The Cornhole Championship

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Nina Hartley was a pretty girl. She knew that. Well, she might not have actually fully appreciated how really pretty she was, but she did recognize that she was an attractive girl. She had long wavy fluttering lashes and large round pretty green eyes, which typically sparkled and gleamed so gaily beneath her even larger round spectacles. She had rosy dimpled cheeks, little pursed lips, a perky thin nose, and wavy blonde hair that fell just to her shoulders.

Her breasts were not large, but they were very nicely rounded and so firm that she didn't really need to wear a brassiere. But, she did so anyway because the extent to which they wiggled when she walked made her feel too self-conscious. She would also become quite embarrassed when her nipples would stiffen and be clearly evident through a blouse or at times even a sweater. The smallness of her breasts though was perhaps quite proportional to her size, as she was a rather petite girl, certainly no taller than five feet.

In sum, she was really quite attractive. Any man would certainly agree, but only a few men had yet really seen her, at least in that personal way. Nina was not inexperienced. She had been with a couple of guys, and had slept with them, and had sex with them. She had enjoyed it, but she had never had the thrill, the explosion, the fulfillment that she felt lovemaking should provide. Even her orgasms seemed anticlimactic. Something was missing and she didn't know what it was.

But, one day she did have a clue. She was trying on different outfits, standing in front of her wall mirror. She was wearing a very short summer dress that clung well to her figure. She felt she did look quite fetching in it. She liked how it clung to her breasts. It didn't just drape over them, it seemed to wrap her breasts like a present, obviously for some boy, the right boy, who would be given permission to open his present if he was a good boy, a deserving boy.

She turned her back to her mirror to see how the dress looked from behind. It was a bit short. Her mother wouldn't like that, but she was eighteen now. She could wear what she wanted. She might agree with her mother thought that her thighs seemed to be rather wantonly exposed. She bent forward, just to see whether it rose up too high in the back.

And, it did. Even when she was just half-way bent over the bottom of her bottom could be seen just beneath the hem. She thought it looked kind of sexy. She was wearing full cotton pink panties, and it looked kind of like two pink cotton candy balls were peeking out from beneath her skirt.

She pulled the skirt all the way up and over her back.

Her smiled broadened. She did have a very nice bottom, if she said so herself. It was so petite, so perky, so round. And, it looked particularly sexy when it was poking out like that, like she was trying to entice some guy with it, like she was holding out some big apple for him to eat. She giggled as she wiggled it back and forth, as if she was some sort of stripper or something, not that she had ever seen such a girl perform her act. But, she could imagine it went something like that.

Her face blushed imagining her mother stepping into her room right now while she was bent over, waving her pink pantied bottom at herself in the mirror. Nina still lived at home. She was a college freshman at Templeton, and lots of the Templeton students still lived at home with their parents, at least those close enough to commute. It was very helpful in saving the considerable cost of lodging. Plus, it was a good way to keep a close eye on the kids even though they were now eighteen. But, mom and dad can't control what she does in the privacy of her own bedroom.

Her dancing bottom was giving her an idea. Keeping it poking back at the mirror she reached back for the waistband of her panties. She imagined that she was doing this for some guy. She had stripped for a guy before. She wasn't a prude by any means. But, she had done it facing him, figuring that's what he would like most. After all, her tittles and cunnie were on the front. There was only her butt on the other side. And, besides, it was natural to be facing the guy you were stripping for, so that you could see his eyes, his reactions to the slow exposure of your body, and smile lovingly and appreciatively at each other.

This time though she was showing him her bottom. Well, not really a him, but in her minds eye it was a him. She pulled her panties slowly down, slowly revealing the pale white skin of her bottom. She liked how the crack first appeared, the first exposure of something that was clearly quite private, quite personal, something not usually seen by anyone other than herself, something quite sexual and intimate: the beguiling beginning crack of her bottom.

It did certainly feel quite sexual to Nina. She could feel the warmth developing between her thighs as more and more of her crack appeared, along with the soft white round pale cheeks of her derriere. She left the panties tucked in just beneath her cheeks, providing them with a soft pink cotton cushion upon which to rest.

