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This Sunday party was very different from the last one. Actually, it was pretty much the same party, but my reaction wasn’t the same. Last week I was there as a virgin in every respect: new member and never been laid.
Last week I had no idea what to expect. Today I had been to bed with two club members and found not only did I like fucking but that I could please a woman. Tuesday night it was Margery and Friday night it was Karen.
My roommate Pete, my sponsor into the club, wasn’t in the apartment when I came to get my books for my Saturday morning classes, and he didn’t come home that night. He’d told me he had a Saturday date, so I wasn’t surprised. I got up early on Sunday to study in the library and went directly to the club meeting from there. As I came through the front door, I spotted him in an animated conversation with Karen.
Oh god, she’s telling him all about my inadequacies Friday night and making fun of how I didn’t last very long. He’ll really think I’m a dork.
“Yo! Carl! Over here,” he called, waving me to join them. Karen kissed me chastely on the cheek and Pete continued. “Karen has four tickets forHair, the show she’s working on. House seats. Wanna double-date?”
Karen smiled. “It’s really the dress rehearsal, but everything will be in place. Friday’s the opening, these tickets are for Thursday. They’re very good seats.”
“Sure, that sounds like fun. Thanks, Karen.”
“That is one focused woman,” said Pete as Karen moved off to join some other friends.
“That’s for sure,” I parried, not knowing if Pete was fishing for information about her and her ways in bed. When he said “Everybody who’s dated her says that. We’ve been out a couple of times.” I relaxed.
There had to be thirty people in the house by three, which was the deadline for the women to post their tokens of availability on the date board. Many stayed on after posting, either to watch the run-up to March Madness on the big-screen or to socialize. After three it was the men’s time to browse the board for dates. Pete had told me it wasn’t cool to rush to the board, which was in the kitchen, and anyway there was only room for two or three people to stand there.
Just before three Margery rushed through the front door and headed straight to the kitchen. A few minutes later, while I was hollering at the referee on the big-screen, she came over and sat down next to me.
“Hey Carl, nice to see you. And thank you so much for the prints.” We chatted for a few minutes, then she said, “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
She led me to a table where four girls and a guy were deep in conversation. “Hey Cindy, I want you to meet someone.”
A tall, raven-haired girl stood up.
“Carl, this is Cindy. Cindy, Carl.”
Margery moved on and I sat next to Cindy. Soon I was involved in their conversation, which was over “History of Science,” a course I had taken fall semester. I’d done well enough but hadn’t retained much.
Cindy was disdainful of the graduate students who ran the sections and in particular she disliked the one who ran her section.
“It’s really too bad that Professor Schmee doesn’t make sure the grad students reinforce what she’s teaching,” she said. “These guys act like they’re the professor and wander into subjects that she hasn’t covered or handled a week ago. My section leader is a real jerk. If you’re going to take this course, find out who’s your section leader and transfer if it’s him.”
She had the same section leader I had had. I told them that the only reason I’d even gone was for attendance purposes and that this guy ignored the syllabus and handed out his left-wing opinions like they were gospel. When the subject changed, I asked Cindy if she wanted to get some coffee, and we moved to the living room.
“Margery the matchmaker?” I teased.
“She lives down the hall. In fact, she was my reference for joining the club. I’ve only been on campus since the semester started, when I transferred from community college. I’ve only been a member for two weeks.”
“I didn’t know the university took mid-year transfers.”
“I had really good grades and they’re buying out people with single rooms and turning them into doubles, so they had space.”
We talked some more about how she was settling in. Seizing the opportunity for a real date, not a structured encounter, I said, “Hey, are you free on Thursday? I’ve got an extra ticket to the dress rehearsal ofHair that they’re doing at the Carpenter.”
“Sounds like fun. Uh, I’ll have to find out.”
“Token board. I put mine on Friday and Saturday.”
While Cindy’s Saturday token was covered, her Friday token was uncovered. She moved it to Thursday and I covered it. I’d figured on a weekend date and maybe one during the week, so Thursday was fine. But I felt awkward checking out the board for a weekend date in front of Cindy
Actually, maybe I don’t need to go out this weekend. Midterms start on Monday. I need to do kartal escort bayan well on two of them to keep up my B average. My social life is messing up my concentration. But at least I’m not going broke on the dating scene: Dutch treat means dating costs no more than eating alone. And the sex ismuch better.
