Feet on the Ceiling Pt. 01

With much appreciation to LarryInSeattle and his editorial toolkit.

* *** *

She had dated Kevin, my best friend in college, when they were in high school. They had broken up before he graduated, but this past year she had made the five-hour drive from her college several times to visit him over the weekend and party with other folks they both knew. She always slept in his dorm room on her visits.

"Krysten is pretty hot, man," he confided more than once when we'd talked about the women we had been with. At that point I hadn't met her, but I had heard plenty.

"So she was one of those sexy, slutty girls back in high school?" I asked, invoking the standard high school guy's fantasy.

"No, dude, we never did it in high school. We just made out and, ya know, did a little feeling and stuff."

"You can't tell me that's all you've been doing in your dorm room when she visited you twice this past semester," I countered.

"I didn't say that," he laughed. "Sometime since we broke up and that first visit, she had her cherry popped and I think she's making up for lost time."

"The sex is pretty hot, eh?"

He made a silly, devilish face. "It usually is—if you do it right!" He continued, "When she visits she wants it a lot. That last Saturday night we did it twice and I was exhausted and dozed off. She woke me up an hour later, trying to make me hard again."

"And, you being the gentleman, obviously gave in to her desires," I said.

"Nah," Kevin replied. "We had done it that afternoon before we went out and then two more times before bed. I was done for the night. But, man, she woke me up again a couple of hours later, stroking my cock again!"

"So...then you gave it to her again?"

"Nah, man, I probably offended her or something—she can be touchy like that—but I rolled over and went back to sleep. I was too tired to function."

My sex-addled 20-year-old mind absorbed what he'd said and processed it for several weeks after that. I hadn't had much sexual expertise in those days. Most of my experience had come from one-night stands and involved goodly amounts of alcohol. What I learned about myself from the eighteen one-nighters and brief flings I'd managed to have with women—despite the fact that I had no "game" and was as far from a "smooth operator" like Kevin as you could get—was that I was noticeably above the average in terms of the size of my equipment and, especially, in terms of stamina. When I was with a woman who stirred my fires, I could just keep getting hard. I can still remember numerous times in my youth when I screwed a woman three, four, or even five times in a night and would get another hard-on, but be too tired to move. To be fair, the woman was usually too tired to move much at that point either.

Never even having laid eyes on her, I wondered if this Krysten's appetite for sex might match my own.

I met her about a month later at a cookout. She was visiting Kevin and he brought her along. I liked her. She was smart. She was awkward when she tried to be funny, which made what she said funnier than her delivery warranted—and I found it charming. Her hair was a golden blonde and her hand, when I shook it, was tiny and very soft. I certainly noted her large breasts and the big, round bubble of her ass that dominated her short frame. It jutted outward from her wide, chubby hips in a way I've since heard described as 'swaybacked.' Her ass turned me on. The strongest memory I have of that afternoon, however, is of her eyes, her absolutely huge, crazily-blue eyes. She wore too much mascara, sure, but her eyes were so expressive and so dominated her face that they were her best feature, by far.

Her personality was a bit mercurial, perhaps slightly manic. She smiled a lot—maybe a little too much, but she was meeting lots of strangers. And she seemed to be having a lot of fun at the cookout. She said she hated beer, but it was the only alcohol we had and she drank more than a few. She was plump and curvy and vivacious, and I knew I wanted to sleep with her.

As we headed into finals week that semester, Kevin started getting signals from Wanda, a gorgeous brunette he'd been putting the moves on for a several weeks. Krysten, her semester over, had announced she was moving to our college town and would arrive on the Friday of finals week. Kevin was worried about being put into an awkward situation by having too much of a good thing and I jokingly offered to take one of the lovely ladies off of his hands.

Then I got a little more serious, "Really, man, how serious are things between you and Krysten?"

He knew what I was asking and smiled. "We don't have a commitment like that. We're just friends who like to fuck when we get together. I haven't told her that I'm hoping to be with Wanda—I dearly want wicked little Wanda in my bed—but I don't think Krysten will mind, but sometimes she gets...I don't know...offended at things. If you wind up with her at any point, try not to piss her off."

