For You, And No One Else, But Them

"I refused to spend another Valentine's Day alone in my dorm room eating chocolate that I stole from what my roommate's boyfriend got her," I said. My best friend Emma held the ladder as I taped more paper hearts to the dorm hallway. Every person walking by us was holding hands with their significant other. "Even Betty has a date for Valentine's Day, and she stabbed two guys last year."

"Yeah, but the rumor is she gives good head," Emma said below me.

I climbed down the ladder, deciding I was done decorating. "I'm not going to find a date taping paper cutouts to the wall, despite what my Mom claims. I might have to actually ask a guy out," I said, crumpling the paper cupid in my hand.

"Denise, it's noon on Valentine's Day. I think it might be a bit late for this. What if you work on getting a date for National Employee Appreciation Day on March first?" Emma suggested. Are you kidding me, Emma? Restaurants are already booked solid for that holiday. But it doesn't matter. I'm not giving up on getting a date for Valentine's," I said, slamming my fist into my open hand to emphasize my resolve.

Down the hall, I saw Edward Oswald, my long-term crush, and I became inspired. "I'm going to ask out Edward."

Emma looked up and saw me staring at him. "Good. You've been lusting after him ever since that time he laughed at you when you tripped into that tray of old clams in the cafeteria."

"God, his laugh was sexy. I still get wet every time I smell seafood" I shook my head. I needed to focus on actions. Another night masturbating to the eight pictures Edward had posted on his Facebook page wasn't going to get me a date with him, despite what my sexually open roommate claims. It was nice of my roommate to say I could masturbate while she was in the room, but it became weird when she started getting mad when I did it without her around.

"So go and ask him. He's just over there," Emma pointed out.

"Are you crazy, you dumb bitch," I said, using the nickname I use for Emma.

"I really hate it when you call me that, especially when you sign my name on group projects with those words. I had to repeat calculus as the records showed I hadn't completed the final project. Dumb Bitch though, got a solid B."

"And I've told you. In my family, you call the person you care about most 'dumb bitch.' I understand it has a different meaning to you, but to me, it's a term of love," I said, reminding her of this for the zillionth time. "Anyway, you can't just ask out a guy like Edward with nothing to bring him. This is Valentine's Day. I need to get him a card, chocolates, flowers and have a reservation for dinner ready to go."

"Those are things guys usually get girls for Valentine's. We girls have it easy. We just need to bring the tits and ass," Emma pointed out.

"That was true when our grandfathers took their dates to the racial exclusive sock hoop, but this is 2024. The rules have changed." I watched as Edward stood in the hallway and admired the Valentine's decorations we had been putting up. "But I can't just get him any old gifts. They need to be his favorites. But I don't know anything about him besides that he throws up when a girl trying to flirt with him smells like old clams. I need to gather information on him."

"Denise, is this going to be one of those times you highly overthink something and make an over-complicated plan with unforeseen consequences? Remember when you accidentally live-streamed that sorority house's shower to the entire internet for a month? All for a physics assignment?"

"I got a 72 on it, so I call that a win," I said. With how much those girls experimented with each other in the shower, I think it's fair to say they were going to end up doing porn at some point anyway.

"First, I need to know his favorite color. His academic advisor, if he is any good at his job, should know that. Next, his favorite flower. His best friend lives on the floor below ours. He should know."

"Why do you think his best friend will know his favorite kind of flower? Do you know mine?" Emma asked.

"What am I, your lesbian lover? I don't have a fucking clue. Anyway, I also need to know what chocolates he likes. His parents live in town here. I'll go to his Dad for that. Finally, where does he want to go to dinner? I'll go to his Fraternity brothers and ask them," I said, writing all this down.

"You said you didn't know anything about Edward yet know who his advisor is? You know where his parents live," Emma questioned. "Also, why don't you just ask one of those people all four questions. Why just ask each one question," Emma pointed out.

"Because, dumb bitch, it would be creepy to ask one person all those things. You need to spread it out so you seem crazy."

"Stop fucking calling me that, Denise!"

"Term of love, Emma. Term of love," I said, reminding her.

