Julius and Me Ch. 04

It was on Monday morning, nine days after that incredible Saturday night (which was already starting to seem like some crazy porn fantasy that had happened to someone else, not me), that someone shuffled hesitantly into my office.

It was Dontae.

A little shudder ran through me when I saw him. The reality of what I'd done with him and his teammates suddenly flooded back to me, and I remembered every cock that had poked and prodded me--one, two, or three at a time--during those three or four hours. What did he want? A "private show" all to himself? Was he going to blackmail me into servicing him? He didn't seem the type, but who knew?

"Hello, Dontae," I said.

"Hi, ma'am," he said.

After an awkward little silence, I said, "What can I do for you?"

That may not have been the best choice of words, but they'd come out before I had a chance to think of their implications.

He looked down at his hands, then raised his head up to me, a rather pathetic look of longing on his face. "Oh, ma'am," he cried, "I miss you!"

I closed my eyes. Then, sitting down at my desk and gesturing to him that he should sit in the hard wooden chair next to the desk, I said, "Dontae, I understand what you're going through. They say a woman never forgets her first, um, encounter, but maybe men don't either. It's all very natural--but you know very well we can't do it again. We certainly can't have any sort of real relationship."

"I know," he said glumly, looking at his hands again. "You're Julius's girl."

I bridled at that. "I'm not his 'girl' or anyone else's."

He gazed over at me as if I'd denied that the earth was round. "But--but he's living in your house, isn't he?"

"Yes--but only till he graduates. That'll be in a few months."

"But he--and you--"

"Yes, of course we are." Of course he's in my bed every night. "But I'm not sure how long that's going to last either. My understanding is that he'll get drafted by some NFL team and then go off somewhere, maybe to the other side of the country." I knew enough about football to be aware of the upcoming NFL Draft, where the thirty-odd professional teams offer hot-shot college players oodles of money to bang heads with one another.

"He thinks the world of you," Dontae insisted. "He wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

"I know that, and I think a lot of him too. He--he's certainly a refreshing man to have in my life. But I just don't see--" I shook my head, as if to get the cobwebs out. "Look, Dontae, we're not here to talk about Julius and me. We need to figure out what to do about you. You really should find a girl of your own age. There are plenty of nice, pretty girls on campus here, and lots of them will fall all over you because you're an athlete--and you have a lot more to offer them than that."

It's hard to tell when a Black man is blushing, but Dontae clearly was. "Thank you, ma'am. But I don't know how to talk to girls."

"It's not that hard, Dontae. Just be interested in their lives and their feelings and things like that. Maybe you've spent most of your life around guys, but women aren't strange creatures from outer space. They're people, just like you."

He shook his head, as if despairing of ever having the skill or the sophistication to woo a female.

A thought suddenly shot into my head.

"Listen, Dontae," I said, "there's a girl I know--her name is Tricia--and I think you'd really go for her, and she for you. She's white, but that doesn't matter, does it?"

"No, ma'am. Not to me."

"And not to her, either. I'll add that she's had a certain amount of experience with men, but I don't think she's with anyone right now."

"How do you know her?"

"She's taken a couple of classes with me. We've almost become friends, even though she's still an undergraduate. A junior, I think."

"Way smarter than me," he said, as if that was another excuse for not making a move on her.

"I don't know about that. Anyway, even if she is, you have a lot of other things to your credit. She's pretty and lively and just the faintest bit sarcastic, but she has a good heart. I'm sure she'll go for you."

Dontae was massively skeptical, but said nothing.

"Look," I persisted, "here's her phone number. Give her a call. Meanwhile I'll call her and tell her to expect to hear from you. Just go out with her once or twice--if you don't hit it off, well, no harm done. You'll have gotten some experience. There are plenty of other fish in the sea."

I practically had to force him to take the scrap of paper on which I'd scribbled Tricia's cellphone number. He shoved it into his pocket, and I wondered if he'd discard it the moment he left my office.

I thought he'd just get up and leave, but he remained seated--and gave me that yearning look again.

"Something else the matter?" I said, although I was beginning to sense his difficulty.

"I'm . . . sort of uncomfortable, ma'am," he said.

I was confused for a moment--then looked down at his groin, and I understood.