My code of honor, such as it was, was satisfied. Kevin, who needed time to study that Friday night for his last exam on Saturday morning, helped arrange to have Krysten join a group of mutual friends I was going out with that night.

I walked from my dorm to the bar. Krysten arrived with, of all people, Wanda, who had needed a ride. Krysten and I almost immediately formed our own little world of two and tuned out much of the rest of our group as we flirted and bought each other drinks. At one point, she sat on my knee and put her small, warm hand on my thigh. My excitement rose.

"Let's go play in the fountains," she suggested, referring to the elaborate public fountains downtown that college students often frequented in warm weather. She told Wanda on our way out the door that we wouldn't be gone long, promising to stop back by when we were done at the fountains to give her a ride home if she still needed it.

Suffice it to say that we got soaking wet playing in the fountains. We had only intended to roll up our jeans and put in our feet, but things happened. We wound up making out as we stood in a fountain that couldn't be seen from the street. I pawed her breast and she suddenly pulled me tighter. Our wet clothes held the chill of the night air, but I was feeling warm all over.

"Let's go back to my room," I told her, trying to sound suave and forceful.

"But I told Wanda I'd give her a ride..."

"To hell with Wanda," I shot back and I grabbed her big, firm ass and squeezed it as I kissed her hard again. Her ass more than filled my large hands and I kneaded the flesh as best I could through her wet jeans.

"Okay!" she said, Wanda easily forgotten. (I found out later that Krysten also knew Wanda from high school and hadn't really liked her.)

In her car, I felt her up through her wet clothes as she drove us back to my dorm room. Once inside, I kissed her some more before we helped each other out of our wet things. I had my first look at her body then. She was a little chubby, with wide, soft hips and fleshy thighs. The word that came to mind for her breasts was "boobs". They were large and pendulous; her nipples pointed not quite at the ground—but, oh, those nipples. Her areolae were medium brown and one nipple protruded fatly from its areola nearly two-thirds of an inch. Her other was an "innie" and I actually had to stop myself from shouting "Popeye!" and ruining the lusty mood. (I'm not lying when I say my social skills in intimate moments left something to be desired.)

I took her naked into my arms. We were both chilly after the ride in the wet clothes, but began warming up as we kissed and touched. After shuffling our way to the 3^rd-hand couch Kevin had helped me drag up two flights of stairs the previous year, we sat and I fingered her while sucking those beautiful nipples. In my mouth, the "innie" popped out as I sucked and was fatter and longer than the other. Her tiny hands were warm and so soft on my cock.

She looked me in the eye with those overwhelmingly large, crystal-blue peepers and nodded with a smile when I suggested we get into bed.

My bed was a mattress atop a loft that was maybe three feet from the ceiling. Some previous occupant had constructed it and having the bed up here opened up a lot of floor space. I followed her up the ladder, my nose very near her naked ass, and took in the smell of her arousal.

At the top of the ladder, she mounted the mattress and rolled to her back. I very much enjoyed watching her do this. I climbed onto the mattress and spread her legs, lowering my face to her hairy cunt. I started to lick, to taste her, but she nudged me upward and said, "Come here."

"What...?" I tried to ask.

"That's never really done it for me."

I was actually a bit relieved because cunnilingus wasn't my strong suit—especially with fleshy women because I sometimes got the sensation of being suffocated, to which I had a strong aversion.

We kissed wetly as I mauled her big, soft boobs and played with her incredible nipples. I had never gotten as turned on from sucking a woman's nipples as I did from sucking Krysten's. They were enthralling. I pulled my mouth off of one and asked, "Does this do it for you?" She just chuckled and pulled my head over to the other one and shoved it into my mouth.

After a few more minutes of feeling me work her nipples over with my tongue, she grabbed my cock more firmly and began to pull me into position, spreading her legs wider as she did so. I moved up from her breasts and felt my cockhead begin to enter her slick softness. As I pushed deeper, I watched her face. Her huge eyes were closed and her mouth was open. It opened wider as I went farther into her, suddenly closing when I brushed past her cervix and bottomed out.

I started off with slow, short strokes, enjoying the liquid sensation of being inside her. It wasn't long before both of our movements became more urgent and my ears were filled with the sounds of two people breathing loudly and the slapping of flesh on flesh. I hadn't asked her about birth control and so whispered/grunted into her ear, "You on the pill?"

