It was a hot day outside, but the air at least was crisp and dry. Moving into
the dorms today would be a job, but at least it wasn't too humid. Sarah hated
the way the sweat clung to her on days like that, soaking through her clothes
and making her jeans feel like they were made out of lead. Today, as she glanced
at the cloudless blue sky and squinted, would be a good day, she thought. She
wiped her brow with the back of her hand and picked up the box she had rested,
teetering on the stone in front of the dorm. "Have you got it?" cried Hank,
rounding the corner of the building just behind her. Hank was the only friend of
hers from her high school who also been accepted to the same university, but
Sarah was glad enough to at least have him around. "Yeah, but could you get the
door for me?" she replied, nodding her head in the direction of the entryway
door just beyond her. Her dark brown hair cascaded down her forehead and flew
right into her face. "Pfew!" Sarah spat air, trying to blow her long hair back
away from her eyes. She knew she should have put it up before grabbing the first
box. "Got it," said Hank. He balanced the box he had on one knee, then opened
the door quickly and propped it open with his body. Once they had all of Sarah's
stuff inside, they could drive across campus and get his things put away too.
The sun felt good on his face, and Hank felt a small butterfly in his stomach.
Moving in was a half-traumatic, half-invigorating experience! As soon as he got
his parents out of town (after hitting them up for lunch, hopefully!), life
would really start taking off! He had already seen about ten girls he wouldn't
mind getting to know better, and this was just the first day. A little shiver of
anticipation ran down his spine. He was about 6 feet tall with dark blonde hair
and reasonably well-built. He had dated a little bit in high school; in fact, he
and Sarah had been an item for a couple months back in junior year. But college
was definitely . . . an opportunity. Hank came out of his daydream when Sarah
brushed by. Sarah passed him and entered the building, turning around to go up
the stairs to the second floor. Being 5'8", she didn't have any problem with all
the boxes that she and her parents had packed the previous week, but she was
still glad to have both them and Hank, not to mention Hank's parents, helping
out. Moving away from home was a little hard, but at least Hank was around, and
she could always get her folks to come pick her up for a weekend if she ever got
really desperate. Besides, her best friend Carrie was going to be going to
school about two hours away, and the phone bill wouldn't be too bad even if they
talked all the time. And then there were all the people she was going to meet
here, too. At the top of the stair Sarah turned and walked down the hallway,
stopping at the third door on the right. She laid the box to rest on the floor
next to the door and fished out her key from her pocket. Hank's dad entered the
hallway, immediately followed by her own parents. Apparently Hank was still
holding the door. Sarah smiled knowingly. That was one thing Hank was always
pretty good at, especially when they had been dating: the little common
courtesies. She slid the key into the lock and twisted to the right, pushed, and
stuck her heel at the base of the door to keep it ajar. "Oh, hi!" came a voice
from the room in a loud, friendly greeting. It must be either Sandy or Alison,
thought Sarah. "Hi! You must be Sarah," said the girl, propping the door open
herself and beaming in a wide, toothy smile. "I'm Alison. Sandy's out getting
her photo ID. Do you need some help?" "Hey Alison," said Sarah, smiling.
"Thanks, but I've already got five other helpers! If you could just get the
door, we'll be done in a hurry." As she entered the room, Sarah's parents and
the Millses followed, greeting Alison as they came, laded with Sarah's luggage
and boxes. Hank was the last one in. A drop of sweat had beaded up on the tip of
his nose, and Hank blew it off with a quick breath from his mouth. "Hi, I'm
Hank, Sarah's friend," he said, grinning at Alison. "Alison. Pleased to meet
you," she replied, focusing on his face. He was definitely handsome, she
thought, although not as huge as the football player who had helped her with her
things yesterday. She liked that, actually. The room was well-lit by the sun
streaming in through the windows, but it showed just how dusty the place was.
There were two rooms off the main room, one on either side and each with its own
door. "Sandy and I put our stuff in the room on the left," said Alison. "So the
other one's all yours." "Thanks," said Sarah. She was the first one to enter her
room, and she almost ran into the opposite wall once inside. It was definitely a
cozy arrangement! At least there was another window on the left, but only one.
She plopped the box down on the stained mattress in one corner of the small room
and quickly extricated herself so that the others could place their things
inside. "You can just pile stuff in the common room, if you guys want," called
Alison. "That's what we did." "Good idea," said Hank. He dumped his box and made
for the door again, smiling again as he passed Alison. She certainly wasn't too
bad, he thought. About 5'5" or so and pretty cute with those pale blue eyes and
reddish hair. Alison winked at him as he passed . . . or did she? Out in the
hall, Hank frowned as he skipped down the stairs. "Did I just imagine that?" he
muttered to himself. "Well it's not much, I suppose," said Sarah's mom, glancing
around the single room with a squint. "But at least you're in good company,
right?" She smiled at Alison and walked toward the door. "Darn straight," said
Alison. "We'll take good care of her, ma'am." "I'm sure you'll all have a
wonderful time here," replied Mrs. Kittredge as she entered the hallway. Her
husband followed her out. "I hope Hank's room is as nice as yours is," offered
Mr. Mills as he followed the Kittredges. "Oh, is he moving in too?" asked
Alison. "Yeah," said Sarah. "I think he said he's living in Forester, across
campus." "Wow, that's handy!" said Alison, in surprise. She turned to the
Millses. "He'll be welcome here anytime, in case he winds up in a real dump,"
she said, laughing. "You know, Sarah, Sandy and I were thinking we'd like to go
grab a couch and maybe some other furniture for the room sometime. They're
selling stuff along the main drag through campus." "We brought along a futon
already, but it's not really big when it's folded up. That's probably a good
idea," replied Sarah. "We should really get a nice, thick carpet or something."
Sarah fished a scrunchie out of her back pocket and bent over to gather her hair
up. They were alone in the room; the others had left to gather more of Sarah's
things. "Nice boyfriend," said Alison with awed inflection. "And he's going to
school here too? Geez! What'd you do in a past life? My boyfriend went to
college out on the West coast a year ago, and things didn't exactly work out."
