The Humper Game Pt. 02 Ch. 03

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In which Phil is surprised, and things do not go well.
4.6k words
4.65
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Part 11 of the 67 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 04/26/2018
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WilCox49
WilCox49
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Author's note:

This is, in all its seven parts and their many chapters, one very, very long story. If long stories bother you, I suggest you read something else.

No part of this story is written so as to stand on its own. I strongly suggest that you start with the beginning of Part 1 and read sequentially—giving up at any point you choose, of course.

All sexual activity portrayed anywhere in this story involves only people at least eighteen years old.

This entire story is posted only on literotica.com. Any other public posting without my permission in writing is a violation of my copyright.


I returned to the office where I had been that morning. I did not sit at the desk, certainly not behind it. I observed that someone had changed the cushions on the sofa during lunch—and, I presumed but did not verify until later, the sheets on the bed. I thought those cushions must be designed to repel stains and clean up easily. I sat down to wait.

I was very much on edge when there was a knock at the door. I called, "Come in." The door opened, and someone I had never expected walked in: Samantha Bruja. My immediate reaction was to feel as if I had been kicked in the belly.

She hesitated a moment when she saw me, but then closed the door and came over to me. I didn't know whether the hesitation was because it was me, or because of my expression, whatever exactly that was. I must have stood up, because I was standing, facing her. She said, "I'm sorry, Phil. And I hope it's OK to call you Phil—I was told we were to be on first name terms for this week. I had put in my request for you as partner before you said what you did, about not knowing how you'd do if you had to kiss me or take me to bed. I don't think they would have let me change it if I had asked, but I thought that it was unlikely that I, out of all the girls who might request you, would be the one assigned to you. I should have said something to you then, but, well, I did think it very unlikely, and I was afraid of tearing down the little bit of friendship we seemed to be building. But I'm very sorry, as it is."

"I wonder whether whoever made the final assignments—yes, I know it was a committee—was laughing at the thought of this, Bruja. I'm sorry, it is Samantha, and I really will try to remember! But what I put for my partner selection amounted to asking that it be someone reasonably attractive, in particular not fat. I was told that I would be given extra consideration for my choices, and in fact my instructor is the one I asked for, and I felt that requesting a particular partner was a little unfair to everyone else. You're beautiful, very much so. You're certainly not fat. I was given exactly what I asked for.

"And I'm sorry. I certainly will do the best I can! It's what I said last week. I meant it when I said I forgive you, I mean it with all my heart. But somewhere in me, something seems to be kind of frozen. I don't know why, and I hate it, but I see the results. If any other girl as beautiful as you had walked in, I would have been pretty much erect just at the thought that I was about to make love to her, ready to go with almost no more preparation, the problem being only to slow down enough, despite some, um, exercise this morning.

"And it's not your fault, it's mine! You've done everything you possibly could to make things right, and I really do accept that, and as I say you're everything I could ask for in a partner.

"We're going to have to go ahead, anyway. I don't know your instructions. Mine were to make love to my partner, making use of all the techniques I was taught and learned this morning. I hope I can manage the final part, somehow, but most of the earlier parts I should be able to do. I can even hope they'll be pleasing to you, even if I feel kind of like I'm just going through the motions. As I say, I really want to offer you what you're entitled to, but I'm afraid I won't be able to."

"Phil, listen. You don't have to do a thing, if you like. I'll tell them that we did it, and that it was the most wonderful experience of my life. We can take some time getting our stories straight, about what we're supposed to have done."

"Bru—Samantha. I'm sorry. That's not acceptable. First off, we couldn't possibly keep it up, they would figure it out in time. Probably in no time at all! Second, we really do need to practice this stuff, as best we can, and they can't help us if we're not telling them what works and what doesn't. But what really matters most is, I'm not willing to lie, not to that extent, not indefinitely. After a while it would just kill me to do it. I couldn't keep it up. I'd have to tell."

I had a sudden thought, and took a moment to think. "And all that is assuming that they're not recording or watching or at least listening, and I'm sure they have to be. Most likely watching, but at least listening, in fact. Think a bit. What could possibly go wrong if you stick two random seniors in a bedroom together with no more specific instructions than we had. If one of them is someone like Wagner, it could be pretty nasty."

