I let my eyes roll as if I’m on the edge of consciousness, not hard given the near debilitating arousal I feel at having this beautiful man’s full lips just inches from mine. “My name’s Tim – I’m a junior doctor.” He shouts, “Can you tell me your name?”

“K-Kat…” I answer, chewing on the side of my tongue to make it sound like I can barely speak. Probably laying it on a bit thick at this point, but I do like to commit to a performance…

“OK, Kat – can you tell me if you’ve taken anything today. Any drugs?” The tenderness in his voice is lovely, and I can’t resist a proper look at him, finding myself gazing into those big brown eyes while he looks on anxiously. He smells fucking amazing too, sandalwood-spice scent drifting from his open collar, making me light-headed.

“Just shots…” I slur, melting a little at the relief in his expression. Enjoying the feel of his hand on my shoulder to keep me upright.

“Thank you, Kat – OK, I think you might be suffering in the heat. Maybe a bit dehydrated. We’re gonna get you on a drip and see if we can’t make you feel better…”

*

Tim checks in about a half hour later, swishing back the curtain to my cubicle. I put my phone back in my fanny pack, zipping it up quickly so he can’t see the sample cup and its white screw-top lid nestled inside…

“How’re you feeling?” He asks, warm smile doing very welcome things to an area of fizzing heat blooming under my belly button.

“Sooo much better, thanks.” I answer with a smile, running my hands over bare thighs to draw his attention. “Do you think I’ll be able to get back out there soon? I really want to catch my favourite band…”

“Well, let’s see…” Tim walks over and checks the half-filled IV bag to my side. “I really think we should get the rest of this in you first.”

Fill me with whatever you like, Dr Tim… Fingers, tongue, cock – I’ll take whatever you give me…

“Oh, OK…” I reply meekly. “Maybe you could stay here and hang out with me then? I was a little bored before you came in.”

“Sorry, no can do.” He chuckles. “This heat has really caught people out – we’ve got quite a few coming in now. But if you get lonely, you can take a walk – keep the bag close though. It’s on wheels so you can sort of drag it around. Just don’t go far – I’ll be back to check on you later.”

Perfect. Time to get to work…

*

I’m in the middle of delivering two flawless hand jobs to a lucky pair of lads in the cubicle next to mine before I hear the crowd outside going wild for Stefflon Don. The sound of cheering over thunderous, percussive beats that shiver through the tent helping to cover moans of pleasure from this awestruck pair... It really didn’t take much to get them going, just the sight of me bent over flashing my fat ass and dainty white French-cut panties enough to get them rock-hard and panting…

I let the cuter of the two finger me while I stroke his cock, staring into his eyes while I moan like a whore at his bedside, grinding over his knuckles.

My cunt’s a softly creaming mess right now… Tim’s tender attentions got me so fucking wet earlier… The dude fingering me probably thinks he’s god’s gift to women, believing he’s got me this leaky from just a few minutes rubbing and a half decent snog… Not that I care… I’m ready to do whatever it takes for this guy to spaff his load as fast as poss. If this little fantasy helps him fill my cup, then that’s all good with me…

Leaving these two blushing boys to recover, I quickly set about hunting out my third ‘doner’. Peeking through the gaps in curtained partitions until I find what I’m looking for.

My sexy ass sashaying into his cubicle puts a smile on the face of a sullen-looking bald guy with a sprained wrist. Short and stocky, he’s almost comically eager when I suggest he helps with my dirty challenge. The fact that he’s only a few inches taller than me presents an opportunity though, as I pull down his pants and stroke him while we stand face to face at his bedside. His thick, stubby cock is slick with pre cum when I trap it between my pillowy thighs and kiss him, rolling my hips to caress the stiff prick caught between my legs.

It’s almost pathetic how excited he is, groaning loudly against my mouth and groping my tits with his good hand while he drives his dick into the warm, slick softness between my thighs. He’s soon close, thrusting at an angle that smashes the fat head of his cock in against my puffy slit each time, edging me ever closer to what promises to be a titanic climax… When I’m finally ready to give in and release it, that is… None of these simps is worthy of seeing me cum.

The clean-up job after baldy is quite an undertaking, but he’s done me proud – jerking a substantial load between my thick thighs. Another two guys like him and I’ve got this in the bag – there’s no way the others are doing this well so early inn the game… I busy myself scraping his deposit off from between my legs and into my cup. Facing the outside of the tent to preserve some modesty while baldy gets dressed, I hear a familiar voice…

“What the fuck is this?! What’s going on in here?” I freeze at the sound of Tim’s angry voice behind me, hand tightening over the little cup between my fingers wondering if I can quickly screw the top back on and hide it before he sees what I’m doing… Then there’s a sigh of incredulous disgust from over my shoulder.

Looks like I’ve been rumbled…

Hope you enjoyed this, part 2 available here