"He's NOT my boyfriend," replied Sarah placidly, smoothing her hair back away
from her forehead. "Hank and I are just good friends. He and I went to high
school together, and he's a really great guy. We dated a little while a few
years ago." She scratched underneath a bra strap. "Oh," said Alison. "Great day
today, huh? I love this kind of weather. Hot, but not sticky hot." "Yeah, you're
lucky. Yesterday was pretty steamy. At least I had my bathing suit with me. I
had to wear it while moving in, I was sweating so much. I hear it might get hot
like that again soon, though." Alison moved to the windows and watched Hank walk
toward the entryway door below with an armful of boxes. "Well, I've got my suit
too," said Sarah. "I guess we'll be ready for it, right?" She walked toward the
door. "Yeah," answered Alison, thinking of other things. **** Chapter 2 ****
Hank juggled a small box in his left arm while trying to rub his eyes with his
right hand. He took the time to examine the spotless night sky above him. After
a full day of moving, both his stuff and Sarah's, he was pretty tired. He
stifled a chuckle when he recalled how his mother had offered to drive him back
home "for just one more night's sleep in his own bed" (like he would never get
back home again). His parents were still adjusting to an empty nest, because
without Hank or his older brother, their house would seem pretty empty. Hank
quickly pushed the nostalgia out of his head and reoriented himself to the
campus lay-out. He was looking for Sarah's dorm. Somehow, one of Sarah's boxes
had gotten in with his stuff, and he was concerned that Sarah would be needing
its contents sooner rather than later (the box was marked "clothing" but he
guessed it was probably small stuff like lingerie). He stifled a slight blush
that came with the realization he could be holding his ex-girlfriend's
underwear. Sarah's room was closed up, and as he entered the hall he worried no
one might be there and he'd have to make this trip again tomorrow. As he
approached, however, the muffled but unmistakable sound of a CD emanated from
behind her room's closed door. He knocked loudly, and he was pleased when
Sarah's roommate Alison answered. Hank wasn't 100% sure, but he could have sworn
this girl had winked at him earlier. She had also changed her clothes from
earlier that day. Now, Alison was wearing hot-pant length cut off jeans and a
flimsy white T-shirt with the word "Girl" in black letters across the front. He
guessed it was a concert T from a band he'd never heard of before. "Hey, you're
Sarah's friend Hank, right? Long time no see!" she joked opening the door wide
for him to enter. "Yeah, hi, ummm this is Sarah's; it got in with my boxes by
mistake and I thought she'd want it," he said apologetically. "Hold on a sec."
Alison went over and muted the stereo. "Okay, well, Sarah's not here. She went
off with Sandy to that freshman mixer. I thought it'd be lame, so I decided to
stay." Hank shifted awkwardly with the box cradled in both hands now. He had
lowered it so the box covered the growing swelling in his jeans. Alison's
reddish hair and her nicely proportioned frame were quite a turn-on. "I'll just,
ummm, put it into her single, okay?" Hank offered. Alison waved him into the
room with a big grin. Hank placed the box into the corner and noticed Sarah had
already put up a few pictures. He was somewhat surprised to see a picture from
their junior prom, when they had still been an item. He was pulled out of his
contemplation by a hand on his shoulder. "Hey," Alison asked, "is that you and
Sarah in high school?" Alison was looking over his right shoulder, her breath
gently beating against his back. "Yeah," Hank said softly and without
elaboration. Alison moved a bit closer to Hank's back. "You two were cute
together, what happened?" "Oh, it just didn't work out. You know, the old
'friends dating friends' thing." "That's a shame. You dating anyone now?" Hank
thought he was picking up some flirtatious vibes, but when he turned around, his
eyes nearly fell out of his head. Alison had removed the "Girl" shirt and was
now clad in just a blue bikini and her jean cut-offs were partially unzipped
revealing a matching blue bottom. "Uh, no. I was hoping I'd meet someone here at
school--" She moved a paper-width away from his chest and mewed "Well, you've
met someone now." Hank had to lean down a bit to make up the 5 inch height
differential, but he was rewarded for the slight effort with a deep, wet kiss.
Her tongue darted into and out of his mouth, and her hand began to rub the front
of his jeans. Her search ended when she shaped his bulging tool. As they
continued to lock lips, Alison guided him back to Sarah's bed. He obeyed and lay
back on his ex-girlfriend's half-made bed. Alison leaned in on top of him; her
hands had now thoroughly worked his cock into a frenzy through his jeans. She
undid the catch at the top of his jeans and slid his zipper toward his socks.
His bulging baton tent-poled his plaid boxer until she mercifully unleashed it
into the air of the room. Her hands now circled his cock circumference and
pumped like a piston. Hank was out of his mind. His hands reached around her
back and untied her bikini top. It fell light onto his chest. Hank moved his
hands so they were between him and Alison and stole a glance at her breasts.
They hung low, with hard little pink nipples. He groped her tit spheres with
mounting excitement as she slid her hands over his erect shaft. "Ummmmm. Ugggg."
Alison gurgled. She was responding to a squeeze of her sensitive red nubs. Hank
could tell he was being driven by an expert. She worked his glans between her
thumb and forefinger and spread his pre-cum along the shaft for lubrication.
Just as he felt his balls tingle signaling an imminent release, she released his
johnson and sat back on the bed. Alison finished the removal of her threadbare
jean shorts, and then tossed off her blue bikini bottom. Hank quickly pulled off
his shirt, boxers and jeans, just to make things equal. Their bodies meshed back
together. Hank reached down and began to finger Alison's moist tunnel. She
rewarded him with a good long squeeze of his penis. He began to pump his index
finger into well-lubricated her love basket, while his thumb sawed her engorged
clittie. Her moans of pleasure told him he was hitting all the right spots. With
startling ferociousness, Alison shifted her weight and sank her face into Hank's
crotch. He had to strain a bit to keep up with her movements, but he nearly lost
consciousness when her mouth hit his cock. She concentrated her first kisses
onto the very tip, pushing her tongue tip into his penile slit and rimming the
whole glans with admirable precision. Hank nearly blew his load right then and
there, for he had never received a blow like this. In fact, he had only received
a blow once before, from Laurie after the senior prom, but she hadn't been into
it and ended up just jacking him off in the back seat of his Taurus. Alison,
however, was *really* into it. She worked her way down the shaft, licking the
sensitive skin along the underside of his shaft and occasionally teasing the
tingling flesh with her front teeth. Hank reciprocated as best he could by
adding his middle finger to his index finger's invasion of her steaming hot
vaginal slit. His finger pumping matched her frenetic licking until they both
were about to let loose. Hank was the first to succumb. His tool jumped and spat
its juices into her throat. Alison swallowed like a trooper and even managed to
suction a little more of his seed out of his dwindling stalk. His fingers
continued their assault on her fuck tunnel. She released her mouth from his cock
and moaned. He jammed a third finger into her slit, and she went off like a
firecracker. "Uggg, ugg, ohhhhh, uggg, ohhhh, UHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" The force of
her orgasm drove her into Hank's chest. He gently stroked her hair, still
basking in the rush of feeling from the incredible blow job she had just
administered to his penis. She moved over to his side and kissed him on the
cheek. "Sarah doesn't know what she's missing, " Alison cooed into his ear. ****
Chapter 3 Hank lay staring at his ex-girlfriend's ceiling. Alison had recovered
first, and was now striding confidently out of the room, going to take a shower.