I looked back at Edward. He was in his fifth minute of admiring the pink heart I taped to the wall. "Edward is such an innocent, pure being. That's why I'd be perfect for him. I've never even kissed a man before, let alone been touched by any. I'm as pure as they come," I said softly.

"With the exception of the excessive masturbation you do," Emma replied.

"Well, of course, with that exception. I'm horny as hell all the time. Even innocent girls need to flick the bean." With my conversation with Emma ending as they typically do, with me admitting I'm horny, I made the walk to campus to find Edwards's academic advisor.

I lucked out and found Prof. Christian alone in his office. Knocking on the door, I let myself in. "Professor? I was hoping you could give me some information on a student you advise. Edward Oswald?"

He turned in his chair to address me. "I advise like 200 students. Also, as an adviser to a student, all that means is once a semester, they tell me what classes they want to take, and I nod and say some bullshit line about achieving excellence. Other than that, I don't know shit about students I advise," he admitted. Perfect, I thought. He'll know Edward's favorite color for sure.

The Professor typed something into his computer. "But I see you are correct. I am the adviser for Mr. Oswald. But the information is confidential. I'm not allowed to give it away. I'm sorry," he said.

"I understand," I said sadly. "I understand you will give me the information in exchange for seeing these puppies!" I pulled off my shirt, exposing my bra to the Professor. It had become evident that my only path forward to finding out what I needed to know about Edward was I would have to show off my body to him. Guys with boners will tell you anything you want to know.

"I've had plenty of college girls trade their bodies for improved grades. This is the first I've heard of a girl offering her body in exchange for information on someone else's grades. What do you want to know if Edward got a B in art appreciation? Cause I can tell you now he somehow didn't appreciate it enough and got a C, the moron."

"No, professor, what I need to know is much different than his grades," I replied, trying to do a seductive voice. It came out sounding like Ursula from the animated Little Mermaid movie. I reached behind my back and undid my bra hook. I paused momentarily and thought about what I was about to do. I was going to let this middle-aged college professor I had never met before be the first man to see my naked tits. Shouldn't I maybe let the man I love, Edward, be the first to see them? I can't undo this once I allow another man to see them. Perhaps I should slow things down and rethink what I'm doing.

Then my hand slipped, and my bra fell to the floor, revealing my naked boobs to him. Oh well, on with the plan. "Holy fuck, you are really going to do this? If you don't want to know his grades, what then? His planned graduation date?" The Professor asked with his eyes examining every inch of my breasts.

"That's not it either," I said, pulling down my pants.

"You know what. I'm just going to shut the fuck up and not question this anymore and just enjoy the show," he replied. I took a deep breath as my fingers found the top of my panties. I can do this. It's just showing off my pussy to a stranger old enough to be my Dad's age. "Are you okay? You don't have to do any of this. Whatever this is," the Professor questioned, noticing my nervousness. I then pulled down my panties in a swift motion, gasping as I felt the breeze from the fan in his office hit my bare pussy.

"Never mind then," he said, staring at my exposed pussy. "Jesus Christ, your pussy is soaked. Is this turning you on," he asked. He wasn't wrong. My pussy was dripping wet, but it was embarrassing for him to point it out.

"No! I mean, yes. I mean, shut up. You have no clue what it's like being a girl in her early twenties. I'm so horny all of the time. Everything that even kind of looks like a cock I think about putting in my pussy. My best friend has to keep her TV remote locked away from me," I complained.

"It sounds like you should go out and get laid," the Professor suggested, still staring at my pussy. I jumped up and stamped my feet on the ground, causing the Professor's eyes to quickly divert to my bouncing naked tits. "What the fuck do you think I'm trying to do. But it's so hard to get laid. There's so much information gathering and side quests you have to do before you can ask a guy out. It sucks," I bemoaned.

"Lady, are you an idiot? Just show the guy your naked body, and he'll fuck you right then and there. I'd try to fuck you right now if I hadn't just used my last condom on a girl this morning trying to get a C on her last quiz." Typical boomer, I thought. They think you can just walk into a company and get hired or walk up to a guy naked and get laid.

