Andy’s Rough Anal College Tale

We finally split up. But after some time apart, it became apparent that we were still wicked hot for each other. One night we found ourselves in bed, and it was fantastic. Could we focus on the physical, fuck occasionally but not get too heavy? It worked for a while.

I can't remember who called whom on this particular Friday, but the cab dropped Vanessa off late in the evening. I hadn't screwed in a couple weeks, and it had been longer since I'd seen her. God, she looked great. As always. Standing on the stoop with a hand on cocked hip, she gave a slight smile.

"Hey there," she said in her dead sexy tone, braless breasts shifting beneath a loose sweatshirt when she slipped her backpack off a shoulder. "The sooner you let me in, the sooner we'll be naked." Apparently she hadn't been laid in a while, either.

She chose the music, as always. Squeeze's Singles 45's and Under; I distinctly remember her stripping to "Take Me I'm Yours." Yep, mine. At least for a few hours. She still kept that pretty pussy completely bare. At the time, I was vain enough to believe she did it for me. In hindsight, I just hope she did it for herself instead of some other dude.

Gawking at that perfect body, slack-jawed, I felt light-headed. Overwhelmed. A smile crossed her face. She knew how stunning I found her. "Stop," she said, snickering, turning a bit and hiding breasts and sex with an arm. "No one ever looks at me that way. It's embarrassing."

Whatever. "Vanessa," I started, snapping out of my stupor and remembering Professor Hansen, among others, "Everyone looks at you that way."

"No. Not the way you do," she answered quietly, making me warmer. She moved her arm and faced me again, this time with legs spread. "And not everyone sees this."

But more than just me, I thought ruefully. Then I focused on the positive: She was here now. I pushed her to the mattress, my mouth tracing a path from neck to wet folds. I ate her through a couple of comes before she pushed my head away. "Fuck me," she demanded, pulling her ankles way back, showing me everything. "Hard."

I shoved my cock deep, touching the back of her sopping, shallow snatch with the first stroke as "Another Nail for My Heart" began. For real. I slowed for a second but shook off the melancholy -- lust trumps moping in the Rochambeau (roshambo?) pecking order.

I took her roughly, hammering home each thrust as she wailed. Sweat formed on both of us, the pace quickly wearing her out. I was in great fucking shape -- or great shape for fucking -- in those days, and I could keep quite a clip.

Vanessa grunted with every rapid-fire plunge. "Come in me," she urged in a strained, high-pitched voice I barely recognized. Needing it as much as me. I desperately grasped her thighs, fingerprints rising on flesh, thrust my bone to the balls and blasted streams of jizz up her hole. So much pent-up desire. And semen.

I relaxed for a moment still sheathed to the hilt, then leaned back on my haunches, softening cock slipping from her gaping gash, load leaking onto the sheets.

I dropped next to my love while she lightly stroked her breasts, cooing. We split a couple of cheap longnecks and talked for hours while sprawled naked on my well-worn futon, CDs spinning. The Police. The Smiths. Bowie. Of course some Cure.

She was still stuck on art-rock songs of longing, and that was fine by me. I'm sentimental (um, this tale makes that obvious, maybe?), and I was awash with the memories of us and high on how wonderfully we fit together.

"Maybe we should get back together," I eventually ventured, standing and putting on some Clapton. I'm forever a sucker for classic rock.

"You'd probably just cheat on me," she stated matter-of-factly, touching my cheek when I returned to bed. Not angry, just honest. It was a matter of fact, after all.

We slept naked and entwined, and it was past 10 before I woke -- after my hardened member, naturally, which pressed against her ass. I stroked her skin until she stirred, sighing contentedly and pushing against my pole. "Happy to see me?" she mumbled sleepily.

"And then some," I answered, aiming my cock lower and finding her moist center. She was wet, as always. She smiled, eyes opening.

"How do you want me?" she asked, reaching for my rod. Now I smiled, lifting Vanessa's leg as she pulled my prick to her pussy from behind. Still beat up from the previous night, her little snatch didn't want to take me. I didn't care. Pressing, pushing, insisting, I slowly forced my thick shaft inside. Vanessa whined but simply moved her legs further apart, letting me take what I wanted. What I constantly wanted.

Propped up on an elbow, I peered over her shoulder at those gorgeous tits. The best breasts I'd ever seen, but I believe that's been well-established. "Will you be on top, sweetie? I wanna see you."