(The girls were lucky enough to have a bathroom in their room.) Her eyes were
half-closed, and she had a serene, sly smile on her face; as Hank's eyes
followed her to the door, the swaying in her creamy white buttocks, firm yet
feminine, and the gentle, playful jiggling of her perky, freckled breasts
brought back the tingling in his exhausted pipe. But he continued to lay there,
wanting to savor the feeling and think things through. Without getting up, he
glanced around the room. Sarah's room was decorated with posters of Picasso and
Dali prints, a picture of some TV hunk (a silly leftover from high school
crushes, he though to himself with a wry smile), and the picture of them from
the prom. This time he noticed a smaller picture stuck into the frame of the
prom picture, which he hadn't noticed before. It was a picture of Chloe, Sarah's
beguiling best friend from high school. Hank wondered to himself where Chloe was
now; she had left half-way through senior year under mysterious circumstances.
Hank recalled with another smile how the rumors had developed around her
departure: she did drugs; she was caught with the vice-principal on top and his
son, the captain of the football team, underneath; she was caught giving an
inappropriate education to a sixth-grade girl in the girl's room. Ridiculous.
But what if some of them had been true? he mused. All he really remembered about
Chloe was that she and Sarah had been close. Real close - inseparable; it seemed
to Hank as if they could comminucate with a glance. He often remembered the two
of them disappearing together at parties, leaving him alone; to talk about him,
he had assumed at the time. Now he wondered about the true nature of Sarah and
Chloe's relationship. Sarah said she and Chloe had always enjoyed walking home
together through out grade school, and sleeping over at each other's houses when
they were younger. Sarah had never been quite as happy since Chloe had left. And
Sarah had often commented about Chloe's beauty, and teased Hank that, if Chloe
were a man, that Sarah would dump Hank for her. And she had been beautiful -
Hank recalled how her T-shirts would barely fit around her spherical breasts,
with the dark nipples threatening to burst through the material. He admitted to
himself that, even while going out with Sarah, he had many times fantasized
running his tongue up and down her tawny, flawless skin, licking her from head
to foot like a postage stamp, and when she was properly moistened, fastening her
envelope closed around his love letter. He looked down and realized that he was
starting to stiffen up again, a single drop of seed left over from his previous
encounter starting to appear at the tip. He started to get up off the bed to
find a Kleenex, when he froze at the sound of the door. Sarah was coming in the
door, sighing with exhaustion but humming softly to herself. The sound of the
shower would have drowned out the slight creaking of the floorboards had he
dared to move; but he sat there terrified. Would she walk into her own room to
find her ex-boyfriend standing in front of her bed, naked, semi-aroused, staring
at a picture of her ex-best friend and dripping spooge onto her throw rug? He
stood there in terror for a few minutes, not relaxing until he heard to step
into the bathroom. He slowly walked to the door of her room and peeked around
the corner. There were three sweaty T-shirts on the floor - Alison's, Sarah's,
and a third. The third belonged to a tall black woman, probably Sandy, who had
draped herself across the couch. She was not wearing a bra; droplets of sweat
gleamed on her small but firm breasts and on her little cone-shaped nipples, and
on her incredibly long, slim ebony torso and legs. Just then Sarah came out of
the bathroom. She was not only topless but had stripped down to her panties.
Hank had not heard her and Alison exchanging friendly banter in the bathroom;
perhaps Sarah had slipped in and out unnoticed. Now Sarah sidled sexily up to
Sandy, coming to rest on the couch next to Sandy's head. Her left hand gently
stroked Sandy's forehead. "C'mon, let's get to my room and close the door before
my roommate comes out of the shower," she whispered seductively. "Mmm, I don't
know if I can wait that long, baby," cooed Sandy. She ran her long fingers up
Sarah's thigh to her crotch and slipped her hand under Sarah's panties. Sarah
squeezed her eyes shut and gasped. "But we only just met," she murmured between
breaths. "But it's been so long since I-" her last words were cut off by another
gasp; with the agility of a veteran, Sandy had flipped on her stomach, wrapped
one of Sarah's legs around the other side of her head. Sandy's head was bobbing
up and down, and she was making slurping, gutteral noises. Sarah's eyes were
still squeezed shut, and she was whimpering rhythmically. Hank remembered that
whimper well, and also remembered the way that Sarah would start to fondle
herself when she was really excited, like she was doing now: cupping her own
breasts and stroking forward to pinch her own nipples, faster and faster,
stopping now and then to reach down to her crotch, lubricating her hands with a
mixture of Sandy's saliva and her own now freely flowing pussy juice. Hank
remembered that Sarah could get very wet, but had never realized just how soaked
she could get, judging by the state of the throw pillow that fell out from under
her ass. Hank was getting very absorbed in the coracious feasting of Sandy, her
dark, firm ass bobbing in front of his vision. Suddenly he was overcome by the
desire to climb on top of her and ride her like a big black greyhound bitch. In
fact he was so absorbed, he didn't realize he was standing in the doorway until
Alison came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. "Sarah!" exclaimed Alison.
"Alison?!" shouted Sarah. Her eyes popped open. "HANK?!" "Mmph?" said Sandy,
intent on her work. "Sarah!" Hank stammered. "Hank!" gasped Alison. "Alison. .
." Hank continued to stammer. "Sandy?" Alison asked, peering over the edge of
the couch. "Mmph!" said Sandy. "Ohhhhhhh, FUCK!!" cried Sarah, looking first at
Hank, then at Alison, then quickly at Hank again, then even more quickly at
Sandy. Scrambling wildly, she slid out from underneath her lesbian lick-sister
like a teenager about to shoot off without a rubber. "Fuck fuck fuck!!!" She was
naked as a jaybird; her panties were somewhere in a corner of the room now, and
she felt guiltily exposed to the entire world. Her fucking ex-boyfriend was
naked, she was naked, Sandy was naked, everybody was just fucking naked, and it
was all so fucking wrong! Her head was still spinning from that sour crap that
Sandy had made her drink out of her canteen at the freshman mixer. "Sarah,
wait!" called Alison, still standing in the bathroom doorway. She held a
toothbrush clamped between the thumb and forefinger of her waving hand, and the
toothpaste coated the sides of her mouth and made her voice funny and garbled.
She dropped the toothbrush suddenly when the bath towel she was wearing promptly
fell off. Her breasts fell out and bobbed noticeably as she quickly stooped to
catch the towel around herself again. The incredible blush, having started on
her nose and slightly freckled cheeks, spread like wildfire to the tops of those
incredible boobs, Hank noticed. His dick got even harder when she covered up
again. Suddenly he remembered where he was and clumsily tried to obscure his
rager with both hands. Sarah was at the hallway door in a flash, having snatched
her raincoat off the floor near the couch and flung it over her body. Tears were
streaming down her cheeks and her eyes turned almost as red as Alison's blush.
