Ashley

This is a true story and the characters are real people. I will sometimes change minor details to help obscure identities. Also I obviously can't completely remember exact events and dialog verbatim, but nothing deviates far from the truth and I am writing them as I remember them. Anything that is purely fiction will be noted.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I also want to note this story contains one instance of a term most closely associated with taking one's life. In this story, the context is in reference to a type of drill in sports, where the team jogs single file around the field, and the last person must sprint to the front of the line, the next person taking off right after doing so. Nothing close to the word's more traditional definition occurs, but I thought it prudent to mention ahead of time.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'll be honest - my headcount isn't super high, but I did have some success in college. I may get around to writing about some of the other encounters, but I want to start with the one that stands out the most in my mind, the one I still jack off thinking about to this day.

I had been stirring in bed for maybe an hour, before deciding I wasn't going to fall back asleep. I got up and went to the kitchen to toast a bagel, and heard my roommate John and his younger brother Jake, who was visiting for the weekend, catching up in the living room on how their nights turned out after leaving the party we all went to. If it helps to visualize the scene, our apartment was an open concept design, the front door opening into the kitchen, an island separating the kitchen from the living room, which was flanked by two bedrooms.

"Dude, I just couldn't," Jake is telling his brother. "It was just too much," he continued.

"Couldn't what?" I asked from the kitchen, noticing a smirk form on John's face.

"Jake hooked up with Ashley.... Kinda," John got in before his brother could answer.

"Didn't realize she was into robbing the cradle," I shot back, a little surprised. I honestly had her pegged as playing for the other team so to speak. Ashley was a year older than John and I, both of us 21. His younger brother was 18 and about to graduate high school, was trying to decide which college to attend, hence his visit.

"She's cute though," I concluded.

"I mean, yeah, she's cute, but..." Jake answered.

"But...?" I inquired.

"She has a huge bush!" John blurted out, barely containing his laughter.

"Yeah, it was such a turn off. I couldn't even get hard," Jake said, continuing his side of the story. "I just said sorry, I'm too drunk, and got a cab back here."

I laughed to myself for a second, before offering "Damn, yeah, I didn't peg her as the type." My bagel popped up from the toaster, I grabbed it and the tub of cream cheese and went back to my room to eat at my desk. I couldn't help but think about the quick conversation about Ashley.

Ashley wasn't a major head turner or anything, but she was definitely cute. A natural blonde with pale blue eyes, small slightly upturned nose, and just enough cheekbone definition so her face didn't appear round. She was probably around 5'1" or 5'2", with an athletic build thanks to playing soccer on the college's club team. Think thick powerful thighs, round ass, and seemingly not much going on up top, but she was always wearing sports bras so I wasn't completely sure.

Socially she was kind of "one of the guys", but also had a close group of girlfriends that she hung out with as often as she'd watch sports and play video games with us boys. She always dressed pretty casually with minimal makeup or fuss. She was just as happy going to a wine bar with her girlfriends as she was drinking cheap beer and eating pizza on a couch with John and myself. I never actively pursued her, but will admit we have had a couple of quick drunken make out sessions that just seemed to "happen". It was completely casual, and nothing had ever gone further than that.

What I just heard about her, however, was going to change that. I'm not completely sure how it came to be, but by now I had developed a pretty serious fetish for hairy pussies. It was my own little secret at the time - I didn't want to go against the grain (this was college in the mid 2000s, and the completely bare look was completely in). I hadn't ever turned down a girl because she was shaved, but when I found myself watching porn, it was mostly of 70s and 80s vintage. I even had my favorite actresses: Brigitte Lahaie, Christy Canyon, Patricia Rhomberg, Laura Sands.... You get the idea.

After finding out that Ashley was sporting a full bush of wool down below, I initiated contact a bit more frequently, doing my best not to be too obvious. I would flirt a bit more, trying to gauge her reaction, which was a tough read but she tended to play along, never fully shutting me down. It didn't hurt that we were both from similar parts of the Chicago area, sharing an at times much different mentality than that of the Southern Californians that made up most of the student population. And like I said, we had sort of hooked up before, sloppy making out, nothing I think either one of us would attribute to being hammered. But still, even for that to happen, there had to be some level of mutual attraction. I was pretty confident I could take things further.

