tagNonConsent/ReluctanceThe Taming of the College Star

The Taming of the College Star


Stephanie Fahey was by far the cutest girl in my college biology class. We were freshmen, both away from home for the first time, and we happened together by the chance of our last names being similar.

Lab partners we were, and over time friends outside of the class room and lab as well.

But that was it: friends.

The lovely, long-brown haired girl was a picture of perfection, a recently turned 19 with a fantastic body that looked great in a snug pair of jeans. Her baggy shirts belied the bountiful breasts she hid, but on the rare occasions when I dropped of class work to her dorm room and she met me wearing a tee shirt and sweat pants --- the ones with "Pink" written across the behind, I was in utter awe.

I had a crush on the girl, but it seems so did everyone in the college. Stephanie seemingly dated a different boy every weekend. Week nights were not for dating, she was a relentless studier, and we'd spend one or two nights a week as study partners in math as well as biology.

The more time I spent with her, the more my crush expanded. Whatever the reason, though, I knew we wouldn't get together. She never looked at me like she looked at other guys. She'd comment on their looks, brains and sports prowess, adoring from afar. And one of "those" guys asked her out she'd date them. Never anything serious, she enjoyed her popularity but she confided she really enjoyed her freedom.

Nothing was going to tie her down before she wanted to be in a relationship. And I clearly wasn't on her list...I was a friend, lab partner and Boy Friday, running to the store on and errand for her, judge of her outfits while shopping, you name it. But there was nothing between us in the romance department.

We'd cut up on each other in lab class as we were cutting into dead critters. She'd joke about my hair (to this day I have a hard time keeping it with a kept look) or lack of muscle, while I'd joke about her being fat (yes, if two ounces past perfect was fat) or the strange twang she had from her southern upbringing.

When I learned she was actually born in West Virginia before moving to Maryland, I'd remind her of every faux pas she might make that "It figures, coming from a backwater state where cousins are more than family, their boyfriend or girlfriends." Okay, so maybe she didn't sleep with a cousin, it sounded like a good a dig.

We'd share coffee at the student union or downtown at The Talented Bean, the local coffee shop. On a few occasions we'd visit the "TB" as we called it after a round of studying and listen to local artists do their acoustic thing. I'd think of these occasions as a sort of date, while Stephanie, I'm sure, thought of it as time with a friend. Even the peck on the cheek she'd give me when I walked her back to her dorm was brother like.

Still I was on cloud nine when spied by others walking side-by-side with the pretty girl.

Stephanie had a superb body, one that I used when I made love to my hand late nights when my roommate was asleep. It's funny, when I'd masturbate thinking of other girls I'd think of banging them hard in unusual places, like in the woods or at a park or office. But when I did myself thinking of Stephanie she'd always be very loving as we gently made love with each other in a comfy, cozy bedroom.

Maybe it was that I thought of her as pure, maybe it was because I couldn't imagine her doing naughty things even behind closed doors. Whatever, I'd blast my stuff all over my bedspread when thinking of that perfect girl.

Every once in a while Stephanie would mention a guy she was seeing while we were together, and it was like a dagger in the back. Oh, obviously we weren't in that kind of a relationship where I should be jealous, still it hurt when she talks about the guys she was seeing. I knew sooner or later she'd fall for someone and a romance would blossom.

That one was Roger, a football star destined for All-America honors. After they'd been dating for a while I figured he was probably getting into Stephanie's pants on a regular basis. Heck, rumor was that he'd fucked his way through a wave of girls, and it always pained me to think he was doing Stephanie.

I'd imagine them screwing and wondered if he was considerate with her. I hoped so, I know on several occasions I dreamed of sneaking around and watching them doing "it" while I watched as a pepping Tom from outside the room. In this fantasy Stephanie would always be on her hands and knees, taking him from behind, so that I could see him bouncing against her ass while her breasts swayed freely and her hair whipped side to side.

Hey, it was my fantasy, and I could have her do anything I liked, right? I wondered if she gave good head, if she willingly blew guys or if they had to beg for it. Did she spit or swallow? Did she have many different partners? Could she cum with them? Oh, if only I could read her mind or view her diary!