What the hell was all this? She was getting a blow from HER ROOMMATE, and her
fucking ex-boyfriend was naked IN HER ROOM for no apparent reason besides
fucking her OTHER roommate! "God, what the hell am I doing?!" she groaned, to no
one but herself. She could have been referring to her hasty egress as well as to
the recent escapades; she poked both arms though the coat, tits bouncing against
her upper arms and juices streaming down her legs faster than the tears coated
her cheeks, pushed open the door, and was gone down the hall. All three of them
heard the entryway door being shoved open and the hurried but muffled footfalls
(she hadn't bothered to grab any shoes) leading off into the night. "Oh, shit!"
said Alison, a worried frown clouding her countenance. She looked at Hank, who
had this incredibly sheepish look on his face, which sort of detracted from the
total package. She felt a pulling sensation inside her again, looking at his
shoulders, his legs, his hips, and his cupped hands and the halo of pubic hair
around them. But the face he had on definitely cooled her off. He knew. And he
didn't feel too great about it either right now. Alison looked back at Sandy,
who had sat up on the sofa and held the knuckles of her right hand to her
forehead, resting her elbow on the arm of the couch. She was still brazenly
naked, and although she had plainly wiped Sarah's juices off her mouth, there
was a faint sheen of sweat across her breasts and neck, and her breathing was
irregular. She looked up and wrinkled her brow at Alison, who tied the towel
more tightly around her body. "Shit is right, sister," said Sandy. A stupid,
shit-eating grin came across her face and she laughed lightly. "Aw, shit," she
muttered, smiling. Snapping out of it, Hank grabbed his plaid boxers off the
floor in Sarah's room and whipped them on, almost falling over when his heel
caught on the crotch. He almost thought he heard threads tearing. He had to grab
his dick and try to squeeze the blood out of it a little before burying it in
the shorts; he had been so rock-hard that it would have flopped right out for
all to see, otherwise. He darted back into the main room. "I'll go get her," he
said, looking at Alison intently. He felt this incredible pang of guilt, this
post-orgasmic "you-did-it-and-you-weren't-supposed-to" pang of guilt, which
overwhelmed at least temporarily his arousal. "No," replied Alison, walking
quickly toward him. She passed him and retreated into Sarah's room. "I'd better
do it. God only knows what she'd do to you. God only knows what she thinks of
you right now." Alison picked up a few articles of her own clothing off the
floor and hastily threw them on Sarah's bed. The towel came off, and she bent
over to grab her jeans. Hank stole a look at her firm, ripe ass and the sides of
her breasts, which were the only parts showing. He looked away, back into the
main room, and Sandy rose from the couch and looked toward him. "Look, don't
worry about it. It's probably my fault anyway," said Sandy, a wry smile on her
face. She wrinkled her brow and smoothed back her hair, completely oblivious,
apparently, to the fact that she was completely nude. As her arms moved up and
back, Hank saw her breasts, 34-B's definitely, slowly stretch from slightly
sagging, to round, then pulled up at the sides, and then sort of squared off in
front of the armpits as both arms leaned into a stretch behind her. Sandy shut
her eyes and crunched her eyebrows, and then she quickly opened her eyes widely
and looked straight at Hank. The effect was mesmerizing. Her dark brown nipples,
hard and erect in the coolness of the main room, were unlike any Hank had ever
seen before, and it wasn't just the color. She kept her gorgeous eyes fixated on
him as she bent and picked up her shirt. Her breasts almost stayed completely
still, they were so firm and tight. In a simple, graceful move, Sandy slipped
the T-shirt over her head and pulled it down just past her cunt. "Yeah, what's
up with that?" asked Alison, returning from Sarah's bedroom with the "Girl"
shirt scrunched up in both hands over her head. Hank caught one last glimpse of
her bouncing breasts as she moved quickly into the room again before "Girl"
covered them up defiantly once again. Her blush had faded, and now her eyes were
tightened slightly in slits as she looked at Sandy, as if trying to comprehend.
"Look, I just gave her a little booze at the mixer, we started dancing in a big
group, and she kissed me," said Sandy, closing her eyes tightly while she said
the words. When she opened them again, they were staring straight at Alison.
"It's weird, but she got all kooked-up on me, and she just leaned in and planted
a pretty good one right on my lips." Alison looked at Hank. "Heck, it's been a
while since we went out," he offered, shrugging. "Anything can happen in time.
She never told me about anything . . . like that." He shot a glance back toward
Sandy and grinned quickly, stupidly. "Hurm." Suddenly he felt really, really
dumb. "Well, whichever one it is --- pissed at you, pissed at me and him,"
sighed Alison, "I guess I'll find out soon enough." She grabbed a torn jean
jacket off a chair just inside her own bedroom and walked toward the hallway.
"Just tell the cops it's me if they find somebody at the bottom of the lake with
her eyes clawed out." With a crooked smile toward Hank first and then Sandy, she
left. "Be good, Henry!" she cried from the stairwell, just before the door to
the hallway swung shut. Her voice carried with it a note of distinct sarcasm,
and Hank wondered how to take it, suddenly completely befuddled at the whole
situation. He left his position at the entrance to Sarah's bedroom and slumped
into the couch, deep in thought. He wrinkled his nose and ran a hand through his
hair, staring out the window into the night. In front of him, Sandy gracefully
fished her pants off the floor and slipped them on, buckling only the bottom of
two belts on her slacks and leaving the fly open. "So who the hell are you,
besides 'Henry'?" sniped Sandy in a tone that seemed to him to be neither
playful nor fully sarcastic. She brushed her hair back with both hands again in
the same manner as before, except this time Hank wasn't watching. Just before
she finished the motion he suddenly remembered the image of her bountiful tits
stretching and moving, and he looked at her quickly with a sad, pleading,
hopeful feeling. Suddenly he felt isolated and alone and decidedly horny in a
self-pitying sort of way. He caught just the tail part of her motion, but he
could still see the outline of her right breast pushed tightly against the
slightly damp T-shirt, he could still see the outline of one divinely engorged
nipple. "Yo. Romeo. Is there anything I should know about you, I said." Sandy
looked at him intently, bending over and holding her knees in front of him.
"Sarah know you, or something? You dated?" "Yeah. Shit," replied Hank. He stared
at his kneecaps and sank back further into the couch. "We were pretty hot and
heavy for-" A moment of silence intervened. "We . . ." He frowned. "Well, we
went out for a while. I guess neither one of us really knew what we were doing.