The dress rehearsal was scheduled for seven-thirty. Cindy and I agreed to meet at the student union mailboxes at five. As she walked in, her shoulder-length hair was set off with a pink blouse and a plaid skirt. Her calf-high boots finished an attractive package, even if the whole thing was buried in a quilted parka against the end-of-winter cold outside.
“Let’s eat at this Indian place I’ve heard about,” she said. I didn’t know whether she meant India Indian or Cherokee and normally wouldn’t have considered either, but what the heck. I hadn’t noticed such a place in the union.
“It’s downtown. We oughta get started, it’s probably half-a-mile from here.”
As we walked, Cindy explained she her interest. “We lived in Mumbai for two years when I was starting high school. My father was the private pilot for a big international construction company. Five years ago, as they were landing in Indiana, the plane hit some unexpected turbulence and the president of the company was thrown against the interior, hard.
“He was bruised but not injured. Two days later, though, he collapsed and died of a heart attack. His wife blamed my father and he lost his job. We were pretty strapped until a pilot friend introduced dad to an Indian industrialist who needed a pilot. So all of a sudden we moved to Mumbai.”
The spicy smell of the restaurant’s foyer and the heavy decorations startled me. We were early enough that we got a spacious table. Cindy ordered for us and told the waiter we wanted separate checks. I had put my camera on the table as soon as we were seated and as we surfed the appetizer buffet I snapped several pictures of the breads and the wait staff, who probably thought I was weird.
The dinner was delicious, even if I’d never experienced anything like it. Cindy’s entrée was a red chicken while mine was a slightly spicy vegetarian dish. The numerous breads were delicious. We swapped plates and I took some more pictures, this time including her. She had a lovely expression as she forked food into her mouth.
“Was it easy living in India? It seems like the poverty, particularly what I’ve read about in Mumbai, would be depressing.”
“We lived in a big foreigners’ compound, but still, we saw a lot of it. We had three servants who would sometimes take my sister Ann and me with them to their homes. Their lives were okay, but the areas where they lived were pretty bad.
“The school in the compound was a traditional English school. Ann and I did really well so that, when we got back to the States, our two years away allowed Ann to skip her freshman year and enter the university as a sophomore.
“My parents couldn’t afford to have both of us here at the same time, so I had to go to community college till Ann finished. She graduated last year.
“I’d skipped half my junior year in high school because of the Mumbai classes and was taking AP classes at CC, so I finished there after three semesters and came here. Technically I’m a second-semester junior.”
I was jolted at the price of the meal, which was more than I’d ever spent on dinner in my life. Even splitting the check was pricey.
We had to hustle to get to the Carpenter a few minutes before the curtain. Our seats were third-row, center. Pete was already there and he introduced us to Marney, who I recognized from the club.
The show was excellent. I’d seen the movie on TV a couple of years ago but this was much more intense. The production was lavish and the actors must have been picked for their stamina because they were in constant motion. Karen must have been in constant motion too, with all the lighting changes and scenery.
Afterward the four of us went backstage and Karen introduced us to the cast. She was soaked in perspiration (but not as much as she was on Friday night) and was elated at how well things had gone.
Pete, Marney, Cindy, and I went for coffee in the student union. It was nearly nine-thirty when they said it was getting late and left.
My apartment was slightly further away than Cindy’s dorm, but she had a roommate and I didn’t, at least not for the evening, so we went there. As we climbed the stairs I realized I had no idea how to transition us into bed.
I hung our coats on the closet-door hook. When I turned around she was holding on to the door frame and levering her left boot off with the toe of her right boot.
“Let me,” I said, with more savoir-faire that I felt. I knelt and pulled the boot off. When we removed her right boot, I held her foot and rolled her sock off, then kissed her instep. She’d been balancing with her hand on my shoulder and I felt her tremble. When she made a escort maltepe tentative move to pull away, I resisted and she relaxed. A furtive look up her skirt showed white panties.
“Can I take your other sock off too?” I asked.
“Sure, fair and balanced,” she replied. She signed contentedly as I rolled it off and kissed that instep.
