- Fri Jan 26, 2018 7:30 am
#99273
This is a story from my freshman year of college. I was a troubled and angry guy going to school in the woods of Maine. I drank too much and smoked too much pot. I threw up in public restrooms. I spent whole days in my dorm room having solitary mood swings. I was oversexed. After bouts of masturbation, I would walk around campus and become aware of my dick. After intercourse, I’d walk around whatever room I was in and become aware of my dick. Later, I’d feel it sticking to the insides of my boxers.
During the first semester, I dated a girl named Kat. Our relationship started in November and went south over winter break. She had health issues and feelings for another guy. She said we should take a break. I took that very literally at the time. I came back to school, started fucking other people, and so did she. But we also started seeing each other again. So it was weird. One night in late January I was at one party and she was at another. I had been nineteen for about a month. That day I felt stomach pumped with life.
The party in question was in my buddy's dorm room. It was meant to be a cocktail party, but that had devolved. Now we just drank. I was seven shots deep and flirting with a girl whose name I don't remember. She was close enough that I could have reached out right then and touched her back and felt her bra through her sweater. But I wasn’t there just yet.
Then my phone buzzed. It was Kat. I excused myself. I talked to Kat in the hall. I was drunk; she was wasted. She wanted to see me. Some creepy guy was coming on to her at her friend Renata's party and she didn't feel good about it.
I told her at first, "I'm with my friends, I can't..."
I was not a gentleman.
She said, "It's okay, Tom, I'm drunk, it's fine..."
That’s when I started to feel bad. Also I wanted to get laid. Even though it had only been a few days, I needed sex. I needed to not jerk off. That was my New Year’s resolution. All sexual release via getting pussy. No dick in hand. So I made arrangements to get a ride over to Kat’s friend Renata's trailer home (remember, rural Maine).
I stood outside in the freezing cold at 1:00 in the morning. The snow and ice were indistinguishable at this point. Everything was rigid, life was frozen. Renata's boyfriend arrived out of the darkness in his pickup truck. As I climbed in, I was surprised to see someone else in his car. Someone I knew. Her name was Becca. I'd hooked up with her much earlier in the year. She might have been the first person I hooked up with that year. She’d blown me and I’d fingered her in a shared dorm bathroom. I hadn’t seen her since. But here she was, in the car, apparently friends with Renata, Kat, their whole crew. We awkwardly greeted each other. We were off.
When I arrived at the party, most people had cleared out. The creepy guy was gone. Kat was in high spirits. We embraced and she kissed me and her tongue felt warm and thick with liquor. I had my arm around her for the rest of the night. We smoked her clove cigarettes and drank from her bottle of vodka. Kat was a year older than me. She had black haired, pale skin. She listened to Queens of the Stone Age. She had a thing for necklaces and retro hats.
Becca stuck around near the coffee table, talking quietly with some girls who included Renata. Then she vanished. I assumed she had gone home. When Renata and her boyfriend finally went to bed, Kat and I got busy.
We pulled out the couch bed that we'd already fucked on a bunch of times. We made out and I massaged her back with one hand. I felt her bra through her silk shirt; it was dark and freezing and she was wearing a silk shirt. I hiked her shirt up and felt her skin. I moved my thumb up her spine. I unhooked her bra with that one hand. One strap, two strap and (c’mon, c’mon…) three. I had fumbled with straps for years. The payoff was watching a chick shrug it off the rest of the way and then you’d see her tits in full. Kat shrugged. (I was reading Atlas Shrugged; that time in life). I watched her expression, her blue eyes that looked ahead so evenly, as if she felt nothing, even though I could hear her breaths going in and out, heavier by the inhale. I curled my thumb around one of her nipples. I slid my hand over her breast. More inhales and exhales.
Minutes later, pink labia swelled against my tongue. I licked her really chaotically, pushing in, pulling out, moving in circles. Above me I heard inhale exhale inhale exhale. The tip of my tongue ran into rough territory against her pubic prickles. I had to flick it side to side. I pressed two of my fingers on to her clit. She reacted to that with something more sonic than an inhale. I pressed my face closer to her pubic mound and listened to her noises.