She looked at me, and said, "You know, I'm really glad to hear you say that, except that—that it's going to be really hard, for both of us, to try and try if you can't."

I said, "Look, earlier, you pointed it out yourself, things got easier and worked better, for me I mean, as I did them. I could hold you longer the second time, a lot longer the third. And it really was easier. I mean it. I owe it to you to try and keep trying, and I'm sure I'll respond more as we go along.

"So let's get started. Well, first off, is there anything from your instructions that's much different than what I told you mine said, anything I should know about?"

"The instructions sound pretty much the same, Phil. I don't know what the techniques you referred to are, and I don't know whether I need to tell you about what he told me about making love."

"We'll bring that stuff up if it seems to matter. For now, come over here and kiss me, then."

Holding her and kissing her was kind of strange. On the one hand, she was beautiful, and she had a wonderful figure, and her body was pressed against mine. All this would have had me painfully erect and hard right away, if it weren't Bruja. Samantha. My heart would have been pounding and my breathing harder and faster, practically from the start. None of that was happening. Or, maybe my heartbeat was a tiny bit faster, and my breathing a little irregular, but I thought it was just that kissing was disrupting my breathing some. I'd never thought about it before, but that probably did play a part normally. And maybe something like fear went into it, this time, too.

In any case, I did my absolute best to kiss her like my heart was in it, and it seemed pretty clear it was having an effect on her. I was glad of that. I hoped she would be able to ignore my own lack of response enough that I could make it good for her, even if I couldn't make it all the way.

After a minute or two, I broke off. "Bruja," I started, and then caught myself. I looked her in the face and said, "Samantha, I'm so sorry. I promise, I'm not doing it on purpose. Please forgive me if I forget, and it looks like I probably will again." I hesitated, to make very sure I had the name right before I went on. "Samantha, I forgot, one other instruction was that we were supposed to go through that door over there, into the bedroom that's there. I'm sure it doesn't matter that we got this far in here. Would you mind too much if, um, if I carry you in, over the threshold? Another little trite bit of symbolism, like sealing things with a kiss, to really say I mean that I want to want you. That I'm happy to have you for my partner, except that I can't seem to respond."

She looked at me, and again there were tears in her eyes. "Oh, Phil, please do that. I can't think of a better way to try to move ahead. And please, please stop agonizing over the name. I mean, I want you to call me Samantha, but honestly, you're entitled to call me all sorts of really awful names, anything you want, and have me accept it. How could I ever complain because you're using my last name, especially when I know perfectly well it's just a slip?" She held me tight for a moment, and kissed me again, not so long.

So I said, "Hold on, then," and bent over enough to get my left arm behind her thighs, and swung her up. Her arms quickly moved around my neck, and I carried her over to the door. She tightened her hold a little as I stooped a little to grab the doorknob and turn it, and I pulled the door open and turned sideways enough to carry her in. On impulse, I carried her over to the bed and set her down there, sitting up. I started to look around, but she quickly stood up and held me and kissed me deeply.

When we broke off, she stepped back, and we both looked at the room. Of course, I had seen it earlier, and I doubted her instructor's was much different. It was pretty small, but had a bed, a little narrower than a normal double, I thought, and a nightstand with a lamp on it, and a small chest of drawers. There was a chair with a padded seat, and through a door a small lavatory was visible, which we later found included a shower stall. We also discovered, later, that the chest had fresh clothing for each of us, plus a drawer with bedding and towels and stuff.

I pulled her back to me and kissed her, as hard as I could manage. There might have been the faintest stirring of my cock, but if so, it was so faint I couldn't be sure. I moved my hands to her breasts. Bella hadn't offered any critique of my technique there, so I caressed them the way I always did that. I might not be aroused, but plainly Bruja—Samantha was becoming so. She was panting a little, and I could feel that her nipples were already somewhat erect, but hardening as I stroked, even through all that fabric.