I was walking over to one of the smaller student unions on a Thursday evening, pondering what to grab for an early-ish dinner. I had a rough week of tests, and couldn't make up my mind on if I wanted to go all out and blow off some steam, or take it easy and hang around the apartment. I'm not sure if it's how all colleges were (or still are), but the big party nights tended to be Thursday and Saturday, with Friday and Sunday tending to be "recovery" days, with smaller gatherings among tighter knit friend groups taking preference over the bar and party scene. And while I couldn't deny that I didn't want to miss out on anything big, I equally couldn't deny my exhaustion. I figured food would either give me energy or make me tired, and answer the question for me.

I got a call from Ashley, which was strange. We usually just texted.

"Hey," I answered.

"Hey - did you just walk past Circle K on 6th?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Are you going to Highland?"

Highland was a mix between a sandwich shop and a convenience store, and was a popular spot to grab some snacks or dinner as it was run by the university and accepted our meal plan cards.

"Yeah."

"I just finished practice, wait for me."

"Sure."

We hung up. I wondered why she would be taking this route from the soccer field to Highland - it was shorter to cut through campus. Before I could really give it much thought I could see her walking towards me half a block away. I could see her attire was strictly functional. Shirtless, she had on a white sports bra, black Kappa shorts, black Adidas slides with dark blue socks pulled down, cleats and shinguards presumably in the drawstring backpack clutched in her hand next to her.

We were hit by a blast of A/C as the automatic sliding door opened. I let her in first, not failing to notice a fair amount of short blonde peach fuzz in the small of her back. Her sports bra gave no hint of cleavage, and despite the cold A/C, her nipples made no presence. I checked multiple times.

"Are you going out tonight?" she asked as we perused the frozen food options behind clear glass doors.

"I don't know. Kinda not feeling it. But who knows I might change my mind after a bite. You?"

"Same, feeling pretty tired. Coach had us running suicides at the end. But I admit, we didn't look great today, and are on a three game loss streak. I think I just wanna veg on the couch with some wine. Wanna come over?"

We grabbed a few microwave burritos and walked over to her place.

With empty burrito wrappers on the coffee table and cups of wine in our hands, we sat on one of the couch's two medium sized cushions. Not necessarily close but not far apart either. She sat indian-style while I was lounging back with my feet on the coffee table. We partially engaged watching some shitty MTV "reality show" (I think Next, but I can't honestly remember), but mostly just talking about our club teams.

The university had NCAA caliber men's and women's soccer teams, and she was actually on a partial scholarship for the women's team. I had attended the first day of tryouts for the men's team before realizing it was a waste of time as I was completely outclassed. I instead joined the club rugby team, despite the closest thing to rugby I'd ever played before was a few "fun drill" Australian rules football games my Australian high school soccer coach would conduct as sort of a reward for a good run of games. The rugby club would take anyone as a rookie, regardless of experience, and part of being on the rookie squad was learning the game. Ashley was one of the few people I could talk rugby with as she knew the game - her dad played on a club team back in the Chicago area.

"I'll refill us," I offered, noticing both of us nearly out of the cheap red we had opened. Being college, we were drinking out of clear plastic tumblers rather than actual wine glasses. Ashley handed me hers with a smile. Returning from the kitchen with the replenished drinks, I noticed Ashley had shifted and was now laying on her back with her head on the arm of the couch, legs still crossed indian-style, texting on her phone. I paused when I noticed that despite her shorts and panties, a few darkish but definitely still blonde curly hairs betrayed her, poking out one of her thighs. I paused slightly to let the view last a moment longer, but continued back into the room as she put her phone down and sat up, extending her hand towards me for her cup.

As I sat back down, she took a sip and placed her cup on the floor next to her, resuming her laid back position. I resumed my laid back position. Ashley reached for her phone again, and with her being distracted I took the opportunity to glance between her legs again, treated to an even bigger tuft of her blonde bush peeking out. Despite my best efforts, I felt my body redirecting blood southwards, and quickly said I was gonna take a piss before getting too hard. Closing and locking the bathroom door behind me, I shoved my shorts down and started beating off, achieving full mast quickly. However, the wine's effect prevented me from finishing quickly enough to make the peeing excuse believable. I pulled my shorts back up and washed my hands, my dick slowly deflating. Before heading back to the living room I glanced in the mirror, the ridge of my mushroom head clearly outlined down my left thigh.