Kat got sloppier. I stuck my fingers inside her to feel the full extent of sloppiness. I felt her seize my hair. She expressed herselfin about three gasps. She let go of my hair.
(A few days before, I’d looked in the mirror after eating pussy. Slick chin, slick lips. I knew I’d never see that girl from work, whatever her name was, again).
I lay on top of Kat, pushing my cock into her, her helping me guide me inside. I watched her mouth open more and more until her eyes shut and her whole head tilted. That was when I was all the way in. I had so much more stamina then than I do now. I wasn’t wearing a condom. Fuck that. It had been Kat’s idea from the start of our relationship; she'd insisted, she was on the pill. I moved in and out slowly and steadily. She inhaled in these fluttery gasps that were her trademark. They sounded like (inhaleinhaleinhale) a-haha-a-haha-aaahhh. She exhaled in sighs. She was trying not to wake the (trailer) house. But at some point she whispered in my ear, "Go as hard and as fast as you want..." I didn’t know how to tease. I kind of knew how to rough sex. The mattress started to see-saw.
The next thing I remember is watching her pussy move up and down on my cock and seeing her legs jiggle against the mattress on both sides of my waist. I heard the sound of my nuts going slap slap slap against her and her tits flopping around. I heard her from above, ah ah ah ah fuck ah ah ah, but I concentrated on the movement of her hips. I had my hands on her waist and was helping her bounce. The alcohol helped me withhold my orgasm.
And at this point, I heard a door open across the room. I thought, shit this is awkward. A figure hurried across the room. Kat rasped out, "Yes!" as the figure hurried, as if loving that we were being watched, but I think she was saying yes to what my dick was doing.
I heard this person peeing in the bathroom and over that I heard the sounds Kat and I made. Kat’s breathing was
"Kat's breathing was hyper. She'd reached a very high register."
orgasm11.jpg (59.69 KiB) Viewed 8384 times
hyper. She’d reached a very high register.
She whispered, "Ah ah ah Tom, I'm gonna cum ah ah ah..."
The tip of my cock was swarming with alive nerves, with signals to blow, but I forced myself to withhold this sensation.
She squeezed me with her thighs and it felt like she was squeezing the cum out of me. As I shot my load inside Kat, the door to the bathroom opened and I saw who it was; it was Becca. She was staying here tonight. I could not believe it. What sort of coincidence was this? Why this night? Becca rushed across the room and as she did my waist was squeezed by thighs. She shut her door and Kat sigh-yelped. I kept was still unloading jizz. Kat stopped and sat on me, arms on pillow, looking at me. Her green eyes even in the winter darkness. I unloaded the last load of semen into the now static wet oblivion.
Afterwards, I vomited in the toilet bowl. The taste of liquor, the aftertaste of labia. When I returned, Kat had cleaned out fluids from the sheets. A wad of used tissues lay on the floor. Before we fell asleep she asked me, laughing, "Oh my god, who the fuck was that?"
I said I didn't know but it wasn't Renata. I lay a hand on Kat’s back and she lay against my shoulder. I glanced at Becca’s door. I swear on Kat’s backbone; it was cracked.
In my dorm room the next day, I typed into a chat window; Dude I fucked the shit out of Kat last night. I pressed enter and it sent to my high school buddy out in California, so many layers of heat away. I heard the radiator turn on and clank. My dick was getting hard. I saw the bubble in the chat window that indicated a response was being typed. My dick got a little harder. I was hardly thinking about anything, though.
Days later, with Kat not answering my calls or texts, I got in touch with Cheryl, the short freckled girl on the second floor who was hooking up with another guy at the time. She’d made overtures to me before. She seemed half interested and half upset when I talked about my girlfriend. Under her sheets, her legs jutting straight up in to the air, I went as hard and as fast as I wanted. I lasted just a few minutes. When I felt myself nutting inside of her, my cock again unprotected, free and trapped, I clenched my teeth and grunted out,
“Kat…”
Kat and I officially broke up not long after. We embraced in the student center and muttered into each other’s ears that we’d keep in touch, yes we’d still be friends. We didn’t. I do know that she is a mother of two already, married twice. I know that through social media. I don’t know much else.
