My First Love

"I always wanted to see where you work," Patty said, gazing at me intently.

"Is it okay if I take her upstairs for a tour?" I asked the guard.

"You're not here to start any trouble, are you ma'am?" The guard asked half-seriously.

"No," Patty said.

"Go on ahead," the guard said.

Without a word I turned and led Patty up the stairs and down the hall to the AM studio. I brought her into the booth and quickly checked to make sure I was ready for the next break. Then I turned to her. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I... wanted to see you," Patty said.

My next thought was that she didn't have a car on campus. "How did you get here?" I asked.

"I borrowed my suitemate's car," she said.

"Okay," I said, and I gestured around me. "This is where I work."

"I see," Patty said. She sat down in one of the empty seats in the studio, usually reserved for talk show guests. She looked tired. "I didn't like the way things ended... before," she said.

"Well, it is what it is," I said.

"I know," Patty said, "But I just don't want things to end this way. I wanted things to be different. There are so many things I wanted to do that I haven't had a chance to do."

I wondered what she was talking about. She was only 19. She wasn't dying or anything. "Like what?" I asked.

"Like, visit a lonely disk jockey in the middle of the night," Patty said, and she stood up and started unbuttoning her long coat.

"I'm not really a disk jockey," I mumbled, my tired mind thinking that maybe she wanted to meet the guy in the FM studio across the hall. Then I saw Patty finish unbuttoning her coat and take it off. She was wearing a tiny black dress. It was very low on top and very high on the bottom. Patty usually dressed very conservatively. I never saw her wear anything that showed her cleavage before or anything but shorts that went above her knee. I had no idea she owned anything like this. Unable to figure out what was going on, I just stared at her.

"I borrowed this from my roommate," Patty said. That explained why it looked so small on her. Her roommate was six inches shorter and maybe 50 pounds lighter. On somebody short and skinny it probably looked like a perfectly normal dress. On my voluptuous girlfriend it almost looked obscene. "I've been listening to you," Patty said. "You make me so hot."

What did she mean? I thought to myself. I'm not actually ON the air; I'm playing tapes of shows. I haven't uttered a single word. Then it dawned on me that Patty was intent on living out one of her fantasies. I tore my eyes away from Patty and glanced around the studio. The door was solid and only had a tiny window to look in from the outside. You would have to make an effort to see what was going on inside. I barely ever saw the FM disk jockey but it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility that he would knock on my door to ask me a question or something. The far wall was all glass and looked into the production room, but it was dark. By now it was unlikely a producer would show up to get some late-night work in, but it wouldn't be the first time I suddenly saw a producer on the other side of the glass at 2 or 3 am. So yeah, we might get discovered, but probably not. Living in the dorm we were kind of used to those odds. Maybe the possibility of getting caught was exciting for Patty. It just made me anxious. Or was it exciting, after all? I looked at Patty again. She was staring at me, one of those smoldering looks. Our lovemaking, such as it was, had become rote and routine. It barely even excited me anymore. This was different. This was exciting.

I suddenly realized that Rush was playing his "outro" music. As distracted as I was, it was like having cold water splashed on my face. I dashed over to the console and was able to play the first spot just in time. If you were ever listening to the radio or watching TV and saw or heard a snippet of a commercial get overrun by another, it's because somebody was too slow playing the local spots over the tape or network feed. Maybe those tape operators were distracted by their girlfriends too.

I watched Patty as I went through the break. She was watching me, her hand idly stroking her stomach and torso. Then she lifted it up and touched one of her breasts over the dress. I was shocked to see her do this. Patty insisted she never touched herself, or she did and lied to me about it all along. I could feel myself getting hard at the mere thought of Patty touching herself.

Finally the break was over and Rush resumed his yammering. I began to stand up to go to Patty, but she held up her other hand. "No," she said, "Just watch me." With a little bit of an effort, she pulled the dress down to expose her breasts. Her large brown nipples came into view, and she immediately grabbed both breasts with her hands and began kneading them. "I love it when you touch my breasts like this," she whispered.

I reached over to where my soda can was and took a long swig. I was going to need some caffeine.

"Do you want to touch yourself... down there?" Patty asked. Seriously, we were lovers for the better part of a year and she still referred to our naughty bits as "down there."

I reached down and took hold of my erection through my jeans. I slid my fingers along the shaft. "Are you going to touch yourself too?" I asked.

Patty stopped fondling her breasts and pulled the hem of her dress up above her waist. She was wearing a pair of black cotton panties. She began to touch herself outside of her panties with her left hand, while her right hand went back to her breasts.

We stayed like that, facing each other and touching ourselves. After a while Patty slid her hand inside her panties. I could see her working a finger inside herself. I began to rub myself a little more vigorously through my jeans.

Patty stopped and reached back for the coat she had draped over the chair. She spread it out across the floor. She reached into the bag she had brought with her. I thought it was just a prop to go along with her story of being my wife and bringing my dinner, but she pulled out a bottle of chocolate syrup. She lay down on the coat with her long legs facing me, the dress bunched around her waist. She opened the bottle and poured a little bit onto her nipple. I watched it begin to trickle down her breast.