We kinda fooled around a little bit, and we kinda fucked things up pretty good,
I guess." "Did you get her drunk and did she kiss you and then- . . ?" Sandy was
grinning again. Her teeth were perfect. Hank felt the backs of his own teeth
with his tongue almost involuntarily, just after seeing hers. They looked so
smooth. Sandy pushed the hair out of her eyes again, but this time only with one
hand and while bending over. Her breasts hung against the shirt, but Hank
couldn't see down the neck. Her hair, done in an assortment of narrow braids,
clicked together at the ends where little yellow clasps kept the thin braids
from falling out. The sound was soothing somehow. "I think we were both each
other's firsts," replied Hank. "But no, I don't think I got her drunk that
time." He smiled. "That came later, when I was debating whether or not to try
and get her back. I don't think she holds alcohol too well. She just got really
silly after a while." "So she was in love with you?" Sandy straightened herself
out and sat down at the other end of the couch, reclining against the arm and
looking right at him. "I dunno. Maybe." Hank scratched himself through his
boxers. He had sank deep enough into the sofa that his bare skin didn't feel too
cold in the now-chilly room. "You said it was her first time," said Sandy in a
low voice. "Doesn't everyone love the first one?" "I guess," replied Hank. He
was starting to feel a little more relaxed now. Out of the back of his active
memory he pulled out a few fleeting glimpses of naked Sarah, lounging on top of
a letter jacket in that back seat of the Taurus. Damn, that was a good car. And
Sarah was great fun, even if it was difficult and weird the first time. He
remembered the look on her face. It was like utter exhaustion combined with
flaming intensity. He remembered the depth of her breathing, how she filled her
lungs and emptied them like they were only good for a little while longer and
she wanted to get her money's worth out of them. Hank remembered her flattened
breasts, his fingers sliding over the chilled flesh as he knelt on the
floorboard and planted slow kisses all over her face and neck and chest. "Didn't
YOU love your first one?" Sandy slid nearer to him. "Yes," said Hank in a
whisper after a long pause. Sarah was moaning underneath him, pulling his face
closer to kiss his lips. "Remember how it felt?" Her right hand was on his knee.
Suddenly the spell was broken and Hank turned his head suddenly toward Sandy.
"Yeah," he said. "I remember all of it." He gazed quizzically at her; his peter
had started a slight climb with the memories, but he was feeling very
ill-at-ease. There was something about Sandy that really put him on edge.
"Memories are the best things, you know," whispered Sandy. "You have them
forever. That's why you have to make them GOOD memories. And that's why you have
to really have to WORK to make them good memories." She glanced all around his
face, her eyes darted from his eyes to his mouth, and then to his hair, and then
back to his eyes, shifting between them rapidly. Suddenly Hank felt his stomach
turn inside out, and the blood rushed out of his thighs. He could feel his penis
swell uncontrollably, and it poked the front of his boxers. With one quick
motion he shoved it back down between his legs before it burst out through the
whiz-hole. He should have put on his jeans. "Baby," sighed Sandy, furrowing her
brow teasingly, "have you got yourself all hot and bothered?" She smiled warmly
and looked down at his crotch, then back up at his face. "Don't make fun,"
grumbled Hank, crossing his arms in front of him and turning away. His dick
wanted to jump out and proclaim its ardent lust for Sandy and her tight boobs,
beautiful teeth, and enchanting eyes, but he knew she was just playing around
with him. "Hey now," cried Sandy, giving his leg a little shove and withdrawing
her hand. "What, do you think I'm a lesbian? You think I don't like guys?" Hank
paused, his mouth open. She didn't let him interject. "Look," she scolded,
rising. "Just 'cause I like girls too doesn't mean I don't like dicks, asshole!"
She glared at him reprovingly, then straightened her back and looked down at him
with a closed-lip smile. "I think you need convincing." Things began to move in
the same kind of slow-motion that occurs whenever adrenaline rushes to your
brain before an argument or a fight, or in the midst of a nasty accident that
you see happening just before you can't possibly stop it. Hank's brow began to
tremble as he looked up toward Sandy. She pulled her hair back from her head
just as she had done twice before, and his eyes fell to her chest. Minutes
passed, it seemed. Her breasts rose and stretched through the fabric, and Hank
looked back at her face, which maintained the closed-lip smile, but he saw a
sparkle in her eyes. She held her arms above her head for an infinity and took a
deep breath, letting it sigh out of her lungs. She pursed her lips, and their
fullness, already shocking, was enhanced even more. He wanted to kiss those lips
so badly, wanted to feel them kissing him, lingering over his face, his neck,
his chest, his belly, his penis. "Take it off. I want to see how much you want
this," said Sandy, still stretching her arms back behind her head, as she
glanced toward his crotch and then back up to his face. She shook her head and
her hair clacked together entrancingly. Hank swallowed incredibly hard and
grabbed his shorts, working them quickly off his hips and down to the ground.
His mouth dry, he looked down at his groin and saw his dick beating slowly to
the rhythm of his heart, rising quickly into the air. He looked back at her and
felt like he had lost his power of speech, the muscles in his face still
quivering in heightened arousal. He hadn't even felt this turned on with Alison!
Sandy winked at him, smiled a wide, toothy smile, and pulled the T-shirt up and
over her head. As the fabric left her body, it clung to her breasts and pulled
them quickly up, and they snapped back into place like rubber chew-toys and
jiggled slightly. Hank felt saliva re-enter his mouth and control return to his
face, and he breathed deeply and let it out in pants. Somehow having seen them
confined beneath the shirt, Hank appreciated her breasts a great deal more now,
as Sandy grinned and stretched her arms for him again. They were perfectly
shaped for her body, not too big or too small, and the graceful lines describing
the slopes of the undersides of her breasts back to her armpits were exquisitely
formed. While stretching, she suddenly leaned forward and almost hit him right
in the face with her chest, bringing her arms back around and taking his head in
both hands. She growled in his left ear and bit it almost too hard, and he sat
up away from the back of the couch, pushing her up with him. Her knees came
around on either side of his hips, and his hands encircled her body and rubbed
the flesh on her back. His fingers fanned out and stroked her warm, supple skin,
feeling the ridges of her spine and following the upside-down ledges of her
shoulder blades down and around to the spaces just behind and to the side of her
tits. Her tongue splashed all over his ear, and her hot breath lit him up. Hank
slid his hands, thumbs first, to her chest and enclosed both breasts in his
fingers. His thumbs and second fingers squeezed and pinched her nipples,
floating over the tight, hard flesh and then retreating to the skin around the
aureole. Her pants-covered crotch rubbed back and forth against his dick, which
had by now filled up completely and stood at attention. She crushed and mashed
his lusty tool, first pushing it back against his belly, then forward and down
to his thighs. Sandy's lips found his, and she bit his lower lip and pulled it
slightly away from his jaw. Hank's hand left her boobs and slid down to her
butt, where he felt the pocket ridges and seams catch at his fingernails. He
slammed her ass harder onto his crotch with each rocking motion she made,
intensifying the brutal treatment his willing member was receiving. It was
getting beat up, and he fucking loved it. Sandy slipped down to his neck and
sucked and bit until Hank felt the blood rush in hot, itching torrents to the
spot where she labored. Her hot breath smoked over his skin, and he felt
delirious with lust. Sandy slipped her knees back and down to the floor, and she
grabbed his penis in both hands, stroking it between her palms. Hank groaned and
Sandy bent forward, slipping his dick between her breasts and pressing it into
her modest cleavage, angled up so that the sensitive underside was rubbing
against her skin the most. She paused and held his peter motionless, staring at
him with her mouth slightly open and her breathing deep but regular. "Ahh,"
cried Hank, shivering in delight and at the sudden coolness he was experiencing
in her absence. He felt his penis throb, and a small stream of spunk pushed out
the end and ran down. "Got a condom?" asked Sandy. She began to rub his dick
with one hand while keeping it flat against her chest with the other. He looked
down at her and swore that her breasts had swollen by a little amount; when she
rubbed him, they swayed back and forth as if they were heavier, filled with
blood. He was mesmerized by their motion and had to concentrate when he suddenly
felt an internal pulling in his dick. With relief, he headed off the ejaculation
and sighed. Suddenly he remembered the question. "Fuck!" he said, blowing air in
exasperation. "I don't carry one with me." He felt the blood stagnate and begin
slowly to leave his penis. "Damn it. Of course YOU'RE not on the pill." "Nope,"
she replied. She looked down and felt the rigidity of his shaft lessen slightly;
it bent further back as she hugged it to her chest. "Hey hey hey, baby," she
sang, pulling her eyebrows up and together. "Don't you go anywhere on me. I
thought for sure Ali'd have given you an extra." "Huh?" "She's got some fucking
condoms, Hank! Didn't you use one before?" "Oh." Suddenly his mind was racing.