She nodded, pleased to play to my flattery. She climbed astride, guiding my cock back into her warmth. Riding leisurely, she toyed with her clit while the other hand lifted a breast. She smiled at me and moved her mouth to a nipple, tongue flicking at it.

"Fuuuuuck," I growled, enjoying the show. No one else has done that for me. Or maybe no one else could. Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others, indeed. The grinding got to me, her pulsating pussy rippling along my cock. She had such amazing muscle control. I do, too. Up to a point. There's only so much a man can do when a beautiful woman massages his meat while simultaneously licking her own breast.

"I can't wait," I warned. I didn't want to, either, but I didn't want to get there alone. I briefly placed a hand on hers -- urging her to work that clit faster -- before snaking it behind her hips. I rubbed my middle finger around her little asshole and inserted it. She took it all, gasping when I pulled out and pushed in again, rubbed her clit harder and we crested together, Vanessa collapsing on my chest.

We rested, then hunger of a different sort struck. "You buying brunch?" she asked. "I paid for the cab."

I was so poor. But it did seem only fair. I watched her dress -- same loose sweatshirt over braless breasts, swapping out the leggings for a skirt sans panties -- and we wandered out for the first time in nearly 16 hours.

It was a gorgeous late October afternoon, crisp and clear. But winter is never far from that cold corner of the world, and yellowed leaves floated around us as we strolled to my neighborhood tavern, Vanessa's hands wrapped around my elbow. Our path took us by a boutique selling candles, incense and hippy outfits -- yeah, that kind of place -- with cute, above-the-knee dresses in the display window.

Vanessa stopped and pulled me closer, inspecting a white, high-waisted number. "You're dripping out of me," she whispered conspiratorially, flashing a grin. Then, turning to the display as if nothing was amiss, as if her pussy wasn't a mess, she said, "Wanna watch me try that on?"

I mean, my god. Why wasn't I with this woman every damn day? Oh yeah, because she didn't need me to be. I followed her through the door and to the dress in question. The store was cozy and warm and, well, fuck it, the incense did smell good. Sure, I said it. Jangling came from the rows of knick-knacks, growing louder. A slender blonde appeared, metal bracelets up both arms. "Lovely out, isn't it," she said pleasantly. "Want to try that one? I bet it looks great on you..."

She waited, smiling. "Vanessa," my beauty responded.

"I bet it looks great on you, Vanessa," she said, already striding for the thin sundress. It was out of season, but style goes a long way. Holding it up in front of Vanessa, she fixed blue eyes on me. "Don't you think it'll be great on her?"

"I can't wait to see it," I gushed. Ugh, still so eager. Vanessa chuckled and grabbed it, strutting into the sole dressing room. She spun and flung the curtain nearly closed, leaving a narrow gap in her haste. Or maybe it was intentional.

"Anna," I heard. Sounding far away but right next to me. I shook my head to clear the haze. "I'm Anna," the clerk repeated, stifling a snicker. "Students, right? You're a junior? What's your major?"

"English. But I'm terrible at it. How'd you know I'm a junior?"

She casually fingered a crystal hanging between pert breasts as she gazed at me. "Lucky guess. Maybe." Anna turned to the dressing room and I saw lines at the corner of an eye. She smiled a lot. And was older. Thirty? Who knows. In college, everyone on the far side of twenty-five seems ancient.

"Vanessa's very pretty," Anna stated, focused on a leg bare to mid-thigh visible between the curtain and wall and knowing full well the younger woman heard her. The wood floor creaked as I shifted my feet. Incense hung in the air. It was so warm. "You're an English major, do you write?"

"Poorly," I stammered, as Vanessa threw open the curtain with a flourish, presenting herself.

"Ta-da!" she announced, Mediterranean skin contrasting with the white fabric. She sauntered in front of a window, sun backlighting her.

"Now that is alluring," Anna declared. It was clear Vanessa stood sans bra and panties. With legs slightly spread, I could see the uninterrupted line of her thigh all the way to her hips, and her nipples protruded. A phone rang and Anna rolled her eyes. "That'll be my boss checking up on me. I'll be right back," she said, putting a hand on Vanessa's shoulder and gliding past us.

"Oh my god," Vanessa mouthed, pointing at her pussy. The dripping! Right! Oops. Staring at me, she took the dress' hem and dragged it up her inner thigh, sopping up my sperm and leaving the material soaked.

In the end, we didn't even buy it. Tacky, I realize, but we were broke. It was the dress or brunch; I couldn't afford both. I could barely buy either.

Anna saw us off with a smile. "Come back anytime you want something," she said (suggestively?), eyes on me but directing the message to Vanessa.