"I want you to lick it off of me," Patty said. I'm not even sure why I was waiting for her to say it, but I leapt out of my chair and knelt beside her. I licked the chocolate syrup off of her, and then swirled my tongue around her nipple. Patty grabbed my head and pulled me to her mouth. We kissed, our tongues swirling the chocolate around.

Suddenly I was aware the next break was approaching. I pulled myself away from Patty and back to the chair. I set up the next batch of commercials and got them started in time. I watched Patty the whole time. She stretched out luxuriously on the floor, one hand on her breast and one hand inside her panties. "I'm getting so turned on watching you work," she whispered.

I almost laughed. What was erotic about watching me play tapes? I held my tongue and let her continue her fantasy. The break ended and I went back to her. I took the chocolate syrup and poured some on her other breast. I licked it off and then continued to lick and kiss my way around the exposed skin of her neck and shoulders. I reached down and slid my hand into her panties, penetrated her with my middle finger, and began to slowly move it in and out.

"Make love to me," Patty whispered.

I imagined I heard a sound outside, and lifted my head up like a gazelle on the prairie to listen. After I was sure nobody was about to walk into the studio, I looked back at her. "I don't have any condoms," I said.

"Look in the bag," Patty whispered.

Duh, why didn't I think of that? This was Patty's fantasy, and she would have planned out every tiny detail. I pumped my finger in and out of her a few more times, causing her hips to jerk, then I went back to the bag and fished out a condom. I looked at the clock on the console. The seconds ticked by. I strained my ears again to listen for any noises outside. Finally I took a deep breath and undid my jeans, slid off my sneakers and pulled my pants and underwear down, letting my 7 inch erection pop into view. Patty had pulled off her panties and was touching herself absentmindedly, staring at my cock. I tore the wrapper off the condom and slid it onto my erection. Those school issued condoms were always a little tight on me. It made me feel like a beast.

I knelt down and crawled in between Patty's legs. I gave her a kiss as I lined myself up with her pussy and slid inside her. She must have been pretty wet, because I was able to go all the way in without any effort.

I had resolved that I would keep focused on my job, and if the sex went on long enough to reach the next break, I would pull out of her and go do my job. Within fifteen seconds I forgot everything else except for the task at hand. I kissed Patty as I made love to her. Patty wrapped her legs around me, trying to push me into her as deeply as I could go. I was focused on Patty, like I always was at moments like this, aware of her body, her movements, her breathing. A couple of times she gasped and bucked her hips, and I would speed up my pace, thinking to myself that I was doing something right.

Eventually I felt my orgasm building. "I'm almost there," I whispered into her ear.

"Okay," she whispered. I inched forward to push myself into her more insistently, increasing my pace until I was moving in and out of her as quickly as I could go. As an added precaution I would often pull out of her before I orgasmed, even with the condom on. Patty kept her legs wrapped around me. "No," she almost shouted, wrapping her arms around me as well, holding me in place. I went past the point of no return and I came inside her, grunting and thrusting. I could feel Patty bucking her hips beneath me. When it was over I fell against her, exhausted and spent.

"I love you," Patty whispered.

"I love you too," I whispered. As I came back to my senses I remembered where I was and with a jolt realized that I had completely missed a break. I disentangled myself from Patty and went over to the desk, the cum-filled condom bouncing obscenely on the edge of my withering penis. I definitely missed a break, and as it was nearing 2am, it was time for several more commercials and the next hour's tape. I threw the condom in the trash, and resolved to cover it up with some other garbage so that hopefully it wouldn't get noticed. I quickly dressed, resigned to the fact that there was still cum on my dick but there was no way I could get to a bathroom in my current state, and that it was going to be sticking to my underwear for the rest of the night.

Patty was pulling the dress back into place, over her hips that were much wider than the dress was meant for. She was crying, tears rolling down her cheeks and ruining her makeup. I stared at her, feeling my heart go out to her, my first love, but I didn't know what to do for her. "What's wrong?" I asked, even though I knew the answer and didn't want to hear her say it.

"Nothing," she said, wiping at her face and smearing her makeup even more. "I'm going to miss you," she added.

"I'm going to miss you too," I said. "I'm not leaving yet, though."

"I know," Patty said, "We have a little more time together. It's just... not going to be the same."

The next break started, and I switched my focus to my job again. I could only nod my head in response.

"Well, I guess I'd better get going," Patty said. She was buttoning up her coat.

"Wait, don't you want to clean up first?" I asked.

"I'm okay," she said.

"Do you know your way back?" I asked. This was 1998. Patty didn't have a cell phone or GPS. I didn't want to imagine what would happen if she got lost in Baltimore in the middle of the night.

"I do," Patty said, "I wrote out the directions here and back." That's my girl, I thought, always prepared.

"I'll call you tomorrow then, when I wake up," I said. It was half of a statement and half of a question.

"Okay," Patty said, and with one last long look she turned and walked out of the studio, just in time for me to start the 2am hour.