"Yeah!"

With that niggling worry off my mind, I really began to pound into her as I held myself above her with my extended arms. I liked the rhythmic little "uh-uh" noises she started to make. I really loved watching her soft, floppy boobs wobble all over the place. We had been going at it for a more-than-respectable amount of time when instinct took over and I began to roughly thrust into that wet hole. My balls tightened up and I erupted, my every thrust shooting a jet of cum into her, until I rolled off of her and onto my side.

I didn't speak. I just leaned over and sucked on those fantastic nipples again. The "innie" had started to retreat, so I had to bring it out to play again. Just a few minutes later I moved atop her and kissed her again—every bit as hard as I had been earlier—and pushed my still-hard dick back into her. Those oversized eyes popped open and I just smiled down at her. Her eyes closed and she adjusted her hips a bit to receive my thrusts.

"Mmmmmmmm," she purred.

She wrapped her legs tightly around my ass at first and it felt great, like she was pulling me in because she couldn't get enough of what I was giving her. After a while she seemed to just relax into the feeling of me riding her and her short legs splayed widely into the air.

I wiggled my hips, circling them round to explore her interior with my thrusting cock. It was incredible! I can't say I remembered the exact feel of every woman I'd been inside of, but where the others had felt merely fantastic, Krysten felt perfect. The taste of her flesh on my tongue and the scent of her called out to me in a way no other woman's had.

It was while I reveled in the feeling of being insider her that her hips shifted once more, allowing me to stoke more deeply into her. I also noticed that her legs had changed position. I glanced out of the corner of my eye and saw that she had placed her feet up onto the ceiling. It gave her some traction to better control her hips and meet my thrusts more firmly.

I normally don't make much noise during sex, but I think I might have roared as I firmly fucked her and she fucked me back. We moved together almost violently. When I finally came again, I didn't just feel like I was letting my cum loose into her; it felt like wanted my juice so badly that she was pumping even harder than I was to pull it from my cock.

When my hips finally stopped thrusting of their own accord, I more or less collapsed onto her. We were covered in sweat and panting heavily, exhausted. She took her feet off of the ceiling and wrapped her legs around me again and wrapped her arms around me too. Tightly bound in her limbs and still buried inside her, I sighed with great contentment.

"You feel so good," she murmured. "I don't wanna move. Can we can go to sleep like this?"

"I'm game," I whispered back. "Good night."

She chuckled a bit at my lame joke and I chuckled back and kissed her neck. Nevertheless, sleep took us as I lay atop her.

We could fall asleep in that position, it turns out. But we couldn't stay sleeping like that. An hour later, I woke and found myself with my erect cock pressed between the cheeks of her ass as we spooned. I idly fingered her nipples for a bit before moving down to stroke the part of her pussy I could reach from that position. After just a few minutes, she spread her legs to give me better access and purred when I began to take advantage of it.

Her hips began to wiggle a bit when she reached over and found my fully hard cock. She stroked me as I teased her slit. The flesh of her cunt felt swollen under my fingers. I had ridden her twice already and roughly. She was again wonderfully wet. She spread her legs wide and began pulling my cock towards her. I had to roll off of my side and onto her because to me, her pull was irresistible.

She pulled me right into her hole and we screwed again, her feet on the ceiling once more. Then we fell asleep again.

Two hours later, I woke up hard and persuaded her pussy to wake her up once more. We fucked again.

In the morning we slept in—until my hard-on woke me and hormones manipulated my mind into disturbing her slumber. We screwed once more before she left.

* *** *

It turns out that Wanda hadn't needed that ride home after all. She wound up walking to Kevin's dorm room to "help him study." Krysten arrived at Kevin's room that next morning to find him still entertaining Wanda and they went to an awkward brunch together: Kevin, his wannabe girlfriend, and his sometimes fuck buddy.

The next day, I packed up my dorm room in preparation to move back into my parents' house. I was happy to only be staying at home for the two weeks before the dorm reopened. That night I had a date with Martha, a slender, very pale sophomore with white-blonde hair, with whom I'd had several classes and had been on two dates but hadn't taken things very far.