Midway through the second semester after intense studying for midterms Steph and I had had it with the books. We decided to hit the TB in search of some decaf and entertainment, and spent the next couple hours swaying in our seats to the fine sounds of a local acoustic performer. She wanted to learn to SCUBA dive while I wanted to kayak some rapids.

We'd talk between sets, mostly of school but sometimes of home, summer plans and other classes and classmates.

On the way home she hit me with a bombshell: "Do guys only think about sex? I mean, is it a 24/7 thing with you guys?"

I looked at the girl and saw she was serious. She was, and I had no idea what to say.

"Well?" asked the girl.

"I think most guys think about sex a lot, sure," I cautiously replied, not knowing whether to be open or coy with my answer. "Why, do you want to go into the bushes and find out what I am thinking?"

Stephanie laughed. "In your dreams, bozo, in your dreams...it's just that most of the guys don't want to get to know you. Oh, they want a date, but they go from A to C without lingering on B. They have no problem with asking for, no, demanding sex. It's quite unsettling."

I said I didn't think all guys were that way, but that we did think about sex a lot.

"You know, Steph, that you are very beautiful and I am sure guys are very attracted to you. Why do you ask?"

Stephanie didn't answer, just continued to walk. I could tell her mind was running, that something was bothering her, but was afraid to bring up.

"Stephanie, you can count on me. If you want to talk, I am here for you. You are very important to me, not only as a classmate but as a friend."

The girl looked over at me, smiled, and nodded her head. She stopped at a bench just inside campus and pulled me over. We sat, and said nothing as we looked at the stars.

"Do you think they are watching us, those aliens out there," questioned the girl, almost seriously.

"If they want to know about humans...sure. You would be a great specimen for them to examine thoroughly, so don't go entering any space craft or anything."

Stephanie smiled and leaned back against the bench, sort of scooting down a bit and gazing up at the sky.

"Roger said I'm a prude for not having sex with him," admitted the girl. "I don't, you know, I draw the line there and it pisses him off. I know he's not used to not getting his way with girls. He has his way with a bevy of women, right behind my back. He's fucking half my dorm, I think, and he's working his way through the cheerleader team one-by-one. I don't want to be on that list."

I was shocked. I just assumed she was fucking the football star. It was almost a requirement in the co-ed handbook. The star was known around campus for his sexual escapades. On one occasion I noticed him kissing a girl goodnight at her dorm, only to wait outside for a few minutes when a different girl appeared and the two went walking hand-in-hand away.

While I often wondered if each of the girls knew about the other, I really wondered whether Stephanie knew because he would tell people that she was his girlfriend. So I couldn't imagine what he told my friend, or what he didn't say.

"I've stumbled upon girls talking about him, about how he's so hot in bed, and it pisses me off."

"So why do you date him?"

She smiled. "Maybe because he's so cute, or that I really do have feelings for him. I've thought I could change his ways, so that he would sow his wild oats and then want only me. Maybe it's that I just fell for him and now don't know what to do about it. But it's so humiliating for me. The other night..."


"Oh Rob it was terrible. I can't believe it, but I think it's true."

Looking at her as if she had been taken by the aliens I asked again what was bothering her.

"We, uh, I don't have sex with him but I do, well, your know, jerk him off. Sometimes I kiss his cock, not really give him a blow job, just kiss it. Normally I just jerk him off and he seems happy I do that. I mean, he doesn't complain about my hand jobs."

She stopped talking for a moment, looking as if she wondered if she could continue. Then the silence was broken as she finished the story.

"I was jerking him off, and, well, he pulled my head down to kiss his dick. I swear I smelled another girl on his, uh, cock. I mean, I don't know, he said I was crazy, but he had a smug look on his face. I could tell he was lying. I think he fucked someone earlier that night then had me kiss him down there and lick the pussy juice off his cock."

I couldn't help my dick from hardening in my jeans. Whatever had gotten into her, maybe it was some kind of truth serum or something, was getting me hot.

"What did you do?"

"I got my head away from his cock, that's for sure. That's gross. Shit, it was like kissing another girls' pussy. Here I had licked it, tasted it, and I can't believe it. And I started thinking about it probably wasn't the first time. A couple months ago I had a feeling he'd been with someone earlier, he had a feint smell of perfume...he claimed it was his cologne but unless guys are wearing strawberry it was from a girl."

