The Trending of Greg and Ruth

I didn't tense up. My hug remained gentle and firm. But I said, "I'm not ready for a relationship."

"Me neither," she said, and nuzzled my ear. "I just want to have fun." She grinned, and slid a breast along my chest.

I decided to make a positive move in this chess match. "Meg," I said, "Do I talk like I write?"

She looked up and laughed, I think truly delighted. "Absolutely. Any forensic language analyst would nail you after about two paragraphs."

"Anything I can do about that?"

"Not with everything that's already posted. You'd have to transfer to a school where nobody knows you, and then maybe take a vow of silence. But then you'd still leave a trail, term papers and such."

I sagged, feeling hopeless.

She kissed me, eyes sparkling. "It's not so bad. You're the nipple orgasm expert who's taking the world by storm. And a woman three doors down from my room has the prick-massaging breasts that millions of guys desire."

"We're trying to stay anonymous," I muttered.

She looked at me, less amused. After a few seconds she said, "Are you afraid your parents will find out?"

That had never occurred to me, but it was probably true, now that I thought about it. "Yes."

She shook her head. My expression may have been puzzled, at first, and this student detective seemed never to miss a trick. "That's not why," said Meg, wheels turning. "A guy like you, no offense, would have nothing but upside if your secret got out." Another pause. "You really love her, don't you?"

"It's not love!" I barked. "But she's the closest friend I've ever had, and I care about her, and I worry about what she'd have to live with."

Her wheels kept turning. "I might be able to help, if you stop getting other people involved. I can do a little cyber-crimestopping stuff in case somebody on campus seems to be sniffing you out. I can set up bots to misdirect and confuse searches on your real selves. As for 'Greg' and 'Ruth,' sorry, they're trending worldwide."

My own wheel-turning got to something that made me happy. I laughed.

"What?" asked Meg.

"We should do everything possible to keep our real selves from being connected with Greg and Ruth, right?"

"Well, duh."

"So we definitely shouldn't make a how-to breast sex video of ourselves."

She laughed too. "Does she want to do that?"

"She's suggested it. I've been trying to find the best way to shoot it down. Thanks to you, I've got it." Her extra-sensory fun broadcast made me roll over on top of her and hug and grope, saying "Thank you thank you thank you!" That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

She laughed in surprise, but said, "Whoa, tiger! I'm not ready for you to be in charge. Can it wait until morning?"

I sobered up, looking at the woman who I thought was our biggest problem. She was now offering to be a powerful ally. "Would you really help us? Why?"

A little smile. "I like what you're doing. I like that you found each other, and make yourselves happy. I hate what internet trolls do to nice people." I felt a finger between my butt cheeks, descending. "And I really like finding out that you were on to me. You're a lot more intriguing, now that I know you're not a clueless mooncalf."

"I thought you wanted to wait until morning," I said, twitching away from a touch near my anus.

She batted her eyelashes. "Can't I learn more about the man I'm going to sleep with?" She relented, and withdrew her finger.

I admitted, "I got a heads-up from Ruth that you might know about us."

"And you never let on until just now," she said. "Plus, you have a whole different persona for boob loving. If business doesn't work out, change your major to drama."

There seemed to be more than fun in her smile now, but I didn't want to guess what else was there. I'm still afraid of getting hurt. Like Ruth said, we're not even twenty yet.

I turned off the light. We settled in. I was on the brink of sleep when a barely audible whisper reached my ear.

"Have you ever fucked an asshole?"

***

Greg looked almost giddy when we met for lunch in the student union. Well, I did say that he should make her happy and enjoy himself.

"Obviously, you're feeling good about your grades," I said, unable to keep from grinning. "I'll go first. Through midterms, I'm on track for one A and the rest Bs."

"Got me beat," he said. "I have one C and the rest Bs. But I think I'm catching on to everything, and I might get better."

My smile was wicked. "What if I make the Dean's List and you don't?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it. He settled for, "I shudder to think." Then, "Is the Dean's List in poli sci even a thing?"

That got us into an amusingly snarky tiff over our respective majors and related worldviews.

As we were about to leave for afternoon classes, I asked, "What'll I have to do tomorrow to win you back?"

"Show up."