After dinner and a movie, Martha and I found ourselves parked in a dark, secluded spot. Out of nowhere she became a wild woman—at least in comparison to our previous dates. When I leaned over and brushed my lips against hers, she threw her arms around my neck and crushed her mouth against mine. She levered open my lips with a surprisingly strong tongue. This was far beyond the light kissing she had allowed me on our first or second date.

Pushing my luck, I began to run my hands over her small chest. I shifted her in order to reach and caress her ass. We wound up sucking face in several positions within the tight confines of my car, but three things remained constant:

1) the crazy, sometimes uncomfortable, tongue Olympics that she endlessly performed deep inside my mouth,

2) the fact that her shirt remained firmly tucked into her khaki shorts, keeping my hands from feeling her tiny breasts or her sex except through two layers of infuriating cloth,

3) and the painful erection in my pants that she wouldn't touch, although she couldn't miss it pressed against her as we canoodled.

I was ready to explode from nearly thirty minutes of this treatment when Martha pulled her tongue out of my mouth and abruptly said, "I need to get back now. My parents are coming to get me early in the morning for church."

The dashboard clock said 10:02, but I didn't try to argue. I knew that I might die of blue balls if we kept at it any longer. I returned her to her dorm, where she gave me a chaste, closed-mouth kiss for the benefit of anyone watching in the well-lit parking lot. Then, I returned to mine. I contemplated self-pleasure while I unlocked my door.

The phone rang.

"Yeah," I answered. Perhaps I was a bit rude, but I was sexually frustrated and somebody was calling me after ten o'clock at night.

"Hey, it's me," said a woman's voice.

"Who?" I asked, slightly confused.

"Umm...Krysten," came the reply.

That changed everything. My sullen mood evaporated. "Hey!" I said. "How are you? What's up?" I wondered if she could hear through the phone the 180° turn in my attitude when I heard her name.

"Can I ask a favor?" she asked.

"I think so," I said. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, well I was planning to stay in Kevin's room tonight, but it looks like he and Wanda want some 'alone time'."

"Oh, sure. You can absolutely crash here," I told her, my spirit rising as I recalled the smell of her and anticipated the touch of her skin.

"Okay, thanks! I remember where you are. Can I come over now?"

I almost screamed 'YES!' but managed to keep my composure. "Yeah, I just got back in myself and now's as good a time as any. Come on over."

There was a long-ish pause as she added with some hesitation, "Um, you know, I had a good time last night... Well, I'm kind of desperate for a place to stay, but don't expect you to do anything else if you don't want to...uh...you know."

I'd never been told by a woman that I didn't have to worry about her making me feel obligated to have sex with her if I let her into my dorm room. She was quite sincere and it was charming beyond belief. "Come on over now and don't worry about that," I told her. I'll leave the door unlocked and I'll be up in the loft. I wouldn't mind sharing it with you again. You're welcome to the sofa too, if that's what you want."

She arrived about five minutes later and knocked. "Come in," I told her and she did. It was a little surreal. I couldn't see her. She stood out of view, directly beneath the loft as we chatted about the awkward time she had spent with Kevin and Wanda. My heart sank at the sound of her sitting on the sofa, and then I heard her shoes drop to the floor as she removed them while we talked. I could hear the soft rustling of her clothes as she undressed for bed.

I had trouble keeping up my end of the small talk as my heart pounded in my chest. Why the hell had I opened my big mouth and told her she could sleep on the sofa if she wanted? What if she mistook my meaning and actually stayed down there? I hadn't believed in a God since I was small, but I did something silently prayer-like. Please, I implored the universe; don't let her sleep on that sofa tonight.

"Is it okay if I turn off this lamp," she asked. "I have trouble sleeping if there's too much light."

"I only left it on for you, so you wouldn't bump around into things in the dark when you got here."

I heard the creaking of the wooden ladder as she climbed it and felt an incredible happiness. "I don't know...I had a pretty good time bumping into things in the dark in here last night," she said as she crawled naked up onto the mattress and I lifted the blanket. The feel of her soft skin on mine was the equal of all the blessings of anybody's heaven.

"Kevin said you had a big date tonight. So, did you get lucky?" she asked.