We kissed again, and I began unbuttoning her blouse. I took it off her, and then her bra. Her breasts were beautiful, wonderful overflowing handfuls, and I told her so. I did my best to stimulate them with hands and mouth. She gasped several times at what I did, and then she unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off me, and pressed herself to my chest as she kissed me. Discarded clothes were going on the chair, untidily.

I picked her up again, and laid her on the edge of the bed. I took off her shoes and socks, and stroked and kissed her inner thighs, up to her shorts. I unfastened her shorts, and pulled shorts and underwear off, tossing them on the chair. I took a minute to take off my own shoes and socks, and then pulled her around a little bit and stood her up again. We kissed and kissed, and my hands wandered over ass and breasts, and then one dove down between her legs. She was plenty wet at this point, and I worked to distribute it some, but I was trying to pay attention to all the things Bella had said about what to rub, and how, and when. I thought that even if I had been normally aroused, that would have been kind of distracting.

She was gasping as I fondled sensitive areas. Suddenly, she broke off, and knelt down, and unfastened my shorts, and pulled them down with my underwear. I stepped out of them, and she tossed them over on the chair, too. But her attention was on my cock.

It was a little larger than it might have been, but hanging limp. She took it in her hand, and kissed it, and licked it a little, and stroked. It did respond some, but not very much.

She stood up and told me, "This is almost the only time I've even seen one that wasn't big and hard. I know you aren't holding back on purpose—even if you hadn't told me so, I'm pretty sure that's not something you can fake like that. I have ideas about what I can try to do about it, but that's not something I was instructed in or have done, and if it's OK with you I'd rather not start out there. I know you've had lots of experience, but until this morning my only experience was in gym class, times I got caught and the two times I forfeited, a couple of boys each of those. Is it OK if we get in bed and you see what you can do for me? What more I mean, you have been doing a lot already of course."

I picked her up again, and almost slung her into the bed, then got in beside her. She snuggled against me and kissed me. I tried to pay attention to more than just between her legs—something Bella had mentioned more than once—but definitely to stroke and rub down there every way I hoped would help. Something was going right, anyway. She moaned and gasped, and thrust with her hips, and finally she came. And yes, she was very loud, but after a moment she got her hand across her mouth and muffled the screams and moans and shrieks.

When she was done, she took a few moments to catch her breath some, and then she said, "Oh, Phil, that was wonderful! Thank you! And thanks for the suggestions about stifling some of the noise. I need practice, as you see. This morning I did come once, and I just didn't worry about noise, and he didn't say anything."

She leaned over and kissed me pretty thoroughly. She said, "I think I'd probably better use the lav, and there may not be a better time. Do you want to watch?"

I thought a moment. I didn't know how I would feel if it were anyone else, but it seemed likely to distract me rather than do any good now. "I don't think so. If things start going better, with me I mean, I may at some point." So she got off and went in, and there were noises not really all that much different than if some guy were in there.

She washed her hands and emerged. "Did you know there's a shower in there, too? I wonder whether it's for cleaning up, or for us to play in." She came back over and started to get in with me, and then said, "Why don't you use the lav now, too, while we're interrupted anyway?"

I said, "Do you want to watch?"

"If you don't mind, I'm really curious. And thank you."

So I did, with her standing in the doorway watching, and I needed to more than I had thought.

When I came back to bed, she snuggled against me again and said, "It's really unfair for me to enjoy this so much when you aren't, but is it OK to go on? I mean, I could just lie here and kiss you for a long time, and it won't take much to get me going again I think, but, well, there was more he did to me. If we're supposed to be on the same page, I expect you did all that, too. And I'll really love it if you do, Phil. I certainly didn't come just from his touching me like that."

"If you mean you want me to eat your pussy, we can work up to that, and I'll be happy to do it. If there was something else, I'd better hear about it. You know I'm willing to try anything I can."

"No, that was what I meant. I shouldn't have waltzed around it. It's just, it seems like a lot to ask when you're not getting anything out of it. And I don't just mean your cock in me in the end. It was obvious that doing it aroused him, and he really enjoyed that, and as things are going it probably won't be that way for you now."