***

In these posts, which make up our sexual discovery journal, we haven't described every last thing we've done with, to, and for each other. The results of our wider research have been reported in our responses to user comments, but those are scattered all over the site. I'll now summarize everything else Greg and I have looked into, solely for you, the devotees of safe breast sex (and not at all for our own pleasure, heavens no):

The use of one or more hands to assist a titfuck (her fingers making penis contact above/between breasts, or securing the shaft between the boobs, her or his hand pumping the lower shaft or fondling the balls); these can hasten his orgasm, but could delay hers. The use of lube, and its most effective locations and quantities; too much can reduce sensation. Sufficiency of breast size for different configurations of the woman and the man; as Greg noted with Meg, breast placement can matter as much as size. Condom use, to keep those damn droplets out of the woman's mouth and make cleanup less of a bother; in my world, the term 'pearl necklace' doesn't make it any more desirable. Cues for the man to pick up, on whether his breast touching and licking are working for the woman; talk to him, sweetly but firmly. What to do about armpit hair and odor; women, wash up, and men, deal with it.

There is no requirement for breasts to receive the only stimulation. A gallant gentleman is certainly welcome to finger his lady's clitoris and vagina, if this adds to her pleasure while she bangs his bone with her gazongas. Note, however, that the hand should be clean to keep the sex safe.

We regret (in several respects) that we are unable to report on something many people yearn for, the titfuck blowjob. I am very happy with what Greg's penis does for me, but it is not of inhuman length. Also, my neck is short and not exceptionally flexible. The closest we've come to this ideal is some licking of the head of the prick as it pushes above my cleavage. Greg likes that, but we don't try to injure ourselves maximizing it.

Greg is, however, too big for a full enclosure by my breasts when the penis is pushed directly at the sternum. Or perhaps I am too small. We like ourselves as we are, so we are content to find other routes to pleasure.

We have also looked into actions mentioned by so many of you, almost certainly from porn viewing. Greg has stated quite clearly that he gets no thrill from stopping a titfuck to jerk off onto a woman's breasts or face. I have added that I certainly get no thrill from him doing that. We will not, however, try to deter anyone from finding out how they feel about this.

We admit that there is one porn-derived action that might offer some benefit. If the woman's breasts have been given lavish treatment, and she is highly aroused, then slapping the head of the prick against the nipples might produce a few thrills. These would not, however, substitute for continued stimulation by hand and mouth.

We have seen that many female couples have made great progress in mutual nipple orgasm, and we have nothing to add to that. Greg says that he does not feel threatened by this, and he seems to enjoy the posted videos very much.

We have even less to say about male couples enfolding penises between buttocks, without penetration, apart from cheering on any innovation in safe sex.

Finally, we have chosen to forgo extreme forms of stimulation, starting with nipple clamps and progressing into areas we'd rather not even think about. No matter how much we trend, we're fuck buddies. We have no trouble pleasuring each other, and we don't think we need extra equipment.

All that said, we embarked on a new adventure in our post-midterm revel, and I will describe that in detail.

First thing, I got Greg into the shower with me and told him to scrub down thoroughly.

"I thought I was already more presentable," he said.

"Your hygiene is fine," I said. "For what we're doing next, though, I want to make sure that your rear end is really clean."

He frowned. "What will you do there?"

"Nothing, and I hope you don't either. I'm going to be closer to it than usual. Passing gas could make this unpleasant."

"I'll try to hold it in," he said, sounding not at all amused. "Is this something we'll actually enjoy?"

"You can never be sure until you try," I said briskly. I got on a bed, and lay on my back, with my head dangling off the end. "Stand on the floor at the end of the bed, straddle my head, and fuck my tits while I suck your balls."

"Whaaa...hmmm."

A fascinating progression from startled to interested.

"When do I get you off?" he asked, assuming the position.

"Don't bother this time, I'm just testing out this arrangement."

"Nope," he said, stepping back. He leaned over my torso, gathered my breasts in both hands, and started kissing them.

"Very nice," I said, "but I need to concentrate." Then I gasped, as his tongue slithered down between the boobs.

"I need to do research on this configuration too," he murmured, tracing around a nipple with the back of a fingernail. I jolted, head flapping into his overhanging gut.

"Damnit, I'm trying to do something!" I reached back blindly, flailing for his balls.

"So am I," he said, in what he thought was a seductive murmur. Greg? Seductive? Puh-leeeeze! Never mind that my self-lube fizzed up into my pubic hair.

I snagged his prick and hauled it to my upside-down face. "Okay, see how well you can concentrate!" I packed at least half of it into my mouth.

He gasped, one hand losing grip, drool trickling down my torso. My other hand found his balls, and squeezed. He said something like "Eeeaauugghhhh!"

I let go of him and tried to speak calmly. "If you insist, we can take turns. Just let me do this by myself for a little while, uninterrupted."