"Wait, she TOLD me she was on the pill!" "Maybe. I don't know anything about
it." Sandy let Hank's penis fall and got up, breasts swaying ever so slightly.
"All's I know is that she had a whole box of 'em right in her closet, and she
told me about 'em, in case I ever needed one or something. I kinda thought she
was bragging. I guess not." Hank heard her rummaging through Alison's closet.
His dick, while still thick, had dwindled in size a little. His thought made it
shrink up even more. "What the hell am I doing?" he muttered to himself.
"Christ." He stood up and stared at the floor in front of Sarah's room, standing
in front of the couch. "God, this is ridiculous." Returning from the room with a
foil square in one hand, Sandy saw the look on his face. She decided to ignore
it, instead circling around behind him and insinuating both arms under his. She
traced circles on his chest with one edge of the condom and slowly rubbed her
breasts against his back. "I got one. We're OK," she mewed in his ear. Shaking
her head back, her locks clacked together again. Hank was filled with
conflicting thoughts. He had suddenly felt so base, so completely filthy. What
if Alison really WASN'T on the fucking pill, anyway? Jesus, he just fucked her.
Just fucked her. And then Sarah walked in, and then it all went straight to
hell. And now, Sandy. And- "What do I have to do, beg?" whispered Sandy, sensing
some indecision. Hank felt the points of her nipples pressing into his back. He
felt the exact spots of the contact, and she began to run her fingernails up and
down his chest, down all the way to his crotch and back up again. He closed his
eyes and tried to control his thoughts. His hands slowly met hers and covered
them on their circulating paths around his body. Her right hand stole down to
his balls and cupped them, and the tingling spread from his groin all the way up
his spine and burst into his head, eliciting a shiver. Sandy's left hand joined
her right and curled around his expanding penis, slowly jacking up and down on
the hot rod. The condom must have gone into a pants pocket or something. Hank's
hands left the backs of hers and traveled back behind his head, where he grasped
hers and bent around to find her lips. He opened his mouth and met hers in an
engaging kiss that soon evolved into some major frenching. Sandy smacked her
lips against his and continued to pull on his dick until he completely lost
control and spun around in place, grabbing both breasts and savagely fondling
them. She groaned loudly but was almost completely muffled by his mouth. Her
hands ran up and down her back as he continued stroking her breasts and palming
the nipples, pushing her tits apart, then together, then both up. When he
lowered his head to her chest and tried to suck in her left nipple, she pushed
him away and backed toward the couch. She stood smirking, biting her lower lip.
She ran her hands through her hair AGAIN, and Hank almost passed out. His dick
swelled even higher as he watched her breasts get pulled up and then out again.
"Get in that fucking bedroom, asshole," growled Sandy in mid-stroke, her arms
still extended above her head. Hank's knees were about to buckle beneath him, so
he slowly turned around and looked into the dark bedroom that was Sandy's and
Alison's. He started to shuffle inside, looking over his shoulder at Sandy, who
kept her arms raised while following him, and then dropped them quickly. Hank
stepped through and into the darkness, and Sandy switched on the light and
quickly closed the bedroom door. "Get on the bed," she commanded, pointing to
the bed just to the left of the door. The other one must be Alison's. Hank lied
down obediently, his raging hard-on pointing straight up into the air. Sandy
slipped the condom packet out of her back pocket, threw it on his chest, and
then fumbled with the fastened belt buckle on her pants. Hank picked up the foil
and looked at it, almost completely missing the show in front of him. Sandy had
undone her pants, and she pulled them off her hips and let them slump to the
floor. Naked, she was breathtaking in the clear light of the bedroom, and he
gasped, but she didn't let him have a good look. The vision of her smooth, brown
body with its beautiful curves, dark hair on her mound, and hair in braids
reaching past her shoulders imprinted itself in his brain. He swallowed hard
again. She quickly kneeled over him, grabbed his dick and held it right in front
of her cunt, which was already dribbling juices down one thigh. "Gimme that
thing," she said, nodding at the foil wrapper. Hank fumbled with the package and
finally tore it open, handing the rolled-up rubber to her. She jacked him
quickly, running her fingers up and down his tube, and her breasts heaved. When
she placed the roll on the head of his dick, Hank thought he'd come right then
and there, and he had to gulp air for control. She rolled the condom down his
dick and pulled the tip out a little when she was done, just like you're
supposed to. He was about to say something, having fought off another orgasm,
when she suddenly reared up and slipped his condom-clad dick right into her
cunt. He watched it disappear into her depths, and his breath caught. He heard
the wrinkle of the latex as his penis slid inside. She was so hot, he thought he
wouldn't be able to last more than a minute. Sandy bent forward in a quick
motion and hit the pillow on either sides of his head with her elbows. Her face
hovered slightly above his. Her dark brown eyes swallowed him up, and he stared
deeply into them. "Relax," she sighed, shaking her head. "Let me do the work."
She smiled and began a long, slow grind. The pleasure of the motion boiled up in
her tunnel, and as she reached the base of his dick, her clitoris was forced
back into her pubic bone and rubbed between it and his soft flesh. "Mmmmmmm,"
moaned Sandy, closing her eyes and mashing her breasts against his chest. Hank
moved his hands up to her ass, and he stroked and fondled both cheeks lovingly.