Minutes later, we slid into a booth at my local spot. "I'm pretty sure Anna was flirting with you," I said.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you," Vanessa replied dismissively. "And duh."

We had breakfast for lunch. Famished, Vanessa attacked her bacon and cheddar omelet with the same gusto she approached everything else. Eyes sparkling, mouth curling into a sated smile between bites, humming. Yes, Vanessa hummed when enjoying a meal, and I loved it.

We kicked off our shoes and played footsie under the table, my toes creeping up her skirt. Grinning at each other as if we shared some secret, I felt the contour of her strong calf, the hollow behind her knee, that silky thigh. Did she stop me? Never. Instead, she spread her legs wider.

We didn't miss a morsel, Vanessa stabbing at her last forkful of crispy hash browns. She pushed the plate away, eyes closed, one final "Mmm" for good measure. I was stuffed, but just watching her was making my cock stir yet again.

"So, am I still paying?" I queried.

Her stare told me I was a moron, but she didn't say a word. Instead, her right hand disappeared below the table and her shoulder started rotating. Lips parting, eyelids heavy, Vanessa's breath got ragged as I watched in awe. Her hand reappeared, and she offered a middle finger -- dripping -- for me to lick. I looked around, but no one noticed. I didn't care if they did. I took a taste. Delicious. Sweet and spicy, and perhaps a touch of salt from the load I'd blown. Now it was my turn to hum.

"I'm sorry," she said, words glazed in sugar. "Were you saying something?"

I opened my mouth but nothing happened, so I shut it. For a change. "Oh right, are you still paying for lunch," she continued, eyes fixed on mine as her hand again slipped beneath the table. "The answer is yes, if you know what's good for you."

"And what is good for me?" I asked with some attitude, getting into it.

The shoulder moved faster. Her head lolled back a little; I could hear the squishing in her quim. My cock jutted sideways and I fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to adjust. She brought the finger to her lips, grinned and shoved it into her mouth, sucking hard.

My cheeks were burning.

When she flicked the tip of her tongue off the tip of her finger -- just like she did with my dick -- I felt sweat on my brow and shivers up my spine. "That is tasty, isn't it," she said, winking. "Let's see...what's good for you...how about fucking my ass?"

"Check please!" I hoarsely shouted to no one in particular, voice breaking.

We raced home. She swung open the screen door as I slapped her ass, hurrying her along. She squirmed and giggled and we made it back to my bedroom in record time. She was yanking her sweatshirt over those luscious tits before I even shut the door. I pushed her against the wall and kissed her, hard. My tongue found hers as I nudged apart those shapely thighs. I grabbed at her snatch, hard.

"What do you want, baby," I breathed into her ear.

"Fuck my mouth," she whispered, lips brushing my cheek and body bending to mine. "Then you'll fuck my cunt." With that hard "T." I hadn't heard it from her. I liked it. But she wasn't done.

"And then I want you to fuck my tiny ass," she whispered.

Hell yeah I loved her. Who couldn't?

We fell onto the futon and my head was soon between her thighs. I pushed an index finger up her swollen pussy, the pressure forcing out the final remnants of my giant load. I moved the finger to her mouth and she sucked our juices off of it.

"Put that finger in my ass," she demanded. I wasted no time, Vanessa arching her back as I jammed it in to the second joint. I added a digit from my other hand to her pussy while my tongue worked her fat clit.

My fingers and tongue found a rhythm that worked for her. It was the finger in the ass that really did it. She was such a good girl.

"You love it, don't you," I told her, my tongue taking a quick break.

"Oh my god," she answered, writhing. "Don't stop!"

I returned to her clit, pushed a second finger up her ass and waited for the wailing. "I'm commming," she cried, syllables tumbling together.

God damn, I'm good at that. I brought my head up to hers and kissed those pouty lips. "How do you taste?"

She smacked her lips, our noses nearly touching. "I taste fucking great," she said, hands wildly grabbing for my cock.

"Fuck my mouth," she directed, tugging my dick with one hand while she tugged her button with the other. She slowly worked down my lean chest, kissing, licking and nipping my neck, nipples and navel. She palmed my meat, flitted her tongue across the tip and fixed her warm eyes on mine. "Fuck my mouth before you fuck my ass. Like you promised."

I moaned as her filthy mouth devoured my staff, head bobbing and fingernails grazing my thigh while her other hand hefted my full sack. She peeked at me, stroked my shaft and smiled briefly before returning my dick's bulbous head to the back of her throat. I grasped the hand mirror Vanessa had brought from the bathroom the night before and held it near her flawless face.