I was getting distracted. I wasn't here to shame his generation but to learn what I needed about Edward. I wasn't willing to fuck him for the information. That's slut behavior, and I needed to stay pure for my love. So, instead, I was going to masturbate on his desk for him. I walked up to his desk and pushed the large piles of papers onto the floor, clearing the surface. "Well, that will take me all night to sort. Thanks for that," he mumbled. I spread my legs widely in front of him and started masturbating. He stopped mumbling about the papers.

I had never pleasured myself in front of someone else before. Not counting my roommate, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend's friends. But I took comfort in the fact that if I was good at anything, it was getting myself off. Using my standard technique, I penetrated myself with four fingers that moved easily in and out of my pussy due to the moisture the Professor had drawn attention to earlier. I gave my other hand a lick and then used it to rapidly rub my clit. In less than ten seconds, I was already in a state of pleasure. I was really getting into the Valentine's Day spirit.

My ass began to twitch as the feelings grew more intense, and my moans echoed around the office. It was then a voice at the door said, "Professor, I have a question... Oh, I'm sorry I didn't realize you were already with a student. I'll wait outside the door."

"Thank you, Lauren. It shouldn't be much longer, I think she's about to cum. And can you please close the door," Professor Christian replied. I was disappointed to hear that the expectation was I would only masturbate to a single orgasm. But that was probably for the best, as I still had much to do.

With the distraction gone, I focused on finger blasting my pussy as hard as I could. Soon, sexual images popped into my head of Edward making out with me, Edward plowing my mound, me masturbating on top of a professor's desk, and Emma's TV remotes. I went silent, and my face contorted as waves of pleasure emanated from my pussy to all parts of my body. I fell over to my side on the desk, trying to catch my breath as my legs still shook in ecstasy.

My mind was foggy. Why did I just cum in this guy's office? Something about art appreciation? Then, my mind became focused, and I sat up. "Tell me what Edward's favorite color is. You just became the first man to see my naked body, so I think it's fair you tell me this," I blurted out.

Professor Christian stared at me with blank eyes for a while. Finally, he turned to his computer and typed some information in before telling me, "His favorite color is carbon gray. Do not tell anyone I told you that," the Professor said, getting another good look at my heaving tits.

I smiled and slid off the very moistened desk. I had gotten one-quarter of the information I needed, and it only cost me showing my naked body off. I was still innocent and pure enough for my dear Edward, I thought as I bent over to pick up my panties. After getting dressed, I headed out the door. "Happy Valentine's Day, professor! I hope you get laid!"

Outside the office, I found the female student from before waiting. "Just so you know, for next time, office hours officially start at 1," she told me as she turned on the vibrator she held and headed into the Professor's office.

On the way back to the dorm, I stopped in the corner market to find a Valentine's Day card with Edward's favorite color, carbon grey. Unfortunately, not a single one had any color, even close to that, so I got him a pink and white one instead. The poem on it read,

I'd do anything to make you mine, I'd climb a tree, Swing on a vine, I'd bungee jump, Get stung by bees, Be my Valentine, oh please!

The poem was cute but didn't give the exact message I wanted to give Edward. I got a pen out and replaced a few words so that the poem now read:

I'd do anything to fuck you, I'd climb your cock, Swing on your dick, I'd bungee jump with your penis if you're into that, Anal? Be my Valentine, oh please! Or at least make me your cum dumpster!

Perfect! I finished it by signing my name with a heart over the 'i ' in Denise. One gift down, now on to the next.

I was heading to the dorm room of Edward's best friend, Lane. He had to be able to tell me what Edward's favorite kind of flower is. After climbing the stairs to his floor, I found he wasn't in his room. His roommate told me he had just headed to the floor's communal showers. This isn't good. I was already behind schedule. Or at least assumed if I had made one, I would be. I slowly walked down the hall, thinking about what I could do. What if I visit Edward's father and come back here later? Maybe Emma is correct, and Edward is a guy who doesn't care about getting flowers. I shook my head no. That dumb bitch doesn't know what she is talking about. I shouldn't take the advice from anyone who doesn't know 'dumb bitch' is something you say to someone you love.