When she pulled herself back off his penis, he let up on the pressure, and when
she thrust forward again, he pushed her further down onto his dick. The feeling
was sensational; his penis was buried in the tightest, warmest, smoothest place
he thought he'd ever felt, and the condom was actually helping him from shooting
off. "Uhhhhh," grunted Sandy, sliding her pelvis up and then back down again
more quickly than before. "Mmmmh!" She bit her lip and hovered about a foot from
his face. "Damn," she moaned, increasing the speed with which she sheathed and
unsheathed his penis in her vagina. Her clitoris felt like it was the size of a
plum, it was so engorged now. When she started to pick up speed, Hank shifted
his hands from her butt to her tits. They swayed up and down ever so slightly
with the fucking, and he lazily stroked them in and out of reach as they went up
and away from him and then back down again with her movements. He took a deep
breath, closed his eyes, and opened them again, staring right into hers. He
grabbed her nipples and pinched them. She closed her eyes for a second but
opened them again, still not looking at him. He pinched again, harder, and she
moaned and closed her eyes, but still kept her gaze fixated on some object to
his left and over his shoulder. He used his fingernails, and he literally gouged
her nipples, starting softly and then building the pressure until her moan grew
into a low wail. She shoved her pelvis onto him, and he felt the tightness
increase and his penis throb in response. She was looking straight into his eyes
now, and her motions slowed but picked up tremendously in intensity. It was like
she was taking him in all the way up to his butt or something. He felt like his
whole body was a giant piston inside her cunt, and he suddenly had to
concentrate on something else to keep from spraying. Hank scrunched up his lower
body, trying to slide his head down to her chest, and she obliged him, riding
higher up and bending his dick flatter against his belly. His mouth found her
nipple, and he bit her harder than he intended to. The pulling sensation was
reaching a critical level, and he lost himself in passion. Sandy cried out in
ecstasy and unexpectedly shifted into double-time on his dick. Pumping like a
mad dog, she heaved her pelvis up and down on him in such a fashion that his
breath was crushed out of him, and he wheezed on her breasts while he continued
to chew and lick her right nipple. She quickly forced his other hand over to her
left nipple, and he began to twist and pull it as well. They were drenched in
sweat, and Sandy was near exploding. The perspiration dribbled off her forehead
and onto the pillow directly below her. Her pubic bone dug into the soft flesh
above his dick, and he almost cried out in pain as her thrusts became more and
more powerful. Yet the pain somehow turned him on so much that his dick swelled
and pulsed inside her tight cunt. "Uhhhhhhh, OhhhhHHHHH!!!!!" cried Sandy,
intensifying her efforts to an incredible degree. The whole bed was shaking and
creaking, and Hank could barely manage a breath in between being squished by her
pistoning body. Her breasts jiggled back and forth, her nipples almost felt as
hard as his teeth, and her clit had sunk back away from her hole. "OHHHH!!" she
bawled after a deep breath, and her thrusts gradually lost their strength. Hank
felt his entire body was wet; his crotch felt like it was underwater, and her
cunt felt entirely new. It was suddenly looser, and his dick continued to sway
in and out and around inside. He backed off from her nipples with his teeth and
merely sucked them between lip and tongue and made little circles. She had come,
and come buckets, and his penis felt like it was going to explode. "Need . . .
something . . . else?" gasped Sandy, riding out the last of her orgasm atop his
thrusting peter. Her face was limp, like the rest of her body, but she suddenly
came back to life and began to rub her crotch against his again, but with less
vigor. "Ah," groaned Hank. "Uh." He buried his face in her cleavage, and she
reached down and clamped her breasts around his face. Sandy pushed herself onto
him exceptionally hard, and his dick suddenly clenched up and began its
lightning-fast climb to orgasm. His eyes shot open, and he started moaning. Deep
inside her, Sandy could feel his dick begin its spasming, releasing his spunk
inside the rubber. He had held it for as long as he could. The feeling was
incredible, and his pumping seemed like it lasted for a whole minute. When he
was finally done, his ears filled up with blood and he crumpled back into the
blanket. Sandy slipped his dick out of her dripping cunt, holding onto the open
end of the rubber, and rolled off him. She pulled him up so that he could rest
his head on the pillow, and she lay her head back into the depression between
his shoulder and neck. "Whew," was all that Hank could manage to mutter. His
eyes were closed.
Hank was till thinking about it two weeks later. The blow from Alison, them sex
with Sandy out of fucking nowhere, Sarah. Jesus, Sarah. He had left after the
"encounter" with Sandy; she had suggested he not stay around that night much
longer, wryly laughing about how he had caused enough 'fucking trouble' that
night. Ha. Ha. He had seen Sarah once coming across campus; she made a very
noticeable and purposeful turn in the opposite direction just to avoid even a
glance at him. he has respected her feelings and avoided her then and since.
Thankfully, they ate in different dining halls across campus and the only class
they shared was a huge Intro to Macro Economics lecture with nearly 250
students. He had seen Alison once since she had left to go and speak with his
ex-girlfriend. She had dropped by his double for a chat a few days after things
had blown over. They chatted; of course, Hank was naked at the time. Thankfully,
his room draw luck had saddled him with an engineering student, and the guy only
used the room every now and then to sleep. Hank thanked his luck because given
what he and Alison had spent the night doing would have made Jason's Coke bottle
thick glasses steam up. Through all the haze of the events of his first week at
college, Hank had not really devoted himself fully to his classes. His mind kept
racing onto Sarah's embarrassed face, Sandy's incredible tits, and Alison's
amazing body. It was enough to drive him insane. But Pierson University had a
reputation for strong academics, and after bombing the first two papers in his
freshman anthropology seminar, he found himself in Dr. Kent's office explaining
himself. Unfortunately, he was late for her office hours because he got out of
chem. lab late, so Dr. Kent suggested he return after dinner, as she usually was
in her office from 7-10 PM. Hank sheepishly agreed; he was not quite accustomed
to having to meet with teachers about poor grades. Hank quickly ate dinner alone
in a corner booth and fretted about his predicament. Maybe he'd give Alison a
ring later that night, just to see if Sarah was doing better, see if Alison
could come over, or maybe Sandy could.... He tried to focus on what he was going
to say to Dr. Kent. Dr. Mellinda Kent was one of the world's leading academics
on cross-culture social practices, particularly rites of passage into adulthood.
She wouldn't buy the old excuses for poor work in her class. If he wanted to
major in anthropology, he needed to come up with something original or tell the
truth outright. "Uhh, Dr. Kent, I just want to say that my papers haven't been
great so far because I've been having some personal problems with a friend,
well, actually, my ex-girlfriend" It sounded better in the dining hall booth.
Dr. Kent pushed her glasses down her nose, dropped her gold pen, and said,
"What?" Hank was scared now. "I was distracted, but I swear, I'll put it behind
me and work harder. I really enjoy your class, and I may eve major in this
department, so, please, give me a chance to write some really good papers for
you." Dr. Kent pushed away from her desk and circled the desk. hank gripped the
sides of his chair and met her stern gaze. She was a tall woman, above average,
maybe 5'11". She had long dirty blonde hair tied into a rope that dangled down
the back of her white blouse. Her chest was already legendary in his seminar,
for she wore colored bars under her white blouses accentuating what was an ample
and surprisingly firm bosom for a woman of her age (33?). "You'll have to do
better than that Mr. Mills to get a good grade in my class," she whispered. He
felt the cold steel against his right wrist first. He did not realize what was
happening until the other half of the cuff locked onto his left wrist and his
hands were secured under the chair's seat behind his back. Hank had no leverage,
and fear swelled from his stomach to his throat. However, Hank's penis did not
register fear any different than pleasure, and sure enough his hard on began to
rise in his jeans without any conscious control. "Dr. Kent, I--" he stammered.