But I do remember how, after we broke up, I saw her and Becca walking together on campus, from a distance, when most of the snow had melted. They were chatting. About who knows what. They didn't see me. I moved on. A water drop from an icicle pinged off my head. I felt hot in my winter jacket. Spring was here.
During the first semester, I dated a girl named Kat. Our relationship started in November and went south over winter break. She had health issues and feelings for another guy. She said we should take a break. I took that very literally at the time. I came back to school, started fucking other people, and so did she. But we also started seeing each other again. So it was weird. One night in late January I was at one party and she was at another. I had been nineteen for about a month. That day I felt stomach pumped with life.
The party in question was in my buddy's dorm room. It was meant to be a cocktail party, but that had devolved. Now we just drank. I was seven shots deep and flirting with a girl whose name I don't remember. She was close enough that I could have reached out right then and touched her back and felt her bra through her sweater. But I wasn’t there just yet.
Then my phone buzzed. It was Kat. I excused myself. I talked to Kat in the hall. I was drunk; she was wasted. She wanted to see me. Some creepy guy was coming on to her at her friend Renata's party and she didn't feel good about it.
I told her at first, "I'm with my friends, I can't..."
I was not a gentleman.
She said, "It's okay, Tom, I'm drunk, it's fine..."
That’s when I started to feel bad. Also I wanted to get laid. Even though it had only been a few days, I needed sex. I needed to not jerk off. That was my New Year’s resolution. All sexual release via getting pussy. No dick in hand. So I made arrangements to get a ride over to Kat’s friend Renata's trailer home (remember, rural Maine).
I stood outside in the freezing cold at 1:00 in the morning. The snow and ice were indistinguishable at this point. Everything was rigid, life was frozen. Renata's boyfriend arrived out of the darkness in his pickup truck. As I climbed in, I was surprised to see someone else in his car. Someone I knew. Her name was Becca. I'd hooked up with her much earlier in the year. She might have been the first person I hooked up with that year. She’d blown me and I’d fingered her in a shared dorm bathroom. I hadn’t seen her since. But here she was, in the car, apparently friends with Renata, Kat, their whole crew. We awkwardly greeted each other. We were off.
When I arrived at the party, most people had cleared out. The creepy guy was gone. Kat was in high spirits. We embraced and she kissed me and her tongue felt warm and thick with liquor. I had my arm around her for the rest of the night. We smoked her clove cigarettes and drank from her bottle of vodka. Kat was a year older than me. She had black haired, pale skin. She listened to Queens of the Stone Age. She had a thing for necklaces and retro hats.
Becca stuck around near the coffee table, talking quietly with some girls who included Renata. Then she vanished. I assumed she had gone home. When Renata and her boyfriend finally went to bed, Kat and I got busy.
We pulled out the couch bed that we'd already fucked on a bunch of times. We made out and I massaged her back with one hand. I felt her bra through her silk shirt; it was dark and freezing and she was wearing a silk shirt. I hiked her shirt up and felt her skin. I moved my thumb up her spine. I unhooked her bra with that one hand. One strap, two strap and (c’mon, c’mon…) three. I had fumbled with straps for years. The payoff was watching a chick shrug it off the rest of the way and then you’d see her tits in full. Kat shrugged. (I was reading Atlas Shrugged; that time in life). I watched her expression, her blue eyes that looked ahead so evenly, as if she felt nothing, even though I could hear her breaths going in and out, heavier by the inhale. I curled my thumb around one of her nipples. I slid my hand over her breast. More inhales and exhales.
Minutes later, pink labia swelled against my tongue. I licked her really chaotically, pushing in, pulling out, moving in circles. Above me I heard inhale exhale inhale exhale. The tip of my tongue ran into rough territory against her pubic prickles. I had to flick it side to side. I pressed two of my fingers on to her clit. She reacted to that with something more sonic than an inhale. I pressed my face closer to her pubic mound and listened to her noises.
Kat got sloppier. I stuck my fingers inside her to feel the full extent of sloppiness. I felt her seize my hair. She expressed herselfin about three gasps. She let go of my hair.