"Yes," I said slowly, "I see that you are." Quietly and sharply I went on: "Just close the door."

The office was very small, and it took him little effort to extend an arm and shut the door. I knelt down in front of him and began unbuttoning his fly. It was pretty hard to pull the zipper down on those tight jeans, but I managed; and then I fished out his fairly sizable cock from out of his underwear. It was certainly big--and uncomfortable-looking.

With a sigh of weariness (the things I do to please my men!) I stuffed it into my mouth.

I have to say, it tasted good. It was about two inches shorter than Julius's monster apparatus, but at eight inches it was nothing to sneeze at. But I managed to get more than half of it into my mouth with ease. As my head bobbed up and down on it, Dontae put one hand on the top of my head and with the other stroked my cheek gently. What a sweet boy! As I worked faster and faster, I could tell that his built-up excitement--God only knows how long he'd been walking around with that boner before he drifted into my office--would make him explode in fairly short order.

And he did. His discharge foamed out of his cock in long, thick streams and went past my teeth, struck the top of my palate, and landed right on my tongue as I kept on with my sucking and licking. Somehow I felt the need to drain him to the last drop: I'd really developed some tender feelings for this naïve man-boy whose virginity I'd taken, and I wanted to give him as much pleasure as I could in these confined quarters.

At last his emission was over, and I made sure to let it all slide down my throat. Then I got up, picked up a bottle of water, and chugged a few gulps to clear my throat. A woman doesn't want to have come on her breath, does she? He was just gaping at me as if I was some sort of miracle worker. I smiled out of the corner of my mouth and said, "You'd better put that thing back into your pants. And make sure to give Tricia a call."

He folded his cock into his underwear, zipped himself up, and stumbled out of the place.

I could have predicted that he wouldn't call Tricia. I'd given her the heads-up about him almost the moment he'd left my office, but a week later she called me back and said, "Your friend hasn't gotten in touch."

I was momentarily confused. "My friend? Who--?"

"Dontae," Tricia said. "The football player."

"Oh, yes," I said, a flush coming over my face. If Tricia ever knew--

She went on to say, "Remind me how you know him? Did he take a class with you?"

"Well, no," I said evasively, "but a friend of his did. So I got acquainted with him that way."

There was a deep silence at the other end of the line. No doubt Tricia was wondering what I was doing establishing social contacts with undergraduates on the football team.

"Well, he hasn't called," she said with some irritation. I could tell what was going through her mind: I'm a pretty sensational girl--so what's with the hesitation by this guy?

"Do you want to call him?" I said desperately. I didn't even have his number, but I figured I could get it easily enough.

"Why are you so keen on having us meet, Sandra?" Tricia said. She was no dummy--she could tell the whole situation was really peculiar. And she did call me by my first name. I didn't mind: "Professor Osborne" sounds so stuffy and formal.

"I--I just think you'd make a good couple."

"Oh, so you want us to be a couple already?"

"No, no, I don't mean that." I paused. "You're not seeing anyone right now, are you? I mean, on a regular basis?"

"No, not at the moment. In fact, I was taking a little break from men for a while. They've been getting a little too clingy lately, if you know what I mean."

My heart sank a bit. Dontae could probably be very clingy, especially since he'd never had a girlfriend before.

"Just give him a try, okay?" I pleaded. "I'll get you his phone number."

And I did. I called Julius at once, and he passed it on without delay. I conveyed it to Tricia.

I heard they'd set up a date for the end of the week--Friday night. That sounded promising.

Saturday, around 1 p.m., Tricia showed up at my house with a knowing smirk on her face.

"What's up?" I said, letting her in.

"Oh," she said with faux informality, "I thought I'd give you the lowdown on what happened with Dontae and me."

"So you saw him last night?"

Her smirk broadened into a full-scale grin. "You might say that."

I frowned at her. Surely they hadn't--?

"You'd better sit down here," I ordered, gesturing toward the sofa, "and tell me exactly what happened."

"Okay, Sandra, but it's kind of a long story. Here goes."

And this is what she said.

We agreed to meet at that pizza place--Mario's--just off campus. I'm sure you know of it, Sandra. It's a pretty informal place, and lots of people are usually there, so it seemed like a good place for a getting-to-know-you session.