"Okay," he said, somehow sounding sprightly while breathing heavily.

He stepped closer to the bed and held still, mostly. He rested his prick between my boobs and let me enfold them. I think he joined his hands behind his back. I opened wide enough to get both balls in my mouth, then tongued them as I closed. My nose ended up about an inch shy of his anus. I rolled my breasts along his shaft in the same pattern and speed I used to roll my tongue along his testicles. His breathing got louder.

After a couple minutes, having gotten him to wheezy grunts, leg tremors, and sweat dripping down from his hair, I decided that my neck could use a break. I pulled my mouth away from his balls and said, "Okay, big shot, you want a turn? Fine, we'll just postpone the release you need so desperately."

"Glad, to oblige," he huffed, staggering back a step and leaning down. He started giving me his usual fine breast love, only upside down. His mouth and hands trembled. Very soon, most of me trembled too. He was gentle on one breast, rough on the other, then alternated, mouth doing the opposite of the hand as it went back and forth. My ass clenched, my back arched.

"Prick again!" I yelped. He lurched it past my head and between my mams, which four hands squeezed and rolled. I got my mouth on his balls again and sucked, tasting sweat. He howled. The putz flexed against my compressing meat. Hot spunk jetted onto my gut. He howled louder. I started cumming, somehow keeping my teeth away from his balls.

Then his balls popped free as his torso levered onto me. He grabbed my hips. His face landed on my pussy and he licked and sucked. I yelled upward at his ass and the legs now dangling in mid-air, drowning him out.

It wasn't long at all before I rasped, "Off please!"

He rolled to the side. I raised my head, then awkwardly porpoised until all of me was on the bed. My neck ached.

"That was insane," I said eventually. "Partly in a good way."

"We were both T-F-ers and T-F-ees," he grunted.

"I guess."

For most of the rest of my visit, he massaged my neck.

After a pussyfuck and a shower, back in bed cuddling, I asked, "Anything you want to tell me about Meg?"

He summarized, and I was pleased to hear that she was on our side. But I returned to their connection. "Because of what I'm about to say, you should admit that you like her a lot."

That got a worried look from him, along with "I like her a lot."

I put a hand on his cheek. "I've been private-messaging with a guy I knew in high school. Did that on and off, even last year, but back then I didn't think I was in his league. The last couple weeks, we've been expressing more interest in each other. Over Thanksgiving break, we're going to catch up, maybe go to a movie."

His mouth tightened. Then, with a little smile: "I hope he doesn't do forensic language analysis."

I put a pillow over my face and said, "Suffocate me now."

***

Tuesday night, bookish bar. One more day of classes before Thanksgiving break. Ruth and I weren't actually dieting, but we'd managed to swear off junk food as a mutual challenge. I had lost three pounds, but that was probably within a daily water-weight variation. I didn't ask about her weight, but she looked good generally. Had been for a while, as she'd noted.

Six months ago, in this bar, two lonely people had clumsily agreed to hook up. Tonight, after making our presence felt in the discussion group, we were continuing on that topic and others, together and separately in small groups. One of the male know-it-all extroverts was trying to flirt with Ruth. She did a little flirting back, but mostly parried. I was amused to watch this, and also to see Meg, pretty much doing the same, holding court to three men. One of them was Carlos.

Things were already different. But some things remained the same. Ruth and I spent a little time at a table by ourselves.

She touched her beer glass to mine. "Safe trip."

"You too. And have fun." I winked.

She rolled her eyes. "We're just going to see a movie and talk."

I let it go, and didn't say that a lot could happen in four days.

"If we do wind up with significant others," she murmured, "they'll have to agree to us needing breakup sex. Maybe for a couple years."

"Definitely not past graduation."

"Graduation?" She sneered. "Is a degree in business even a thing?"

That got us going.

Then Meg pulled up a chair. "I like it here," she said. "That's about as long as I can ever go without cracking a joke, but once in a while is okay."

The ensuing conversation was no big deal. We enjoyed it thoroughly.

We walked to their dorm. Ruth hugged us both, and went inside. Meg continued with me.

Ruth and I may not be letting each other go. But, dear readers, we are letting you go. We think we've shared with you as much we can about our kind of breast sex. (I mean, that thing with the ball sucking was just plain weird, unforgettable a few different ways.) Anyway, what we do from now on may be none of your business. We are ready, and eager, to stop trending. Go ye forth, friends. Let breasts find all the pleasure they may seek. Let pigs be put in blankets. Be happy.

The end