The Four Freshmen Ch. 01

"What... what the fuck?" I stammered, still in considerable pain. "What was that?"

"Jason. I'm so sorry. But you just poked my cherry, Baby."

"What?" I was still a little wozzy and wasn't following her.

"You know," she had a broad smile now. "My cherry. Maidenhead. Hymen."

"With my tongue?" I asked, somewhat stupidly.

"Don't get me wrong, I love what you were doing down there," she said pulling me to her breast and stroking my hair. "But you've got a wicked deep tongue move, Buster."

"I had no idea."

"Me either. It was a painful surprise for both of us."

I was calming down down, her fingers soothed my aching head, and when I opened my eyes, I found a swollen pink nipple just inches away. This time I was cautious, letting my tongue trail a moist path over the curve of her breast before wrapping my lips around the target.

"Mmmmmm," she moaned. "You could just keep doing that. Or the other, if you want. Just watch where you poke."

I marveled at her nipples as I sucked them deep into my mouth and pummeled them with my tongue. Eventually, I kissed my down her stomach, trailed my tongue through her pubic hair, and returned to fluttering and teasing her clit. I was concentrating so hard on the task at hand, that I hardly noticed Donna gradually shift her body.

That is, until I felt warm lips encircle my soft cock.

"Mmmmmmmm..." she moaned, looking up at me, holding my cock in her fingers.

I pulled the blanket over us to keep off the chill, and we lay like that for a long time, gently sucking and tonguing each other. At some point, my cock regained its erection, filling her mouth, and her whimpering returned, although somewhat muffled. There was no urgency this time, just a gentle, gradual climb up the mountain sexual stimulation.

She found the sensitive spot under my cock head, probably because my body responded by tensing up every time her tongue fluttered against it. Meanwhile, I discovered that when I sucked Donna's stiff clit between my lips, she squealed in delight and ground her pussy against my mouth.

About the time the first sunlight began to filter through my windows, she picked up the tempo of her teasing. Her tongue would swirl over my sensitive spot. Then she would pull her lips along the entire length of my shaft while pressing the tip of her tongue into me. At some point, my hips began to undulate in time with her rhythm.

Soon, a series of involuntary pulses overtook me. I tried to pull my mouth away from Donna long enough to warm her of an impending orgasm, but she clamped her thighs against my ears, and pushed my lips back against her vulva.

It wasn't like the violent, mind-bending eruptions of last night. This time I just ground down on her mouth with my hips and released three or four spurts with only a slight audible groan.

As I came, Donna thrust her hips firmly against my mouth and I felt a spasm building in her body which culminated in a hot liquid release that poured gently across my lips and down the inside of her thighs. For a long time after that, she suckled on my shrinking cock, while I licked the musky secretions from her vulva and inner thighs. Eventually, we drifted off to sleep, our cheeks pressed against each other's sex.

We awoke about noon to the peal of church bells coming up from Brattle Street. Her trim figure and flawless skin were, if anything, even more beautiful in the light of day.

We dressed. I gave her my only pair of bikini briefs because her panties were still too damp to wear. She left them under my pillow as a souvenir. We ambled down Mass. Ave. to a Middle Eastern Cafe where, over a tabouleh salad the reality of class schedules, assignment deadlines and exams began to intrude into our sexual reverie. After lunch, I dropped Donna off at her dorm, which is when she mentioned the pact with her roommates.

Our relationship soon settled in a comfortable friends-with-benefits scenario. My own roommate, the Dorchester Phantom, was an observant Jew who hustled home every Friday afternoon in time for Shabbat and seldom returned before Sunday evening. On those nights we might catch a movie, go to a party or play, but were almost always back at my dorm by midnight, often ripping off our clothes before we made it onto my room.

Donna never gave any indication she was ready to part with her virginity. And I never pressed the issue.

Why should I? She was fascinated with my cock and most nights would begin with her watching intently as I masturbated for her. Sometimes I would shoot on her body, other times she would kneel in front of me and clamp her lips around my cock as I administered the last few strokes. This ritual was the first step in what inevitably became a weekend of repeated rounds of oral sex and mutual masturbation.

We knew each other's schedules and sometimes sent urgent text messages asking to meet during a free period. Mine sometimes concluded with instructions to "wear a short skirt." She was apt to remind me to "bring a napkin."

We soon grew skilled at satisfying each other with quickie handjobs in semi-public spaces. Ice cream parlor booths worked especially well. As did the dark corners of student coffee houses and cafes. But Donna also thrived on the thrill of even more public sex. It began with discreet petting during art movies in the Brattle Cinema, moved to handjobs in the Library stacks and on the Red Line Train, and culminated with a blowjob in the bleachers during the ninth inning of a Red Sox game at Fenway Park.

Perhaps kinkiest of all was that Donna somehow obtained a swipe card that accessed the upper levels of the main campus Library, an area usually reserved for grad students working on dissertations. She took me there an hour before closing one night.

We snuggled into a wooden study carrel situated next to a full-length window. Below was a typical three-story campus dorm. From this dark perch we could see clearly into a half-dozen rooms. In one, there was a fully dressed couple passionately making out on a common room couch. In another, a guy was lying on his bed in sweats reading a book.

Every minute or so, his hand would reach between his legs and discreetly squeeze his cock. Soon he was actively stroking a growing erection through his pants and, eventually, he pushed his sweats down and began jerking in ernest. Donna guided my hand into her panties and I fingered her to a convulsive orgasm while we both secretly watched this unsuspecting guy beat off.

It was mid-Octorber when for some reason, the sexual passion began to dissipate. Instead of spending both Fridays and Saturday nights together, it was just one night or the other. The urgent text messages become less frequent, as did the randomly e-mailed photos of various body parts in sexual arousal.

Mid-terms were approaching and we agreed to skip the weekend nights altogether, opting instead for a Sunday afternoon quickie in a quiet little vest-pocket park on Mt. Auburn Street near Donna's dorm. The grass was still wet from the previous night's rain and the air was cold enough to see the condensation from our breath.

We turned into the park, embraced and I reached under her skirt and fingered Donna to a mild orgasm. She then unzipped my pants, worked my cock with her fingers, dropped to her knees, and sucked me off until I came in her mouth.

We cleaned up and walked somberly back toward her dorm. As we turned onto her street, Donna's mood seemed to brighten and she looked up at me with her most wicked little smile.

"Remember the first time you dropped me off at the dorm and I mentioned how I had promised to share everything with my roommates?"

"How could I forget?"

"Well," she said standing on her toes and giving me a sloppy wet kiss. "I think it's time you meet Barbara."

To Be Continued in "The Four Freshmen. Part II: Barbara"