tagFetishSurprise Guest, Surprise Breasts

Surprise Guest, Surprise Breasts


I was a college freshman and had only been in the dorm a few days. When I returned from class, some guys were gathered in the hall and said this gal named Ellen, who said she was a friend from back home, had come looking for me and had waited quite some time before leaving, saying she would return later.

Now the only Ellen I knew was the long-term girlfriend of a guy I'd gone to high school with, and I was sure they'd gone to college together in a completely different part of the country, so it could not possibly be her. At first, I really thought the dorm dudes were pulling my leg, as the female visitor they described as a pretty brunette with a great body, big smile, and very friendly seemed general and could be lots of girls. The fact that she had turned them on and they were so excited is what finally convinced me they were probably telling the truth.

I had no fucking idea who she was, and without a last name, no way to get a phone number.

So I just waited and wondered.

A few days went by, and, with hotties all over campus I was making plays for, forgot all about the mystery visitor.

Then there was a knock at my dorm door one quiet early evening while my roomie was at the library, and when I opened the door, there was this fine-looking gal in tight jeans and tee-shirt with a huge white smile who threw her arms around me with a big squeeze and identified herself as Ellen.

She looked vaguely familiar, but I had no idea who the hell this Ellen was, so I asked her in and pretended to be so glad to see her. (Well, I didn't exactly have to PRETEND to be glad to see even a strange chic who looked and acted as good as her.)

I just sat there and smiled and let her talk, hoping she'd say something to jog my memory so I would not completely embarrass myself. Oddly, she knew all about me. Well, she eventually got around to mentioning that she had really enjoyed me as Don Quixote, was impressed that I played piano also, and was sorry she'd not got a chance to know me better.

Aha! She was the pianist for my high school's senior-year production of Man of La Mancha. Though she went to a different school, since I had the leading male part with lots of singing, I'd rehearsed those songs many a time with her at the piano in the practice room.

But our director was always there with us, and, usually, other actors, too. During rehearsals and performances, she was in the pit with the rest of the orchestra. I really don't remember having had more than a couple of cursory conversations with Ellen. Of course, the fact that I was busy wooing the exotic Jewish beauty who played opposite me in the Aldonza/Dulcinea role may have had something to do with my memory.

Wow, had Ellen ever changed! With the braces on her teeth and the thick glasses gone, and a completely new look with a stylish hairdo and tight casual clothes showing off a dynamite figure formerly obscured by the frumpy wool school uniform, Ellen was one very desirable girl!

Moreover, her whole demeanor was different. She had blossomed from reserved and disciplined to outgoing and fun--making frequent eye contact and laughing easily--and assertive. I mean, it's not often that a good-looking girl takes the initiative to come find a guy.

Now I won't exaggerate and say she was THE best looking gal on campus, but the astonishing makeover had transformed this formerly ho-hum gal into a solid 9 on a scale of 1 to 10.

So, here I am a lowly college freshman the first week of school with a fine babe who's tracked me down after thinking about me for six months, sitting alone with me in my dorm room sending every signal she's hot to trot. Of course, it had been almost a month since my high school girlfriend had left for college after our Summer of Sex, so I had to remind myself that extreme horniness has a way of altering one's perception and did not make a move on Ellen.

An hour after knocking on my door, Ellen broke a particularly pregnant pause with, "So, are we gonna fuck or what?"

Now that's what I call assertive!

"Let's begin with a little what, then fuck," I suggested, beaming at how lucky I was.

I plunged my tongue down her throat as I grabbed her firm buns with both hands. In no time I wriggled off her jeans, snatched her shirt off, and kissed her all over. Damn, she had a nice body!

She was an excellent kisser, but beyond that, an obvious sexual novice. However, she was eager to make up for lost time and wanted to learn, so I taught her how to give good head, and she caught right on. Then I peeled off her panties and encountered the thickest, blackest bush I've ever seen, hacking through it to find a delicious wet pussy I licked and sucked with relish as she cooed with pleasure.

Ellen kept saying stuff like, "Oh, you are so fucking good at this. I want you to teach me everything about sex."

And so I fucked her missionary there on my bunk bed for a while before bending her over my chair by the window and eating her out doggy for a good while, and then boinking her some more, watching my cock pull her very dark, super-tight pussy wrong side out on the out stroke and the lips disappear and the wave of flesh ripple across those magnificent buns on every in stroke. Damn, she felt so fine and had the world's best attitude.

When I put together her obvious sexual inexperience, that ultra-tight vagina, and her over-eagerness to learn, I am almost positive she was a virgin until that very afternoon with me, though she never said so. Now unlike many men, I would much rather get it on with a very experienced woman than a virgin, but Ellen was different.

You see, you only had to "play" it one time, and, be it a song or a sexual technique, she had it down perfect. Ellen was an incredibly fast learner, and so there was immediate payoff after showing her the ropes.

I lay down on the rug on the floor, she mounted me, and I showed her how to fuck that way. Once again, she learned and in no time performed like an old pro.

Now the thing was, at this point, we were completely naked but for my socks and her bra. Sometimes, I like to leave a girl's bra on to well into sex, especially those with really nice tits, as a sort-of extra kick when I unleash them later.