She gazed back at her bottom for awhile, admiring its shape. It looked so much rounder and tighter when she was bent over like this. She wondered why she hadn't better appreciated her bottom before. A naked girl's bottom looks so innocent, so pure, yet it was really very sensual, very sexual. She couldn't understand why her past dates had never seemed that interested in it.

She reached back and patted her fanny affectionately, giving it little warmhearted pats and mild spanks, gigging as she watched it wiggle and jiggle like a big mound of fresh ripe jello. She really did like jello quite a bit, but apparently not too many boys do. She even slid the tips of her fingers up and down her crack, enjoying the intimacy of the gesture, the naughtiness of its implication. And, it felt as good to her bottom as it did to her fingers, sort of ticklish and enticing.

She then impulsively reached back with both hands and spread open her cheeks. Her face instantly flushed red at the sight of her red puckered anus. It looked so naughty and felt so obscene, so lewd, so shameless, to be doing this. But, she actually couldn't take her eyes away from it. She suddenly realized that she may in fact have never actually seen it before. How really very strange. She was eighteen years old. More than eighteen years of her life had gone by and yet there was a part of her body that she had never in fact seen! She had seen virtually every other part of her body, but not that. But, why? Was she really so ashamed of it? Was it really that obscene, that filthy, that repugnant that she couldn't even bring herself to look at it? And, yet, now, at this moment, it didn't look particularly loathsome or odious at all. In fact, on the contrary, dare she say it, it looked kind of cute. She squeezed her sphincter a few times, watching it blink and wink at her in the reflection of the mirror.

She let go of one of her cheeks, pulled more tightly on the other to keep the crack open as much as possible and gingerly, guardedly, reached down into her crack with her freed hand to gently lay the tip of a finger right on the wrinkled hole.

As soon as contact was made she felt a rush of excitement coursing through her body, and she quickly pulled her finger away. She wasn't sure if her heart was racing, her face was flushing, because she was aroused, or ashamed. It was certainly very shameful to touch yourself down there, back there. She couldn't imagine any of her girlfriends doing something like that, and she certainly couldn't imagine telling her girlfriends she did something like that. She stood back up straight, pulled up her panties and pulled her skirt back down, rubbing and pulling on it to straighten it, to remove any sign of what she had just done. Her mother had often said that if you couldn't tell anyone something you did then you clearly shouldn't be doing it. And, besides, she was feeling rather guilty about it herself. Something playful had turned into something shameful. She certainly wasn't proud of it.

Nina didn't peek at, let alone touch, her anus for a couple of weeks after that. Yet, it was clearly at the back of her mind, and would sometimes push its way forward to the front. She would think about it again when she was drying off after a shower, especially when she dried herself back there, finding herself lingering with the soft terry cloth in the crack of her ass, making sure she was extra careful dry back there, glancing at the baby powder on the bathroom counter, wondering why her mother still had that there, wondering if it might be kind of fun to sprinkle some on her bottom.

She thought about it as well in gym class, when the other girls were bending over to wash or dry their feet. They were at times giving her quick peeks at their little pink rosebuds, and she wondered if they had ever touched themselves there, whether a boyfriend had ever touched them there.

She did finally give into the urge one special evening, when she was all alone, minding the house by herself.

She was watching the History channel, the Modern Marvels series. She didn't normally watch this show, but somehow she was drawn to this episode. It was on the greatest tunnels of the world. Apparently, tunnels were first attempted in Babylonian times. Brunel and Greathead developed some sort of shield that allowed them to burrow under the Thames. She particularly liked the part about the "sandhogs:" swarthy, sweaty, dirty guys who labored mightily digging within damp darkness to eventually forge an 8,463 foot long tunnel below the Hudson.