The girl stopped her story, looked around as if embarrassed, then got the nerve to continue.

"On several other occasions when I was playing with his dick he insisted I lick his cock. You know, I'd willingly give him a blow job if he just asked nicely, but I will be damned if I just open my mouth whenever he pulled my head down. It has gotten to be a joke for me, I'll be jerking him off, he'd plead, and I will pacify him my kissing his rotten pussy coated dick. If I didn't love him."

"You're probably a lesbian," I said, smiling until her hand pounded against my shoulder. "Ouch!"

Silence loudly struck our conversation as I rubbed my hurting arm.

I broke the quiet with a simple question. "Do you really love him?"

"No," she whispered.

"So dump his ass."

"Oh I will, but on my terms. He broke my heart, he's a total cad, and I want him to pay."

I told her she sounded like a commercial for a credit card security company.

Stephanie looked at me with a wry smile.

"What?" I asked. "What?"

Stephanie looked at me and smiled. "Oh, he will pay, you can bet on that, Mr. Lab partner."

With that she stood and we walked toward the dorm. This time, in addition to a peck on the cheek, she kissed behind my ear. "That's for being such a good listener, Rob, thanks."

I almost shot in my pants.


Over the next two weeks I tried to bring up the topic of Roger's dallying but Stephanie would hear nothing of it. She saw him twice, on their regular dates, as well as a couple times for lunch.

Once she called me over to their table at the student union and asked if I'd be at lab later that day. I assured her I would and I could hear snickering in the background as I walked away from their table.

Wondering what that was all about I asked Stephanie at lab what the joke was.

"No joke, Rob. Roger was giving me attitude about being seen around with you, and I told him he had nothing to worry about....because you are gay."

"You what?"

"Hey, he believed me! He was laughing about it. I didn't tell him you get a hard on from time to time when you see me," laughed the girl.

I was shocked, first by the gay talk and then about my mind of its own dick.

"Oh come on Rob, I couldn't help but see the way you wiggle like you have ants in your pants sometimes. That night on the bench you were popping all around in the moonlight, and I swear if I'd have given you my jacket you'd have put it over yourself and jerked off."

Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. My face was crimson as blood rushed higher in an attempt to explode from the top of the head.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself," I stuttered. ."Sometimes it has a total mind of its own."

Stephanie smiled. "Don't worry about it. It's nice to know you find me, uh, attractive. In any event I really got Roger with that revelation about your sex life. He asked if I knew any of the guys you are with and he was shocked that I did. I told him I actually let you use my dorm room for a tryst with one of your lovers."

I had to suppress a laugh. I mean, on one hand, I was pissed about the character assassination, but on the other I could see Stephanie's point. If I was harmless to her in Roger's mind I could spend as much time as possible with her.


It was business as usual over the next couple weeks, Stephanie and I were well on our way to an A in Biology, all of my other classes were good except for French, and Roger continued his habit of seeing someone before seeing Stephanie. Probably after dates with her too.

"He's still doing it, the bastard, but he will pay," said the girl, nodding her head. "Do you want to know how?"

Of course I did.

"I'll tell you this weekend," said the girl. "Come over Saturday at 8."

I found that odd because I knew she was seeing Roger at 9...she'd mentioned they were going to the big name entertainment show at the arena.

Stopping at the front desk of her dorm on time, Stephanie rang me up to her floor. It was a co-ed dorm with guys on alternating floors from girls. From 10 p.m. until 6 in the morning guys were not allowed in a girl's room, but otherwise could mingle.

Walking down the hall toward her room I wondered what was up, but figured she'd tell me her plan.

She gave me a peck on the cheek when I entered the open door, telling me to get comfortable as she excused herself to go down the hall. When she returned, she asked if I wanted to know how she was going to make Roger pay for his humiliating actions. How the football star would pay for breaking her heart.

How could I not want to know?

She closed the door, telling me it was for privacy.

Sitting on her bed, leaning on the large stuffed bear that sat atop the ruffled covers, I nodded as she said Roger was getting worse. "He doesn't even try to disguise it," said the girl. "He smelled like a hooker the other night. He knows I know, and he's proud of it. The bastard as a lot of nerve."

