When I was in college, years ago, anything went. We were threatened
by syphilis, gonorrhea, herpes, crabs. All of them are inconvenient,
some could make you sterile, but seldom did anyone die of venereal
disease. The Pill had freed us forever, we thought, from the threat of
unwanted pregnancy. Sex was readily available to any normally attracive
individual, and poular wisdom had it that to be young and in college
was to be kinky. I tell you this so that those of you who weren't there
will understand, and those of you who were will remember.
I was a junior in that year of 1971, and I had a boyfriend by the
name of Dave. Our sex life was good--we did some experimenting--but not
what I would have called spectacular. We partied a lot. Didn't
everbody?
At one of the parties, we encountered an old friend of his, an
acquaintance of mine. The reason she wasn't a friend of mine was that
Dave and she flirted constantly, or rather, he'd come on to her and
she'd tell him to call her when he didn't have a girlfriend. We all got
rather drunk at that party, and since Dave was the best of us at
getting home alive and tipsy, he offered to drive her home. She
accepted, and climbed into the back seat.
I was surprised when he drove straight to our house, but she didn't
say an anything and we all settled down to watch "Saturday Night
Live." In the middle of the show, Dave gave her that look which could
devastate any female heart and said "Jody and I are going to....Wanna
join us?"
You could have knocked me over with a feather when she said yes
with no hesitation. Even now, she is hard for me to understand. We went
into the bedroom, where Dave was fully occupied undressing us both. We
both started kissing and rubbing him, but only touched each other when
we happened to grab for the same body part at the same time.
When we were all naked, Dave turned out the lights. I could barely
make out him kissing her. While he was doing that, he grabbed my hand
and pulled me next to him. He raised his head and told me to suck her
tit. Though I know now that this was her first experience with another
woman, as it was mine, her back arched and she stroked my face. Dave
went to her other nipple and she started, but moved one hand to cup the
back of his head.
Suddenly she sat up and bore Dave all the way onto his back. She
kissed his chest, but was plinly on her way down to his dick. Beating
her to the punch, I took his erect cock into my mouth. He stroked my
hair with one hand, and I think I saw his other cupping her breast. I
lost track of them both in the joy of giving head. Unexpetedly I felt a
tongue flick tentatively up my slit to rest lightly, quivering, on my
clit. I jumped. I've never felt anything like it. Her tongue swirled
around wetly, stimulating me in ways I'd never been touched before. I
told myself I should be imagining that it was Dave, that it was any
man. I'm not a lesbian! I told myself. But the thought of that woman's
tongue touching me in that way was so erotic that I came almost
immediately.
Belatedly, I realized that in my pleasure I had co,pletely
forgotten Dave's. Jenny, however, had done no such thing and, with a
husky chuckle, stole his saliva slicked member literally from under my
nose. He came noisily into her mouth, and, in his sotted state, rolled
over and went to sleep.
I felt that it was unfair that she had not cum, so I fingered her
until she came and then stroked her gently until we both fell asleep.
The next morning, I found my hand still nestled between her legs.
I didn't see her for several weeks until I bumped into her in the
cafeteria. During the course of lunch (strangely enough, there was no
mention of Dave or any of the events of that night), we discovered that
we were in different sections of Cal I, taught by the same professor.
Since it's a prety hard class, we decided to study together. Did we
have ulterior motives? I'll admit the thought did cross my mind, but I
didn't consider it likely.
That night, we pulled out our books. She leaned over hers with her
round ass in the air, but my view was straight between her small
breasts. My blouse, though rather more modest, showed a similar view
between my rather fuller ones as I, too leaned over my books. We
managed to get quite a bit of work done, between us understanding more
of the material than either. We were sitting crosslegged, knee to knee,
dreading starting the next problem, when she started stroking my thigh.
Blithely, she started reading out the next problem, and, imitating her
(with a few swallows), I started discussing it with her. As we moved
closer to the solution, her hand moved closer to my crotch. We finished
the problem and, one handed without looking, she unfastened my jeans.
As we worked on the next problem, she unfastened my blouse. I laid
on my somach for the next problem, but caressed her butt. Finally, she
said "Look, I can't concentrate," and slammed her books. She turned me
over and slid my shirt from my shoulders. I unfastened her shirt as we
kissed for the first time. I sat up as she reached for the fastening on
my bra, and she took off her own shirt. I bucked up my hips when she
pulled at my jeans, and she slid both them and my panties off at the
same time. I was naked in fron of her, except for my socks, and she was
still wearing pants, straddling me. The rough denim felt incredible
against my sparse bush. I reached up and touched her breasts as if
caressing a butterfly, and she leaned forward, the seam on the jeans
pulling at my bush as she did so. When her mouth contacted my breast it
was like the kiss of a hummingbird, but as she flitted back and forth
between them became more and more agressive until it was almost painful
and her mouth flew over my stomach to a place running for her.
It hovered there, dispensing warm breath and breathing my scent
(did Dave ever do that?) until a finger crept between my lips and
teased, tantalized, had me sqiurming and pressing for more. Finally her
mouth enclosed my clit and sucked it hard, stopping just short of
extreme pain and pleasure. Then her tongue gently roved in and out of
the petals of what she came to call her flower. Her finger explored
within me finding the pleasure that stills the squirms, and stroked and
licked and kissed until I didn't care that I was in her dorm room and
the door may or may not have been locked. When I finally looked down,
my legs were smothering her face into me with the help of my hands.
As my breathing slowed, I hugged her, marveling that the feel of
her small breasts on mine could arouse me yet again, and my shaking
hands unfastened her pants. Kissing her neck and velvet shoulders, I
stroked her tits with maddeningly light touches, teasing her as she had
teased me. Remaining seated, I had her stand, taking her pants down as
she did. Looking up the length of her body to her face, I lost sight of
her when I buried my face in her muff. She didn't taste like me, didn't
taste like a man. She tasted like Jenny. The taste was ok then. I loved
it later. I eplored and probed, but could not make her cum, then. She
hugged me, said it was allright, but I felt unbalanced and brought her
off with my finger. Later I could make her cum easily, when she moved
in with Dave and me, and still later, when we turned to Dave less and
less and each other more and more.
But then I had to be satisfied with what I knew, and the rest, as I
said, came later,
--
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