I realized my aimless walking had taken me right in front of the men's shower room on the floor. Taking it as a sign from King Valentines himself, or whatever horny bastard this holiday is named after, I knew what I had to do. I stripped down to my underwear and entered the shower. What first struck me was the guy's shower room was fully open. There were no individual stalls for people to shower privately like in the girl's shower room. This raised so many questions for me. Do the guys just masturbate in clear view of each other while they shower? It's normal to masturbate every time you shower like I do, right?

What struck me second was seeing a dozen guys' naked, wet cocks dangling off their tight bodies. I had never seen a single penis in real life, and now I was seeing so many at once. I was like a whore in a cock store. It took a couple of minutes, but finally, one of the guys showering noticed the woman in her underwear staring at their dicks. "Whoa. What have we here? Can I help you miss? Something catching your eye," one of the cocks, I mean men, said.

"Oh, sorry. Ummm, there was a huge line for the girl's masturbation stalls, I mean showers. So I figured I come in here and get wet," I said smoothly and totally not embarrassing myself.

"There's an empty showerhead right next to me, hottie," a guy across the room said. It was Lane, Edward's best friend and the guy I was here to see. I walked over and took the shower next to him.

"Thanks for giving me head. I mean the shower head. I don't have a penis...," I said, further cementing myself as sounding cool as fuck. I turned on the water and stepped into the stream, enjoying the feeling of warm water running over my body. I kept repeating, 'Don't start masturbating subconsciously, don't start masturbating subconsciously' in my head.

"Why are you showering in your underwear? Are you like the girl version of those weird guys who shower in their swim trunks," Lane asked me.

"No. It's just I'm not keen on showing off my naked body to a dozen naked guys in the showers."

"That's exactly what those weird guys in swim trunks say," another guy said, causing all dozen men to burst out laughing. I expected a lot of different things could happen when taking a shower with a bunch of naked men, but getting bullied was not one of them.

"You guys are just trying to get me to show you my tits is all. Not happening," I said right before I caught my hand creeping towards my crotch.

"She's got crooked nipples, probably," one of them suggested.

"Crooked what," a guy whose cock I happened to be staring at asked.

"Crooked nipples. It's when one of her boob's nipples points in a completely different direction. When she's topless, her boobs look like googly eyes."

"Yep, that's got to be it. She's got messed up nipples." I grunted in anger.

"Again, you are just trying to get me to take my top off to prove you are wrong. Not. Going. To. Happen," I yelled.

The guys were silent for a bit after that. "Her boobs are probably just meh anyway," someone commented.

I pulled my bra off and slammed it on the ground. "Fuck you! Do these tits look meh to you?" The guys all turned and stared at the sight of my wet topless self. Soon, I was in a shower filled with a dozen very erect men. I was like a whore in a higher-quality cock store. One of the guys became a bit self-conscious about his erection.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said, covering his hard dick with both of his hands, "I know you didn't come in here to get stared at... what are you doing?" I pulled my panties off and stood utterly naked now in the shower.

"Taking off my underwear. I don't want to be like those weird guys who shower in swim trunks. Besides, you've already seen my tits. Seeing a girl's pussy is nothing compared to that, right?"

After a couple more minutes of erect cock watching, I spent a few more minutes trying to remember why I was showering naked with a dozen men. Flowers, I remembered. But I couldn't just ask Lane what flowers his best friend likes. That would be weird. I took a different, more subtle approach.

"Hey Lane, if I blow you right here and now, will you agree you owe me a favor," I told him.

"I agree to those terms," he responded immediately. I smiled and got on my knees, putting my face inches away from his cock. I wrapped both my hands around it and gasped at how awesome it felt. I had seen so, so, so many pictures of dicks. I finally got a chance to touch one, and it didn't disappoint. Not only that, I was going to taste one as well. But I paused. Was blowing a guy to get another guy to go on a Valentine's date with me a logical move? A girl giving her first blow job should be a very special occasion. I wasn't sure if blowing a guy you just in a dirty communal shower while eleven other guys watch really counts as special.

It was then I realized I had subconsciously already had his cock in my mouth. It was so fucking awesome I felt so dumb for even considering not doing it. I used one hand to slide up and down the upper part of his shaft while my other hand massaged his balls. My lips slowly ran up and down him while my tongue simultaneously licked every inch it could reach. I wanted to fill as much of my mouth as possible with the salty taste of his cock.