(A few days before, I’d looked in the mirror after eating pussy. Slick chin, slick lips. I knew I’d never see that girl from work, whatever her name was, again).
I lay on top of Kat, pushing my cock into her, her helping me guide me inside. I watched her mouth open more and more until her eyes shut and her whole head tilted. That was when I was all the way in. I had so much more stamina then than I do now. I wasn’t wearing a condom. Fuck that. It had been Kat’s idea from the start of our relationship; she'd insisted, she was on the pill. I moved in and out slowly and steadily. She inhaled in these fluttery gasps that were her trademark. They sounded like (inhaleinhaleinhale) a-haha-a-haha-aaahhh. She exhaled in sighs. She was trying not to wake the (trailer) house. But at some point she whispered in my ear, "Go as hard and as fast as you want..." I didn’t know how to tease. I kind of knew how to rough sex. The mattress started to see-saw.
The next thing I remember is watching her pussy move up and down on my cock and seeing her legs jiggle against the mattress on both sides of my waist. I heard the sound of my nuts going slap slap slap against her and her tits flopping around. I heard her from above, ah ah ah ah fuck ah ah ah, but I concentrated on the movement of her hips. I had my hands on her waist and was helping her bounce. The alcohol helped me withhold my orgasm.
And at this point, I heard a door open across the room. I thought, shit this is awkward. A figure hurried across the room. Kat rasped out, "Yes!" as the figure hurried, as if loving that we were being watched, but I think she was saying yes to what my dick was doing.
I heard this person peeing in the bathroom and over that I heard the sounds Kat and I made. Kat’s breathing was
orgasm11.jpg (59.69 KiB) Viewed 8384 times
She whispered, "Ah ah ah Tom, I'm gonna cum ah ah ah..."
The tip of my cock was swarming with alive nerves, with signals to blow, but I forced myself to withhold this sensation.
She squeezed me with her thighs and it felt like she was squeezing the cum out of me. As I shot my load inside Kat, the door to the bathroom opened and I saw who it was; it was Becca. She was staying here tonight. I could not believe it. What sort of coincidence was this? Why this night? Becca rushed across the room and as she did my waist was squeezed by thighs. She shut her door and Kat sigh-yelped. I kept was still unloading jizz. Kat stopped and sat on me, arms on pillow, looking at me. Her green eyes even in the winter darkness. I unloaded the last load of semen into the now static wet oblivion.
Afterwards, I vomited in the toilet bowl. The taste of liquor, the aftertaste of labia. When I returned, Kat had cleaned out fluids from the sheets. A wad of used tissues lay on the floor. Before we fell asleep she asked me, laughing, "Oh my god, who the fuck was that?"
I said I didn't know but it wasn't Renata. I lay a hand on Kat’s back and she lay against my shoulder. I glanced at Becca’s door. I swear on Kat’s backbone; it was cracked.
In my dorm room the next day, I typed into a chat window; Dude I fucked the shit out of Kat last night. I pressed enter and it sent to my high school buddy out in California, so many layers of heat away. I heard the radiator turn on and clank. My dick was getting hard. I saw the bubble in the chat window that indicated a response was being typed. My dick got a little harder. I was hardly thinking about anything, though.
Days later, with Kat not answering my calls or texts, I got in touch with Cheryl, the short freckled girl on the second floor who was hooking up with another guy at the time. She’d made overtures to me before. She seemed half interested and half upset when I talked about my girlfriend. Under her sheets, her legs jutting straight up in to the air, I went as hard and as fast as I wanted. I lasted just a few minutes. When I felt myself nutting inside of her, my cock again unprotected, free and trapped, I clenched my teeth and grunted out,
“Kat…”
Kat and I officially broke up not long after. We embraced in the student center and muttered into each other’s ears that we’d keep in touch, yes we’d still be friends. We didn’t. I do know that she is a mother of two already, married twice. I know that through social media. I don’t know much else.
But I do remember how, after we broke up, I saw her and Becca walking together on campus, from a distance, when most of the snow had melted. They were chatting. About who knows what. They didn't see me. I moved on. A water drop from an icicle pinged off my head. I felt hot in my winter jacket. Spring was here.
- By Clownkicker