"How gorgeous is that?" I asked.

She turned slightly, picked up the pace and saw her blurred cheeks stuffed with cock. "We're beautiful," she answered, pressing my meat against her lips and eyeing the act in the mirror. She drooled on my dick, then moved it between those stunning breasts. I fucked her cleavage, her mouth sucking at the head of my pole on each slow stroke.

"Fuck me," she urged, climbing off me. "I want you on top. Do it hard."

It was a brief but primal preamble to the main event. It wasn't long before I paused the harsh strokes in her pussy and pushed her head back toward my cock. "Better get it nice and wet," I said menacingly.

She wasted no time sucking me again, a hand returning to her clit. "You are incredible," I breathed, wrapping my hands in her curls and jamming myself deeper into her throat. "That's so good."

Her little hand moved faster when she gagged and spat me out. "Do you wanna shove your cock up my ass?" she queried.

"Fuck yeah, Vanessa," I answered. "I want your ass."

"Take it, baby," she said. Watching me with sparkling eyes, Vanessa dragged her tongue along my rod's underside from balls to head, bathing my groin. She grinned at my groan, then gently frenched the big bulb. "I want to feel this in me."

She rolled onto her tummy, firm tits peeking out from beneath her rib cage. Reaching back, she put each palm on a perfect half moon and spread the pale cheeks. "Is this what you want?" she teased, her little star welcoming and open from the vulgar position, my finger's penetration and our past ass-fucking forays.

Vanessa dipped a finger into her drenched box and dragged some juice to her back hole, poking the tip inside. She repeated the act once, twice, thrice -- forcing the finger further into her hot ass with each pass. I stared, mouth agape at the sexy sight, and spread more spit on my stick.

I pulled her hips level with my cock and ripped inside her cunt, seeking more natural lube. She sure had it -- a string of girl come connected my prick to her pussy when I withdrew. I leaned back, staring at the beauty before me. She was so gorgeous, face turned sideways on the pillow, back arched. Waiting. I still loved her.

Maybe lust is more accurate. Nah, it was love. Always was.

"Do it," she quietly urged, holding those sweet cheeks wide. I slipped a couple inches in immediately as she moaned. That butt was built to fuck, and Vanessa could take a total pounding. But I was gentle. For a moment. I eased most of my meat into her heat before clenching fists and a pained intake of breath told me to stop. She never would complain or tell me to back off, I had to listen to her body.

I pulled all but the tip out and gave her a second to recover before turning mean. "Whose ass is this?" I asked almost sweetly, slowly forcing my fuckstick up her resisting rectum.

"It's mine," she answered demurely, trying to wiggle away from the deep penetration.

"Yeah?" I replied, an edge to my voice. I suddenly packed my root's remainder into her hole, pubic bone against the stretched opening. "Whose ass is this?"

"Oh!" she yelped. "It's mine, it's mine!" Defiant, but willing to reconsider.

"Whose ass is this!" I hissed harshly, hammering three hard strokes up her forgiving flesh, dick drilling into the sore space. It was no longer a question.

"Oooohhhh, it's yours," she whimpered, returning a hand to her soaking snatch. "It's yours, all yours."

"You are fucking amazing," I said, driving my cock far up that dark tunnel, sphincter squelching when I pulled out. I spread the gaping pink opening, my helmet found its home and I shoved the tacky staff up her sheath as she whined.

"It's yours! It's yours! My ass is yours!" she cried as I cruelly rutted into her.

I jammed into her for a couple minutes, slamming my hips against her with all my power. My cock a cudgel, I pounded the hole and drove her flat on the bed, perspiration pouring onto her back as I punished her poor body. Through it all, she grunted and frigged herself, moans growing more rapid...and then more high-pitched. "Vanessa, are you gonna come again?"

"Yes. Yes!" she squealed. "I'm gonna come. Oh god I'm gonna come with you in my ass."

And she did just that as I slowed, deep-stroking, filling every crevice. She howled, fingers flying on her clit, and a wave washed over her quivering frame. Our sweat and dirty, sinful substances stained the bed, and so did blood -- I looked down and saw the sheets balled up and red smears on my futon; the mattress' rough fabric had rubbed my knees crimson while I owned her.

Oh well, I was way more focused on fucking the most beautiful girl in the world's twenty-year-old ass. I ravaged it raw and she took it like a champ, I could hardly complain about a little lost skin. The blood fueled me, actually.