I met him outside--and immediately liked what I saw. He looked scrumptious! I hadn't been with too many Black guys, but I'd been impressed with nearly all the ones I'd been with--and Dontae was better than most. I don't need to describe his physique--that nearly six-foot-tall frame, robust musculature all over, and that really nice face--full of character. A good face is very important to me, and I'm sorry to say that most white guys are pretty blah in that department. But not Dontae!

And I hoped he liked what he saw. What was not to like in a perky, five-foot-four, blond-haired, blue-eyed curvy white girl full of spunk and vigor? I could have sworn his eyes got big when he first laid eyes on me--and then he looked away as if embarrassed.

That became--to my annoyance--the theme of the evening. You'd told me he was a bit on the shy side, and I usually like that in guys: it's so refreshing from the smug, arrogant attitude of most men around here, from undergraduates to professors. But you hadn't let me know how super-shy he was!

I could hardly get a word out of him for the first hour or so of our date. Even when the pizza arrived, I thought the heavenly aroma of all those luscious ingredients would at least stimulate his appetite, but he barely managed to nibble on a slice or two. And Dontae had a real hard time looking me in the face--it was almost as if it was too painful for him to glance in my direction! I'd never seen anything like it. I wouldn't even have minded if he'd stared openly at my chest (yes, I was wearing a tank top that didn't leave much to the imagination). At least that would have meant he liked something about me. But no--there was nothing like that.

I only got the barest outlines of his family life (he comes from a small town up north, has a couple of brothers and sisters, and so on) and what he's interested in. He says he doesn't have a chance of making it as a professional football player, like his friend Julius, so he hopes he'll find a good job after graduating.

But when I finally pressured him to tell me what he was actually studying, he came out with: "Chemistry."

I grabbed his arm and said, "Are you kidding me?"

He looked at that arm in some kind of horror, as if my touch would cause blisters to break out over his skin. "Wh-what's the matter?" he muttered.

"Nothing's the matter!" I almost shouted. "The fact is, my man, you may be my savior!"

He sat looking pathetically puzzled until I explained.

"Look, Dontae, I'm a junior, just like you. It only occurred to me recently that I need a year of science to graduate. I took a silly little 'Environmental Science' class as a freshman, but that was only for a semester. So now I've enrolled this semester in a Chemistry class--and, Jesus, it's way above my head! I'm a humanities person, and a real dope about science."

"I'm sure that's not true," he said gallantly.

"It is true. Anyway, the point is, I'm totally floundering in this class, and you gotta help me!"

A look of wonder came over his face. "Really? Could I help?"

"Sure you can!"

Then he scowled at me. "I'm not gonna do your work for you."

"No, no, nothing like that. I just need help with some basic concepts. The lab work is okay--it's this damn textbook that's the problem, not to mention the professor. He seems to think everyone should know the stuff already. But if we did, why the hell would we be taking the class?

"So hurry up and finish," I concluded. "We're going back to my place and hit the books."

I hadn't thought that this blind date would turn into a study date, but Dontae's knowledge of chemistry was too good to waste. I didn't know how much he knew, but he couldn't possibly know less than I did.

We split the bill and I ushered him out of the place, taking his arm in mine. I led him back to my crappy little apartment. It's better than a dorm, but only just. As soon as I got him in there, I got out my textbook and showed it to him. He nodded to himself, as if he recognized it. That was a good sign! So we sat on the bed (there was no other place--the desk was too small for two people) and got down to business.

Sandra, you won't believe the transformation in Dontae once we started studying. This guy's a natural teacher, and all his shyness fell off of him like a cloak as he patiently and carefully taught me how chemistry worked. He said his parents had given him a chemistry set when he was a kid, and he must have worked hard at it--and no doubt had a lot of fun. Well, all that knowledge came to good use when it came to stuffing my head with the material.

There was one time when I got a bit frustrated--I just couldn't understand what the textbook was trying to say. I cried out, "I'm just not getting this, Dontae! Either this is really hard or I'm just stupid!"

He kind of froze, and then he took me by the shoulders and gave me a little shake. "Don't you ever say that again," he said almost menacingly. "You're not stupid: you're the brightest person I've ever met, except for a professor--I mean, some professors here."