Ellen had on a black, semi-sheer bra that matched her long-gone panties, and with her now riding atop me bouncing those really nice C cups over the underwire, I just had to finally see and squeeze them in full, unobstructed view. Wow, were they gonna be nice!

So I raised up to unhook the clasp in back, but, as I had shown her just a little while earlier, she leaned back out of my reach, grabbed my knees, arched her back, and stiff-armed herself while continuing to fuck me so very, very fine. I dropped my hands to peel back the forest of pubes and watch my cock go in and out of her lovely pussy.

She really liked this girl-atop-guy position, and quickly learned its variations, including the above, and both facing forward and facing away either on her knees or flat-footed. She even learned how to twist from facing forward to facing away and the reverse without ever letting my cock slip out of her pussy. Now, that ain't easy folks!

I was dying to get at those tits, but every time she was facing me and I went for the clasp, she'd lean back out of my reach again. She was cumming over and over and having such a good time that I just let it go, but at last, when she was facing away and pistoning my absolute full length with incredible precision and having a huge orgasm, I snapped the clasp open, reached around, and got two handfuls of boob.

She sort of tried to lean forward away from me, but I had her by the tits in my grasp. How strange--after everything else we'd done, she was definitely reluctant to let me at her tits. Of course, in that position, I still couldn't see them, so I managed to spin her back towards me, pick her up while keeping my dick inside, and, holding her up by the buns, flying fuck her back over to the chair by the window.

The bra was still hanging by its straps, partially concealing her lovely-shaped breasts, when I pulled it over her arms to see and feel them in their full glory. She gave weak resistance, but off the bra came anyway.

What the fuck was this?!!! She had those puffy kind of nipples, very dark like her pussy, but in the areola surrounding them, emerging from tiny little whelps were long, straight, black hairs! There must have been a good dozen on each areola—1, 2, some even 3 inches long!

In fact, I'd seen a couple trailing from the edge of the bra earlier, thinking they were just strands of thread, but no, those were wirey black hairs!

Now, we were having really good sex, and even though I could tell she was obviously embarrassed about them--trying to keep them covered for so long--it was still a turn-off.

Of course, I was not about to say or do anything critical, but I had waited so long for those tits, and now this! The boobs themselves had a nice shape and drape, felt great, and the puffy nipples veritably screamed to be twiddled and sucked, but practically speaking, it was nearly impossible to do either.

When I tried to twiddle them, the long hairs just got all wound up around my fingers and thumb, and attempting to suck them was even more difficult, trying to pull them all over to one side out of the way only for some to pop free inside my mouth and halfway down my throat. Unpleasant, to say the least.

Otherwise, she was nothing short of excellent in bed. We were still fooling around in my bottom bunk when my nerdy roommate returned, climbing into his top bunk and masturbating behind his Golf Digest. Ellen got a huge kick out of that, and in the future, seemed to actually prefer he be there while we sucked and fucked and licked right below him. She had no interest in him, but it was like she was so proud of her newfound sexuality that she wanted to show and tell everyone.

Well, anyway, we kept up our dorm fucking on a every-few-days basis for about a month, and all the guys on my end of the hall would linger about just so they could see her when she arrived and left. They thought I was some kind of real lady-killer, but it was nothing but pure luck that she picked me to give her gorgeous self to and learn all about sex from.

She really was a hot-looking babe who moved like a Siamese cat, but, of course, those dorm guys had no idea that, out of their sight, those seemingly exquisite ta-tas were like two beautiful mountains ruined by a thicket of radio antennas at the summit.

I had met another couple of freshmen girls in the dorm next door that I was making good progress with, so I was not at all interested in dating Ellen exclusively or any other chick, for that matter. We never even went out on a "date," having a purely stop-by-my dorm-and-fuck relationship. Accordingly, I didn't mind if she fucked other guys, either.

And did she ever. I saw her on the back of a Harley with a bearded biker dude, and kissing a middle-aged professor notorious for boinking the young undergraduate girls. One evening, while running past the physical plant on the opposite side of campus, I saw her, quite disheveled, emerge from the crotchety, old-as-the-hills maintenance superintendent's office. Crotchety, indeed—her crotch and his crotch! That was fine with me, for she had the decency not to fuck any of my buddies or anyone in my dorm.

I got from her a bad case of crabs--pubic lice. I'd got them before in high school, was able to quickly trace their origin to one person, and get the pediculicide medicine to him and everyone in that net of sexual activity. So, I knew what to do when I let Ellen know. I didn't really care who or how many guys she'd fucked, but the only responsible thing to do was get word to each of them ASAP so they could take care of the lice problem. In discussing the matter with her, I learned that she'd already fucked scores of guys! A week later, I got crabs from her again! She was fucking so many guys she couldn't even figure out who the original carrier was. She had, in effect, become the Typhoid Mary of crabs. That, coupled with those frustrating wire-haired boobs and other good-looking chicks on my sexual agenda, put an end to our "relationship."

That was way back in the late 70s, and I have to believe that today laser hair removal or some other method is available for women who have such hair on their tits. It was just gross, and, thankfully, I never again encountered another woman with such hair on her nipples.

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