She told me he taken to calling her names as she jerked him off, and once let slip the name of Courtney, the dorm slut. He said he was joking, fantasizing, but she knew better.

That became apparent earlier in the day. Apparently Courtney had fucked the football hero the week before and blabbed to the world, because of a couple of Stephanie's friends intimated that something was going on between Courtney and her boyfriend. Then Courtney said in a stage whisper with Stephanie in hearing distance that she'd be seeing a football hunk later that afternoon and was "going to milk him dry." Putting two and two together was easy for my honors student friend, and I could tell Stephanie was totally pissed off.

Still I wondered how she was going to get her revenge on the football star.

It didn't take long to find out.

"Can you keep a secret, Rob?"

Nodding my head yes, she moved around and sat on the bed next to me.

"This is difficult. But, well, I am going to come out and say it. Rob, I've never given a blow job."

I looked at her with incredulous eyes.

"Oh, I've given hand jobs, you know that, and I have kissed a couple cocks. But I've never sucked one totally off. Not even half way. You know why?"

I had no idea.

"It's dirty. It's disgusting. It's unnatural. Whores do it, not proper women."

I didn't agree with her, but she was on a roll. I didn't know if she was playing with me, serious, or what, but I just listened as she railed at her boyfriend and his actions.

"Roger fucks anything, and he wants me to suck his cock. Yea, like I want that smelly thing in my mouth."

Nodding my head, not knowing if it was in agreement or concern that saying anything would stop the girl from her rant. My dick hardened in my pants as she continued her talk.

"He's a bastard, a turd. I can't believe I've spent as much time with him as I have. Heck, I loved him. But now Courtney throwing shit in my face is crossing the line. She'd fucked more guys that Blossom down at Lightfoot Bar."

Blossom was known around town to be available for hire, and while I had no official knowledge of her doing untoward actions it was urban lore that she never turned down Benjamins for her lack of virtue. For that matter, the joke was she gave discounts for repeat customers.

Stephanie stood, walked to the window and looked out. She turned, smiled, and walked to the door, locking it.

"So what are you waiting for? Do you need a formal invitation?"

"What," was all I could say?

"Show me your cock," commanded the girl.

Prayers were answered, dreams were coming true. I didn't know what was happening but I heard what she said and I knew I was about to comply with her wish. It's a miracle my zipper didn't snag, but it wouldn't have mattered. My pants were pulled down with lightening speed.

"Your boxers too."

Down they fell, leaving me sitting on her bed naked from the waist down.

Stephanie admired my work, staring at my cock.

Look, I could tell you about my 9-inch dick, but it would be a lie. It's a little more than 6 inches with a decent thickness. Nothing like the porn stars I've seen. It twitched as the girl eyed it, bringing a smile to her face.

"I think he likes me."

Stephanie knelt on the dorm floor, reaching out and grasping my dick. She started slowly stroking it and I swear I had to fight back from shooting a load of baby batter into the air. I assumed I was going to get a fabulous hand job, but I was wrong.

The girl smiled at me as she stroked my dick. "You are so big, and it's so hard," said the girl, who then wriggled her way between my legs. She slowed her stroking, murmuring something about me being a sweet friend. I didn't care what she said, because actions were indeed louder than words. And the hand action on my cock were deafening.

I leaned back against her pillow, luxuriating to her gentle touch. Then I felt something soft and wet against my cock head, and I assumed my pre-cum was leaking all over it. Looking down, though, I saw Stephanie with her tongue slowly lapping at the tip of my cock. She was angelic looking working the head, and I again nearly came buckets.

She could sense my discomfort.

Still, she continued her ministrations, alternating licks and gentle sucks on my dick. Minutes before she said the placement of cock in a woman's mouth was disgusting, now she was sucking my cock.

"Do you want to cum?" asked the girl of my dreams.

"Uh huh," was all I could muster.

"Hold off a second or two," she demanded, and I thought of my mother catching me jerking off to slow my explosion.

Stephanie slowly worked her hand up and down the full length of my cock before grasping it hard at the base. I looked down in fascination as the girl again lowered her head, then time with her mouth in a big "O" as it surrounded the tip. Her lips closed around the cock head, tightening, then slowly made their way down the shaft complete with suction.

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