When I was in college, years ago, anything went. We were threatened by
syphilis, gonorrhoea, 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 attractive individual, and popular
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 everybody?
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. Unexpectedly 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 completely 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 pretty
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
cross-legged, 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
stomach 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 fornt 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 aggressive 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 squirming 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 unfast-
ened 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 explored and probed, but
could not make her cum, then. She hugged me, said it was all right, 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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