"No! I am Mellinda, your mistress, and you are my slave." She slapped his face
and left a red sting on his cheek. "Slaves do not speak to their mistresses
without permission. They do not do ANYTHING unless they are told. Are we in
agreement?" Hank nodded. "Speak, slave!" she bellowed. Her hand slapped his
other cheek, a little lighter this time. "Yes, ma'am." he suggested. Mellinda
calmly straddled his legs and began to unbutton her blouse. Her heaving breasts
were clad in an emerald green brassiere, just inches from his gaping mouth. Hank
was still reeling from the speed of her transformation, but something primal in
him responded to this treatment. His dick was saluting her audacity and she had
to feel it through her knee high skirt and panties as she sat right above it.
Hank leaned forward and attempted to lick her chest. She abruptly pulled away
and pushed his shoulder back against the chair. "Did I say you could do that
slave? Now you must be punished." she hissed. Slowly, she slipped off the bra,
shaking it just a little as her breasts were freed completely. Then, while
keeping his shoulders pushed against the back of the chair, she rubbed the twin
mound against his forehead and his eyes. As hard as he tried, she had the
leverage, and she was in control. All he could do was watch...and feel. After a
few agonizing minutes that might as well have been hours, She slipped back off
of him. Hank gushed out a breath of air. Mellinda stood in front of him and
lightly pushed his wheeled chair into the center of her office. Then, to a tune
he could imagine she was listening to in her head, she stripped off her skirt,
her white half-slip, and stood in front of him clad only in her matching emerald
green thong panties. She bent over with her hands toward her desk and waved her
pearly-peach ass cheeks in his direction, looking under her armpit at his
stupefied visage. Hank's wood was straining against his zipper now, but only she
could free it. Mellinda, oblivious to his pain, finished her dance by throwing
the panties, soaked with her female musk, onto his face with a perfect lob toss
from her left big toe. "Now," she sneered with her fire engine red lips, "We
ride the stud." When she pulled the riding crop out of her desk drawer, Hank
knew just how serious she about the" riding" part. Her fingers were surgical in
their precision. She undid the buttons of her shirt with her teeth as her hands
unleashed his engorged monster from his jeans and boxers. His blue oxford had
lipstick smears along its midline, and his white T-shirt underneath was removed
with scissors, but Hank was too dazed to care. Hank's penis stood erect up to
his belly button. Mellinda eyed it critically, noting things out loud in a
disturbingly analytical fashion. "Maybe 7 inches erect...slight tilt to the
right side, indicating right handed dominance...Tanner Stage 4 pubic hair...a
fine European specimen." "God," Hank cried, "Don't just look at it" The pressure
was getting to him. "Tsk, tsk," she whispered leaning down towards his crotch.
At first he dreamed, he HOPED she would relieve him in some fashion. Instead,
she plucked out one, two, three, four pubic hairs Hank felt each exquisite rip
and nearly shot off each time. Pain, he thought, was now pleasure. It excited
the shit out of him. Mellinda moved with a cat-like grace over him again. She
lifted up his penis and inserted it into her wet, hairy pond. Leaning one hand
on Hank and one on the desk, she pumped up and down several times then paused
leading into a slow up and down pump. She continued like this a few minutes,
until Hank felt like his sac was about to burst, then she unhilted his shaft,
leaving just his red-purple knob inserted. Then, with agonizing control, she
made slow circular motions with just his blood-gorged knob parting her slit.
There were slight gugling noises as the knob slipped and pushed between her
well-lubricated labia Hank thrust his head back so he was looking at the
ceiling. This technique was tortuous and somehow, he was enjoying it more than
anything else in the world. Dr. Kent must have witnessed some primitive cultural
tribeswoman using this method on her sire. Western minds could not dream of
something this exotic and potent. The slap from the riding crop stunned Hank.
"Eyes on me, slave!" Hank's eyes grew wide. The slap was the breaking point. His
penis began to leap as his nuts pumped his juices against gravity. But then, he
felt a searing burning pull on his sac. Mellinda, sensing his imminent climax,
had reached down and yanked his ball away from his body. His tests fought to
return to their comfort zone, but they failed, and his orgasm with them. "AWWWWGHHHUUUUHHH"
Hank exclaimed. "Slave will cum when he is asked," she said politely. Mellinda
released her iron grip on his balls and threw her imposing frame onto him. She
thrust her enormous (and only slightly sagging) breasts into his mouth and he
licked her rosy red nipples eagerly. She thumped her full body up and down onto
Hank with increasing fury. Her excited juices sprayed over his lower abdomen and
thighs, soaking his jeans. His penis ached from the ferocity of the fucking, but
he didn't care. "Ohhh, ride me, stud! YES! Fuck me, you young stallion. FUCK
ME!" Her orgasm came first. She ocked her head back and forward for a few
moments, the violence of her shaking undoing the thick braid down her back. She
pushed his face into her cleavage while moaning, and Hank could not hold back
his aborted load any longer. "UHHHHH! MUHHHLINDAAAAAAHHHH! I'M CUMMMMIN!" he
cried. Mellinda leaned back against the desk and absorbed his spasms of cum. She
pulled his slackening rod out for the last few dribbles. Hank's cum spit onto
her silky pubic hair and dripped onto the rug below. Mellinda smeared the milky
droplets like lotion onto her cunt lips, and then smeared her moistened fingers
along Hank's lips. He sighed and nearly fainted in his chair. "Now, slave," she
cooed. "If you can get hard in the next five minutes, you'll get an A for the
semester." Without mercy or pause, she began pumping his flaccid rod. ****
Chapter 6 **** Sarah was in definite disarray, or at least that's how she felt.
All that crap with Sandy and the whole lesbian love thing that really didn't
make any kind of sense yet was strangely really meaningful only combined with
the confusion she was feeling about Hank's trysts and apparently continuing
intimate relationship with HER OWN FUCKING ROOMMATE. And then there was last
Saturday night, when she got really staggering drunk at this frat party that she
had been talked into going to by the very same Hank-screwing Alison. Jesus
Christ, that was ridiculous. The whole thing had started out more or less
sedately for those kinds of things; some lame disco ball in the living room,
which had been emptied of furniture and filled with about two hundred sweaty
freshmen. They blasted Techno until about midnight, and then somebody got a hold
of the CD player and stuck in some rap. It only got worse after that, although
maybe the fact that she had downed TWO whole margaritas and a beer by that time
had contributed to her bewildered state. Wandering upstairs, Sarah had stumbled
around between bedrooms looking for someplace to pee, her bladder bursting
underneath
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