I stood and pulled her to me. At first our kissing was tentative but she rubbed her leg against mine. When we broke off I took her hand and led her to my bedroom door, opened it, and gestured her inside. I flipped the lock and turned to see her standing by my bed, looking awkward. I undid my tie and draped it and my jacket on the back of my desk chair.
“Will you take my shoes off, Cindy?” I asked. She nodded, squatted, undid the laces, and pulled both the socks and the sneakers off. I held her shoulder for balance and caressed the bra strap.
She paired the sneakers and slid them under the desk, then stood. I was nervous and she looked even more nervous. We sat on the bed.
“How did you hear about the club?”
“Ann told me about it. A grad student introduced her. When she and her boyfriend broke up early in her junior year, the experience absolutely unhinged her. She started doing wild things and nearly flunked out. The grad student saved her from who knows what.”
As she was taking I moved thigh-to-thigh with her and caught her smell. Not her “scent” because there wasn’t any. She smelled like nothing I’d ever experienced. It was pure clean, as if she had washed in an odorless bath. As she finished telling me about her sister, I saw that she was comfortable enough for me to move forward.
I reached for her head and planted a kiss on her lips, getting another dose of utter clean, this time from her hair. She lay back and we kissed fervently. I pushed my tongue into her mouth and she responded, tentatively at first, but then she got into it and we tongue-wrestled.
She willingly rolled on top of me and I felt her breasts on my chest. I ran a bare foot against hers and she wiggled her hips against mine.
I ran my hands up her legs and under her skirt. When I squeezed her ass cheeks through her panties, she ground against my hard cock. Now I wanted to have her all.
“Let’s get naked, Cindy,” I said, between breaths.
“I thought you’d never ask,” she breathily replied.
We stood and she spun her skirt around, dropped the zipper and popped the button, then pushed it and her panties down to the floor to reveal her bush. Like the hair on her head, it was raven black and her pussy lips were almost masked by its abundance. But they were clearly wet. I saw all this because, as I shed my shirt and undershirt without looking at them, I was concentrating on how she revealed her body.
“Let me uncover the rest of you,” I said.
“That’d be nice, but I want to free your cock first,” and she grabbed the zipper of my slacks. Since I wear jockeys there was no chance my cock would jump out, but she got a good feel anyway. She quickly unhooked my belt, popped the button, and effortlessly slid my slacks and jockeys down. As I stepped out of them she gave me an appraising look and licked her lips.
I fondled her breasts through her blouse, finding that they were firm and encased in a harder-than-I-expected bra. I opened each button slowly and inhaled that smell. When her cleavage was revealed I kissed the available skin and slowly moved my fingers under the back of her blouse, fumbling to open her bra.
As the clasp released, Cindy shrugged off the blouse and I drew the bra forward to completely reveal her chest. Her breasts were the largest I’d seen so far, each one a big handful, but firm. I bent to take the nipple of her left breast into my mouth and I lightly thumbed the other nipple. She murmured “ummmm” as I worked the nipples.
I wanted to see her entire body, so I pulled off her nipple with an exaggerated “pop” and took a step backward. As I framed an all-body photo of her with my hands in front of my face she instinctively covered her pussy with both hands.
“I have never seen hair so black as yours,” I said. “Later let me take a picture of you, just like this. You’re really lovely.”
Her defensive expression softened and she let her arms drop. Now she was energized and she stepped against me. She grabbed my head in her left hand to pull my mouth to hers. Her bush engrossed my cock. When we broke off the kiss we tumbled onto the bed.
“Any idea what you’d like to do?” I teased.
“Yes, I want you to fuck my brains out, except it’s a weeknight and I can’t do it more than twenty times because I have a class at five o’clock.” I gulped, then realized she was teasing right back.
“I’ll try to keep up.” I slid down and stuck my face in her pussy, smelling the same odorless clean as everywhere else. Her wetness was obvious and I began to lick.
“Oh don’t, please, I want to fuck, right now,” she called.
“You’ll get a better pendik escort fuck if you’ll let me get you started this way,” I responded.
“You’re a pussy teaser,” she purred, then pulled me up to her face by my hair. “Fuck me,now,” she commanded.
She sighed as I sank my saliva-moistened cock into her pussy. She was wet and very enthusiastic. As I started my thrusting she wrapped her legs around my ass and pulled me hard into her, quickly setting a torrid pace. At first I had to work to keep up with her but I caught on soon enough.