Once it was over she retired to the bedroom. She had such an urge. She flung off her clothes. She didn't think that she had ever felt so aroused before. She must have been, but at the moment you couldn't convince her otherwise. She wasn't just damp; she was soaking wet, her fluids dripping down her thighs as she tore off her panties. She threw herself on the bed, fondling, squeezing, and mauling her breasts, all the while frantically and frenetically diddling her cunnie, writhing, squirming, and humping like a porno slut. She felt so, so, so hot.

But, it wasn't enough. Something was missing. She lay still on the bed, her knees pulled up against her chest, staring at the ceiling, lightly caressing her sloppy wet slit, her little breasts rising and falling. Something was indeed missing.

She let her fingers slide down lower, past her slit.

"Ohhhhhhh," she squealed nervously as she felt herself going where she really knew she shouldn't. But, the train had left the station, it was on the prairie headed to the dark tunnel.

When it, her fingers, arrived, they hesitated, in part because they were uncertain, but as well as to enjoy the sensation: the ticklish tingling sensation of a tip of a finger lightly caressing her anus. "Mmmmmmmm", she sighed with deep delight, as she brought her other hand away from her breast and down to her clit. For awhile, a wonderful while, she softly caressed her clit and anus, her knees drawn all the way back to her chest, her cunnie and anus fully exposed. Perhaps it was wrong, perhaps it was profane, but it was oh so marvelous, fabulous, sensational. It was just oh so right!

Her fingers had gotten awfully wet from diddling her cunt, and quite a bit of fluid had naturally flowed down. It wasn't long before it wasn't hard to slip a finger up into her ass.

She was surprised though at how much resistance she met. It was, after all, her anus. If she wanted to stick something up in there then it was certainly her own business and under her own control. But, nevertheless, there was quite a bit of apparently natural opposition to this intention. She did wonder if perhaps it was due in part to her remaining ambivalence, her remaining doubts, her sphincter expressing that part of her that felt, if not knew, that this was a wrong thing to do, a very dirty and nasty thing to do, and that she would regret it afterwards.

But the train was now in the tunnel, and it was clearly very happy to be there. It felt so weird having a finger stuck up her butt, perhaps even weirder that it was her own finger, but she really wouldn't know that until someone else stuck his finger up there. She blushed thinking about that. Imagine asking a guy to stick a finger up your butt!

She was impressed at how tightly her sphincter clung to her finger, like it had a choke hold and would not let go. And, she especially marveled at how weirdly wonderful it felt to wiggle her finger around inside. That was definitely very, very naughty. Her other finger wiggled her clit with equal intensity.

She most definitely never had a better masturbatory session. She knew that she had found a place in the world, or more accurately the place, where she was most pleasured: her butt hole. And, she was no longer going to deny it.

She wiggled, wormed, twitched, jiggled, and squirmed her finger, as well her pelvis, working herself up into such a frenzied state. "Fuck me!" She squealed out loud and loudly. "Fuck me! Fuck my little girlish butt, fuck me up the ass with your big hard thick nasty cock!" she screamed to nobody in particular, or at least to the man of her dreams. And she then exploded in her orgasm; her body twitching, lurching, shuddering, and seizing on the bed while her fingers continued to pinch, tug, flutter, and wriggle her clit and rectum. She had never worked so hard at her orgasm, nor ever enjoyed it more.

She lay there quivering and shivering for some time, feeling swept away to a place so very grand and glorious, so very special. She jammed her finger in as far as it would go.

When her euphoric climax had passed, when she was done, she wondered if she would ever match it again. It can be difficult to equal the first one. Of course, this wasn't the first one. She had many orgasms prior to this one, but never as good as this one, as this was her first anal orgasm.

Thereafter she expanded on her techniques and tools. She really got into putting different sorts of things up her butt. She didn't ever get any professional dildos, or anything like that. Where would she hide them? She certainly didn't want to risk her mother discovering something like that. So, she had to improvise.

She liked candles. They were so naturally smooth. She would clip off the wicks and then melt some of the wax to seal over the end into a nicely smooth round tip. Magic markers were also pretty good, but she had to shop carefully for the right size, shape, and smoothness. She especially liked this glue company's squeeze and brush applicators (she couldn't provide the name, not at least without permission and perhaps compensation). They were really quite natural butt plugs: very smooth, small at the tip and then widening to the handle. They even had a nice curve to them that allowed her to explore around inside.