He was actually angry that I'd dissed myself. This time I was the one to look away from him, as if he was a stern parent chastising a disobedient daughter. "I'm sorry, Dontae," I mumbled.

And then, while he continued to hold my shoulders, I bent forward and kissed him on the mouth.

He has wonderful, soft lips, Sandra. I'd been wanting to kiss them all evening! But it wasn't something I'd planned--I just had to do it. He'd been so nice to me!

But the effect on him was almost comical. He released his hands from my shoulders and seemed to get all flustered. It's hard to tell when a Black guy is blushing, but I was pretty sure that's what he was doing.

Well, I wasn't going to let this tender moment pass. I took his face in both my hands, give him another kiss, and said, "Dontae, you're a dear, sweet man."

He was sitting on a corner of the bed, and I slipped down to the floor and knelt in front of him. As he gazed down at me with a look of both amazement and fright (and, I hope, just a bit of desire), I started to unzip his fly. It was pretty hard to do--his jeans are pretty tight--but I managed it. It was even harder to get that thing out of his pants, mostly because it was already pretty hard.

Sandra, that cock was about eight inches long. Not the biggest I'd ever seen, but pretty impressive. Of course I stuck it in my mouth.

Oh, it tasted so good! I just love that strange mixture of hardness and softness (I'm referring to the exquisitely soft skin up and down the shaft) that a cock presents. I'm not really keen on deep throat, but I managed to get about half of it into my mouth, and that seemed enough for Dontae. Once or twice I looked up at him to see how he was reacting. His mouth was hanging a little open, but he made no attempt to touch me. Some guys press down on a girl's head to make her swallow more of their cock--God, I hate that! Aside from the fact that I don't want to gag on that thing, I like to be in charge of this procedure. The guy should just sit back and enjoy it!

Well, this was only foreplay. After a few minutes, the cock seemed even harder than it was before, if that was possible. So I stood up and, as he gazed up at me, I began a slow striptease. Well, it wasn't that slow, since I wasn't wearing a bra under my tank top, and was only wearing a pair of skimpy shorts. So in about half a minute I was naked in front of him.

His face got all scrunched up, and I think he was sniffling a little bit. Not to be immodest, but it was almost like he was looking at something too beautiful to endure. I thought I heard him whisper to himself, "Oh, so lovely . . ." Very flattering!

He didn't make any move to undress himself. I kind of rolled my eyes and said to myself, I guess I'll have to do it. And I did. First I tugged his T-short off his head, revealing that lovely, muscular, hairless chest. Then I had him stand up while I pulled his pants down. His underwear came along with it. I even took his shoes and socks off, and then he stepped out of his jeans and stood naked.

I have to say, I nearly fainted from the sight. He's gorgeous, Sandra! It wasn't just the muscles, although that was part of it. As he wrapped me in his arms and our bodies touched for the first time, I felt an electricity that I hadn't felt in a long time. I was quite a bit shorter than him, and he actually lifted me up off the ground so that our faces were aligned. Then he started kissing me all over--my cheeks, my forehead, my neck and throat, even my ears. And, of course, my lips. I returned every kiss as passionately as he did.

He put me down, and we lay down on the bed.

I could tell he was pretty eager: the moment I was on my back, my legs spread, he almost jumped on me and positioned himself for entry. But he fooled me: he slid down and spent a lot of time kneading and kissing and licking my breasts, even twirling my nipples and sometimes nibbling on them. Oh, man, did he make love to my breasts! I think I have a nice pair--but I swear to you, Sandra, it was almost as if he was worshipping them. He would take one of them with both hands, so that the nipple stuck out, and then he fastened his lips on it almost as if I was his mom and he was a big baby trying to get nourishment out of it. I didn't complain, mind you!

Then he finally moved up until his cock was right at the threshold of my crevice. But he didn't go in. All of a sudden that shyness of his came back.

"It's okay, Dontae," I said encouragingly. "You can go on in. I'm pretty wet."

But he still hesitated--and then an unbelievable thought shot through my mind. Surely he wasn't a--

"Dontae," I said softly, "have you done this before?"

"Yeah," he said. "Once."

"Once?" I cried incredulously. "One time?"

He nodded, as if ashamed.

"So at least you know how it's done," I said. "It's a lot easier than chemistry!"