“Oh god, it’s now! Fuck me Carl! FUCK ME, DO IT HARD! HARD! Push it in me! More! More!” She thrashed against me and jerked her head around. Her tongue jutted out and she worked my shoulders hard with her hands as her heels pulled my buttocks into her.
Her orgasm summoned mine. ‘You’ve got me! Oh god I’m cumming! Cumming! Cumming!” and I pumped what felt like a tanker-truckload of cum into her.
We settled into each other’s arms and rolled to face each other. This post-fucking position gave me the chance to sniff her again and now the smell was of the sweat, lovely female sweat that glistened from her face and chest and belly. I sucked her lower lip into my mouth and kissed her forehead, then her lips, down, down between her breasts, and finally in circles around her belly.
“One down, nineteen to go,” I said, and patted her hip.
She kissed me. “You’re sweet. Let’s clean up and see what develops.”
She cupped her pussy to catch the cum as I led her to the bathroom. My warm washcloth took on a surprising amount of cum and needed rinsing out before it could complete cleaning us both.
Back in my room I took my camera and sat on the end of the bed.
“I want to take your picture.”
“So you can post it on your Facebook page? I don’t think so,” she said firmly, extended her open hand toward the lens.
“I would never do that! I don’t want to embarrass you. Hey, there’s a red bandana in my top dresser drawer,” I said. “Roll it up and tie it over your eyes.”
“Now you’re anonymous,” I said when she had the bandana in place. She flipped the small triangular end and smiled wickedly.
First I asked her to stand against the desk. “Cross you arms on your chest, I want you to come close to hiding your breasts, but not completely. Let the nipples show.”
“Now cup them. Oh yeah that’s sexy.”
“Put you left foot up on the chair and turn slightly to me. Show me everything. Smile!”
“Now your right foot. There, that’s good.”
“Face me, put your hands on your hips, take a wide stance. Oh yeah!”
I took three or four shots of each pose and a couple more from behind her, below, to catch the bottom of her pussy. I made sure to bracket the light every time so that the raven black of her hair would show.
“Can I take some of you?” she asked, offering the bandana, which I declined.
“You’re the one with the attributes. I’m not beefcake, Cindy.”
“I want a souvenir photo of you and your apparatus. Stand still.” And she took a dozen shots from various angles.
The lasciviousness of this session was getting to me, and my cock was starting to return to straight as the flash popped. At one point she flicked the cockhead, which caused it to spasm upward. The rapid-fire shutter sound was a turn-on.
“Okay, done. We’ll download them tomorrow and send a set to me. Now let’s put Mr. Johnson here back to work.”
We flopped on the bed and, as we kissed, I realized that the clean smell was completely gone, replaced by the more familiar scent of sex and sweat. When we broke for breath I moved behind her so that I could spoon, sliding my cock through her legs and running my finger from her throat to her navel. She pressed against me and stroked my cockhead between her legs ever so softly as I played with her breasts.
Cindy lifted her top leg and reached to guide me to the right position. I slid part way inside her and began to move.
It was awkward for us both, particularly for Cindy as she couldn’t keep her leg up for long. “Maybe we should do it on all fours,” I ventured.
“Thank you. Yes, I couldn’t keep that up,” she said, and set herself up, with her head on both pillows and her ass in the air. I reached for her clit as I slid into her and found a bump under the hood. As I slowly stroked in and out I played with the bump and it began to grow and push aside its hood.
Cindy’s murmurs of pleasure grew to moans of pleasure, which yielded to commands. “Feels so good, feels so good” became “oh yeah, that’s sooooooo good” and then “More! Faster!” The sound of my belly slapping against her ass was pulling the cum from my balls and I was fighting to hold off.
“You’re too good, Cindy! I’m gonna cum soon, real soon.”
“You’ll be in second place! Oh god, I’m — yesssssss, I’m cumming! Don’t stop! Flick that clit! Oooooh yessssssss!”
Her ass banged with a fierce insistence against my belly as I slammed and slammed against her. She swung it in every direction and I started cumming on a back stroke, I was so excited. I pushed hard to get it all inside her, then pumped and pumped again to get it done. When we collapsed it was because we were both completely drained.
“Can you stay, Cindy?”
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