"I know exactly what you mean, from experience. And I'll get to enjoy seeing you enjoy it, I already got some of that. Really. In fact, in a way I enjoyed it more, not being distracted by what I want for myself the same way."

I moved in and kissed her, again. As I stroked her body, I told her, "You really are beautiful, you know, and your body is just wonderful. It's a pity it's all being wasted on me right now. I can't tell you how much I wish that were different. I don't know what's wrong with me."

She half sat up, propping herself on an elbow, and looked at me. "Phil, listen to me right now. Please stop apologizing and agonizing over it. If I had sliced into you with a knife a few weeks ago, it might be about healed by now, but it might still hurt some. If I kept slicing at you, not really all that deep, but over and over for three years, you'd at best have a scar that would probably hurt or give you other troubles. Well, it wasn't your body that got sliced up, but I hurt you over and over for three years, and you've got the scars to prove it.

"It's my fault, and I wish desperately that I could just undo it, but I can't. I owe you anything you want from me, that I can possibly give you or do for you. I could never ask for anyone as willing to forgive as you've been. And here you're willing to try to really make love to me, in spite of everything." She was crying now. "I'd rather you beat me with a whip, than to have you feeling that it's somehow your fault that you don't want me. And instead, you are being so good to me! When John made love to me this morning, I finally came, but it was nothing like as good as—as when I did it to myself, that time you asked about. The physical part was all there, but I didn't really want him, not the way I want you. And that time by myself was nothing at all compared to what you just did to me with just your fingers, when I got to have you holding me and kissing me, either.

"So make love to me any way you can. Please. And stop worrying that you're somehow shortchanging me. It's the other way around, and it's too late to fix it."

Her beauty might not be having a proper effect on me, but her tears were. I don't mean sexual arousal, though it seemed there was actually some of that, I mean a desire to hold her and comfort her and make it all better. I didn't see how I could do the last, but the first two I could, and I took her in my arms and pillowed her head on my chest and stroked her head and her back. "Bruja—I'm sorry, Samantha, dear, it's OK, really. I'm sorry I made you cry. You're doing your best for me, and no one could do more. Please." I just held her until the tears finally ran down.

She sat up and reached for a tissue from a box on the nightstand. She wiped her eyes and face, and blew her nose. There wasn't a wastebasket visible, though I thought there was one in the lav, and she just tossed the tissue onto the nightstand. She lay down beside me again, and put her arms around me, and looked me in the eyes. "Phil. You just make love to me, as much as you can, any way you can, and I'll be the happiest girl in our class. Somewhere, I bet one of them has already come four or five times, and her guy is on his third, and I'm happy you're my partner not him. Do you understand me? I really do mean it. I'm your temporary partner, not your wife, but I'm really happy to be that—for better or for worse! Right now, kiss me, and then see what you can do with your tongue, and we'll see what happens after that. Please?"

I kissed her as thoroughly as I could. And caressed and so on, I don't have anything new to say about that, except that maybe this time it was arousing me a little bit, so little I couldn't be sure.

It really didn't take all that long before she was showing signs herself of being pretty ready. She was responding to what my fingers were doing much as she had earlier. I thought carefully, and managed to call her by her first name without fumbling—except mentally. "Samantha, I'm going to move you a little to where I can get at you more easily, without twisting myself into a pretzel." I kissed her once more, quickly, then slid myself out onto my knees on the floor, and pulled her legs around. I carefully began by licking quite a bit of thick saliva around, which I thought wasn't really necessary at that point, and began with some of what Bella had said were less sensitive areas. I put a finger into her vagina, trying to find a spot that would be helpful, and kissed and licked very gently at some of the really sensitive areas. She moaned loudly, gasping when my tongue hit certain places. She pulled her hips back away from me, and then thrust back at me. After a few minutes of this, she came, and this time she didn't stifle any of her vocal noises at all. I tried to provide gentle, even pressure with my mouth, not moving much, not licking any specific places, given what Bella had said, and one or two of my girls in like circumstances as well.

WilCox49
WilCox49
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