Upon returning to the living room, Ashley was still laid back, but her legs were closed. She lent over and grabbed her empty cup.

"Another round?" she asked, waving the cup at me.

"I'll refill you but I should get going," I said, noticing it was almost eleven. Plus if I had any more to drink, I knew I wouldn't be safe to drive back to my place.

"Booo," she fake pouted. I poured my half empty cup into hers, and grabbed my keys. Driving home, I couldn't get that little peek of her blonde bush out of my head. I casually massaged the tip of my dick as I drove, fully hard by the time I got home. Everyone else was out partying, so I just took my clothes off and sat at my desk, pulling up some classic porn on my laptop. I searched "Brigitte Lahaie" as I thought the color of her bush looked pretty close to the color of Ashley's. I found the scene I was looking for - one I knew very well. The French beauty was playing a sort of sex school teacher, riding some guy's cock in front of four curious girls. Then my phone lit up indicating I got a message.

Ashley: Did you enjoy earlier?

Me: Of course.

Me: I'm glad I didn't go out. Wine and relaxation was exactly what I needed.

Ashley: I didn't mean that....

Me:....ok

Me: What then?

Ashley: I wasn't texting when you came back with the wine. I had my camera open.

Me: Oh. That. Sorry.

Me: I just couldn't help but notice....

Ashley: Notice what?

Me: Ummm, well....

Me: Some of your pubes were poking out of your shorts....

Ashley: I know

Me: What? You did?

Ashley: Yeah you dork

Ashley: I did it on purpose

Me: Oh. Why?

Ashley: You know girls talk, right?

Me: Sure

Ashley: Hannah told me about hooking up with you

Me: Oh, right. Ok.

Me: What did she say?

Ashley: That she wasn't going to again.

Me: Uhh ok...

Me: Did she say why?

I asked even though I had a pretty good idea why.

Ashley: Buncha reasons...

Me: Care to share some?

Ashley: Well, three of them intrigued me

Me: Ok, what are those three then?

Ashley: Well, she said you have a fat cock. Too fat.

Me: She said that?

Ashley: Yup. She complained how sore she was the next day

My mind flashed back to the encounter a week or so ago. Hannah lived with a few girls soccer players, who were having a small party at their house. Ashley invited me, and Hannah and I hit it off. At the end of the night, we went into her room. She was about Ashley's height, but very thin. Flat chest, almost no ass, but spunky and full of enthusiasm. That seemed to change slightly when I felt a slight hesitation as I felt her hand reach into my pants, underneath my underwear, finding my rock hard dick.

Shucking our clothes, we continued making out, and she stroked me as I fingered her soft, shaved pussy. Feeling its wetness, I grabbed a condom, she rolled onto her back, and I started pressing my cock against her extremely tight opening. Like, tightest I've ever felt tight.

"You're not a-"

"No!" she cut me off. I continued to press at her opening.

"You're so fucking tight," I said.

"No I'm not. You're so fucking thick," she replied.

I was still relatively naive at the time that my dick was pretty big. It never really looked like it to me, and it seemed about average compared to most of the porn I'd seen. I also have rather large hands and my legs resemble tree trunks more than skinny twigs, so from my perspective I looked what I figured to be average, maybe a little above but nothing more than that. This was also a time when "manscaping" was a fairly new concept, introduced to me in the beginning of "Harold and Kumar go to White Castle." I had not embraced it, so I was still sporting a full wild 70s bush, not really putting together that it also affects perception of size. While I've had my penis called "beautiful" before, this was the first overt reference to size I can remember getting.

"Oh!" she yelped quietly as I had finally worked my fat cockhead into her. She was so tight it took everything I had to not erupt into the condom right then. I just held still, her tight walls feeling like a vice.

"Let me on top," she said, and I retreated, rolling onto my back. She climbed on top of me, steadying her bald wet cunt while holding my erection up towards it. Now Hannah was rail thin, exacerbating what I was seeing, but, her having mentioned it, I do remember thinking my cock looked generously girthy against her small pussy. She started lowering herself down.

