The Poet Pt. 01

But at last his cock slipped wetly out of her, and then he rolled off and collapsed onto his back next to her. It was an inexpressible moment, and for once Blake was at a loss for words. They were both drenched in sweat, their bodies glistening with exertion. Presently Rowena nestled up against his body, toying with the soft hairs on his chest, and then sliding her hand down to take that aching cock in her hand and giving it a few gentle tugs.

And to her delight (but not entirely to her surprise), she saw and felt it getting hard while she kept a firm grip on it. This time she suggested rear entry--and Blake was stunned and delighted that she liked it that way. For her part, Rowena found the accommodation of such a large, thick cock into her posterior a true challenge, and she was proud to have managed it: not only did she come twice during the twenty minutes that Blake was in her butt, but she coaxed a third giant emission out of him. After that, they decided they'd earned a rest and collapsed into a drugged sleep.

That's how it started. Pretty soon they were an "item" throughout the campus, and the other students found much amusement in the union of this former wild girl with the misanthropic young poet. They found a bigger and nicer apartment for themselves and had a great time pretending to be a married couple going to class, making meals together--and, of course, fucking.

To Blake it was a lot more than just carnality, and he professed his love for his first and only sweetheart in flamboyant terms. Rowena took this with lofty sophistication, although she was secretly thrilled that those magic words "I love you" had actually been directed to her for the first time.

But all was not well with the pair, and the root of the trouble came out one April night after an energetic bout of sex that resulted in three orgasms for each of them.

Blake was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He'd been quiet for some time, and Rowena, snuggling next to him, finally asked him if something was bothering him.

He remained quiet, and she was on the verge of repeating her question when he blurted out, "How many men have you had?"

Somehow she hadn't expected him to say that. She figured that he'd put her sordid past behind him, as she had done. So she stammered, "Um, I--I don't know."

"You don't know?" Blake said incredulously. "How can you not know?"

"Blake, dear," she pleaded, "it wasn't as if I kept count! There were lots--you know that about me. You even wrote a poem about it, remember?"

He was not to be distracted. "You have no idea? Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred?" His voice rose with each word he spoke.

She sighed. "I told you, I don't know exactly. Probably... more than a hundred."

"That many?" he whispered weakly.

"Yes, that many!" She was getting annoyed. "Oh, Blake, what does it matter? All that stuff happened way before you even knew me! And I've told you, I'm not that way anymore. It got boring after a while, so I stopped--and for at least half a year I've been a good girl. I've certainly not had any guys since we became intimate. So what's the big deal?"

Blake, still staring up at the ceiling and refusing to look at her, said softly, "It shows what kind of a person you are."

Now Rowena was really angry. "Oh, it does, does it?" she cried, propping herself up on her elbow with eyes blazing. "And what kind of person would that be? You're saying I'm a slut, a whore, a tramp? You men have been very creative coming up with all sorts of nasty words to describe women who like sex." She breathed heavily, then went on. "I don't get you guys. You all want to get into our pants, but you get offended when we show the least interest in getting into your pants! It's like you want every girl to be a virgin, so that she's all 'pure' when you dip your cock into her cunt. Well, sorry, buster, but it doesn't work that way!"

Blake's face suddenly crumpled into misery, and he flung himself onto Rowena, saying, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" He held her so tight she had trouble breathing.

"It's okay, Blake," she said, stroking the back of his head. "Just take it easy."

"You're not mad at me, are you?" he whined. The thought of losing this incredible female was petrifying to him.

"No, of course not. I guess I can understand your feelings. But let's just go on and forget the past. It's the future we need to think about."