When she had the house to herself she would stick things up there and then go about some sort of routine business, like vacuuming the rug with a candle sticking out of her butt. She even tried painting a picture with a brush stuck up there. That was really quite difficult, and perhaps a little dangerous, as she had to maintain her balance with her butt poised over the canvass. If she fell, it could be pretty, pretty bad. But, it was so playfully fun, and really not that easy, holding a brush with your sphincter, trying to paint by looking over one's shoulder. She wasn't a natural artist in the first place, and she doubted that the great artists, like Michelangelo, ever tried doing it this way.

She would even sometimes stick something up there and leave it in all day while she want to classes at college. She really liked doing that. It was at times uncomfortable when sitting in a chair, but that's also what it made so fun, trying to avoid squirming, yet enjoying each squirm so terribly, terribly much.

Of course, she was a bit troubled by her passion, perhaps even now an obsession. Was it wrong? Was she some sort of a pervert? She didn't think so, but it was certainly true that she kept it as a deep dark secret. So many times when she was out with her friends she considered bringing it up, particularly when they were talking about boys, which was pretty much most of the time, and especially when she had something stuck up her butt, which was pretty much most of the time.

But, she just could get herself to do it. She sorely doubted that they would be supportive, and she ran a terrible risk of them being critical, if not horrified, disgusted, and repulsed.

And, how was she going to bring this up with a guy? What guy would want to date a girl who was into, if not preferred, was perhaps even obsessed with, anal sex? It felt like she had some sort of STD that she would have to warn him about. How soon do you warn him? She certainly couldn't bring it up on the first date, but at some point she would have to reveal the heinous fact, and then what would happen? What would he think?

She really needed to talk to somebody about this. She considered going to the college's counseling center. There was a clinician there, Dr. Lowenstein, who specialized in sexual dysfunctions and paraphilias. But, Nina really didn't want to do that. Wouldn't that be admitting that it is a perversion? She was certainly plenty confused and distraught over this, but deep down in her heart she did not think that it was a perversion and she certainly did not consider herself to be crazy or anything like that. Imagine if Dr. Lowenstein put her on some sort of medication or something, something that would take away the urge, the desire, the passion! No, there was simply no way she was going to squelch that which made her feel most satisfied, most happy, most alive.

She decided to talk to Professor Gould. Professor Gould taught the major biology courses at Templeton. A biology professor would know about things like this. And, most importantly, he was a very understanding and considerate man. She was Nina's favorite professor, and everybody said that he was probably the most considerate and compassionate professor on campus. Well, that might be overstating it. Nina heard that Miss Bixley was a pretty darned good professor too. She had taken one of her classes last semester. But Miss Bixley seemed something of a prude. Plus, Nina was currently in one of Professor Gould's classes. It would be much better to talk to a professor with whom she currently had a relationship. In fact, as his student, he would have to keep the discussion confidential, wouldn't he? Nina didn't know if there was some sort of legal binding confidentiality agreement between students and professors, but perhaps there was. There was certainly no way she wanted her parents to hear about this.

She stopped by Professor Gould's office late Wednesday afternoon. The door was open. That was itself a positive sign. Some professors kept their office doors closed. Professor Gould always kept his open. It was a vivid, concrete message that any guest, any visitor, any student, was always welcome.

But, Nina nevertheless still stood hesitantly, timidly, at the entrance to his office. "Professor Gould?" she said quietly, almost whispering.

The professor was behind his desk, working on a manuscript, concerning gerbil tunnels. But, he did always have time for a student. His vocation was science but his passion was education. "Nina, wonderful, please, come in, come in." He waved her into the room. "Have a seat, please."

"Professor Gould, could I talk with you for a second?"

"Certainly, Nina, please, please, come in. I'm not busy. Is it about the test?" Nina hadn't done that well on the last test, or at least not as well as Dr. Gould felt she could have.

"No, no sir, no, that's not it."

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