"Ugh," she groaned slightly, enveloping the 2 inch long head.

"Fuck," she grunted, sinking another inch, 4 left to go. I think it was hurting both of us but she seemed determined, and continued to push down.

"Oh! Ow!" she exclaimed, less reserved than before, as I felt what I now know was her cervix bump the tip of my dick. I looked back down, and noticed about 2 inches of shaft remained. She climbed off of me.

"Yeah. Sorry, not happening," she said casually. I was secretly thankful, as it hurt for me too. At this point in life I had slept with maybe 3 or 4 girls, and this was the first time a partner and I were simply anatomically incompatible. "I'll give you head though," she offered, crawling in between my slightly open legs. She took the condom off, and engulfed my cock head with her thin lips.

My thoughts shifted back towards the present, and my conversation with Ashley.

Me: And that intrigues you?

Ashley: It's always nice to be proven right.

Me: Proven right?

Ashley: Ok. Don't be mad. But a few weeks ago, before your match, you had a definite bulge going on. It looked thick.

Me: Oh. I'm not mad, I just, I don't know. What was the second?

Ashley: Well.... I don't know if I should say.

Me: Oh come on, I won't say anything to her.

Ashley: I'm not really worried about that....

Me: What are you worried about?

Ashley: Sounding like a slut

Me: No judgment, promise.

Ashley: Ok fine. But know this is the wine talking

Me: Deal

Ashley: She said that....

Ashley: She said when, you know, it was like a firehose. Her words.

Hannah was pretty a talented cocksucker, and I was pretty close already from how tight her pussy was. She was making quick work of me, and after a minute or two, I was exploding in her mouth, which eagerly swallowed what she could. She coughed a little and the rest seeped down her chin, my throbbing member still in her mouth.

"That's so much," she commented with a slight glare, unmistakably perturbed. Again, with porn being my only reference, I also thought I came a normal amount. No one had ever commented on it before, but I would later realize that I was solidly above average in this regard as well. And that not all girls thought cum was gross.

Me: I don't know if that's the right comparison

Ashley: She assured me. More than she could swallow. She said it was kinda gross

Me: And that's why it intrigued you?

Ashley: No

Me: Ok, then why

Ashley: I think that's hot.

Me: Really?

Ashley: Totally. I really shouldn't be saying this.

Me: It's ok, I just thought girls just tolerated it.

Ashley: I love it. Not a slut!

Me: I don't think you are. I just never heard that before.

Me: Ok, what's the last one?

Ashley: She wasn't a fan of your grooming. Or lack of grooming is probably a better way to put it.

Me: Oh? I mean I didn't really plan on getting with anyone that night....

Ashley: The last guy I was with was like a Ken doll.

I wondered if she was referring to my roommate John's younger brother Jake.

Me: And that's bad?

Ashley: I mean, whatever. I'm not a fan of the look

Me: Yeah, to each their own I guess

Ashley: So, you still didn't answer my question....

Me: What question?

Ashley: Did you enjoy, you know, what I showed you?

Me: Yes.

Ashley: I thought you might, when she mentioned how hairy you are

Me: You were testing me? And who says I still am?

Ashley: Not exactly. Just feeling you out. Are you?

Me: Lol, yes

Ashley: Mmmm, that's hot

Me: You're really into that?

Ashley: Yeah. Idk, it just looks better to me. Mature.

Ashley: And, well, I'd sorta feel like a hypocrite

Me: Why?

Ashley: Well, I clearly don't like shaving, so it wouldn't seem fair of me to expect everyone else to

Me: True....

Ashley: Lots of guys expect me to, though

Me: I wouldn't

Ashley: That's good to know :)

A minute or so passed, I feared the conversation was over. I desperately wanted to continue it.

Me: Ok, well I'm outed. I like a nice full bush

Ashley: You naughty boy. Since when?

Me: I don't really know. Since always? The first porn I ever got my hands on was from the 70s....

Ashley: Actually, same for me

Me: You look at porn?

Ashley: Not really no. But I found my dad's once.

Me: And that's why you like it?

Ashley: No, I stopped shaving before then. I did for a little in high school, I thought I should fit in.

Me: What changed?

Ashley: I never really liked it. It felt weird, and bumpy, and itchy.