Message-ID: <6371eli$9712121600@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "ass.reposter" X-Good-Line-Length: yes Subject: RP: Freshmen Week Fun (Best stories from my archive) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: somogy1@hotmail.com MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii; name="FRESMAN.TXT" Content-Disposition: inline; filename="FRESMAN.TXT" Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <349149D8.6EC0@hotmail.com> >From ryanedw@ix.netcom.com Sat Mar 22 12:10:11 1997 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Freshman Week Fun 1+2+3/10 From: ryanedw@ix.netcom.com (Ryan Edwards) Date: Sat, 22 Mar 1997 10:10:11 -0700 -------- DISCLAIMER: Claim what you want, but this is complete fiction. Nobody is what they seem. The guy? That's only what you THINK. So none of the characters are based on reality. Except maybe Binkie the Mailman. If you're under 18, you might want to ask your mom whether or not you should read this. _____ "Freshman Week Fun" by Rameses and Death [special guest: Sick Little Monkey] no copyright 1997, so duplicate this mutha! Chapter 1 It was a hot day outside, but the air at least was crisp and dry. Moving into the dorms today would be a job, but at least it wasn't too humid. Sarah hated the way the sweat clung to her on days like that, soaking through her clothes and making her jeans feel like they were made out of lead. Today, as she glanced at the cloudless blue sky and squinted, would be a good day, she thought. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and picked up the box she had rested, teetering on the stone in front of the dorm. "Have you got it?" cried Hank, rounding the corner of the building just behind her. Hank was the only friend of hers from her highschool who also been accepted to the same university, but Sarah was glad enough to at least have him around. "Yeah, but could you get the door for me?" she replied, nodding her head in the direction of the entryway door just beyond her. Her dark brown hair cascaded down her forehead and flew right into her face. "Pfew!" Sarah spat air, trying to blow her long hair back away from her eyes. She knew she should have put it up before grabbing the first box. "Got it," said Hank. He balanced the box he had on one knee, then opened the door quickly and propped it open with his body. Once they had all of Sarah's stuff inside, they could drive across campus and get his things put away too. The sun felt good on his face, and Hank felt a small butterfly in his stomach. Moving in was a half-traumatic, half-invigorating experience! As soon as he got his parents out of town (after hitting them up for lunch, hopefully!), life would really start taking off! He had already seen about ten girls he wouldn't mind getting to know better, and this was just the first day. A little shiver of anticipation ran down his spine. He was about 6 feet tall with dark blonde hair and reasonably well-built. He had dated a little bit in highschool; in fact, he and Sarah had been an item for a couple months back in junior year. But college was definitely . . . an opportunity. Hank came out of his daydream when Sarah brushed by. Sarah passed him and entered the building, turning around to go up the stairs to the second floor. Being 5'8", she didn't have any problem with all the boxes that she and her parents had packed the previous week, but she was still glad to have both them and Hank, not to mention Hank's parents, helping out. Moving away from home was a little hard, but at least Hank was around, and she could always get her folks to come pick her up for a weekend if she ever got really desperate. Besides, her best friend Carrie was going to be going to school about two hours away, and the phone bill wouldn't be too bad even if they talked all the time. And then there were all the people she was going to meet here, too. At the top of the stair Sarah turned and walked down the hallway, stopping at the third door on the right. She laid the box to rest on the floor next to the door and fished out her key from her pocket. Hank's dad entered the hallway, immediately followed by her own parents. Apparently Hank was still holding the door. Sarah smiled knowingly. That was one thing Hank was always pretty good at, especially when they had been dating: the little common courtesies. She slid the key into the lock and twisted to the right, pushed, and stuck her heel at the base of the door to keep it ajar. "Oh, hi!" came a voice from the room in a loud, friendly greeting. It must be either Sandy or Alison, thought Sarah. "Hi! You must be Sarah," said the girl, propping the door open herself and beaming in a wide, toothy smile. "I'm Alison. Sandy's out getting her photo ID. Do you need some help?" "Hey Alison," said Sarah, smiling. "Thanks, but I've already got five other helpers! If you could just get the door, we'll be done in a hurry." As she entered the room, Sarah's parents and the Millses followed, greeting Alison as they came, laded with Sarah's luggage and boxes. Hank was the last one in. A drop of sweat had beaded up on the tip of his nose, and Hank blew it off with a quick breath from his mouth. "Hi, I'm Hank, Sarah's friend," he said, grinning at Alison. "Alison. Pleased to meet you," she replied, focusing on his face. He was definitely handsome, she thought, although not as huge as the football player who had helped her with her things yesterday. She liked that, actually. The room was well-lit by the sun streaming in through the windows, but it showed just how dusty the place was. There were two rooms off the main room, one on either side and each with its own door. "Sandy and I put our stuff in the room on the left," said Alison. "So the other one's all yours." "Thanks," said Sarah. She was the first one to enter her room, and she almost ran into the opposite wall once inside. It was definitely a cozy arrangement! At least there was another window on the left, but only one. She plopped the box down on the stained mattress in one corner of the small room and quickly extricated herself so that the others could place their things inside. "You can just pile stuff in the common room, if you guys want," called Alison. "That's what we did." "Good idea," said Hank. He dumped his box and made for the door again, smiling again as he passed Alison. She certainly wasn't too bad, he thought. About 5'5" or so and pretty cute with those pale blue eyes and reddish hair. Alison winked at him as he passed . . . or did she? Out in the hall, Hank frowned as he skipped down the stairs. "Did I just imagine that?" he muttered to himself. "Well it's not much, I suppose," said Sarah's mom, glancing around the single room with a squint. "But at least you're in good company, right?" She smiled at Alison and walked toward the door. "Darn straight," said Alison. "We'll take good care of her, ma'am." "I'm sure you'll all have a wonderful time here," replied Mrs. Kittredge as she entered the hallway. Her husband followed her out. "I hope Hank's room is as nice as yours is," offered Mr. Mills as he followed the Kittredges. "Oh, is he moving in too?" asked Alison. "Yeah," said Sarah. "I think he said he's living in Forester, across campus." "Wow, that's handy!" said Alison, in surprise. She turned to the Millses. "He'll be welcome here anytime, in case he winds up in a real dump," she said, laughing. "You know, Sarah, Sandy and I were thinking we'd like to go grab a couch and maybe some other furniture for the room sometime. They're selling stuff along the main drag through campus." "We brought along a futon already, but it's not really big when it's folded up. That's probably a good idea," replied Sarah. "We should really get a nice, thick carpet or something." Sarah fished a scrunchie out of her back pocket and bent over to gather her hair up. They were alone in the room; the others had left to gether more of Sarah's things. "Nice boyfriend," said Alison with awed inflection. "And he's going to school here too? Geez! What'd you do in a past life? My boyfriend went to college out on the West coast a year ago, and things didn't exactly work out." "He's NOT my boyfriend," replied Sarah placidly, smoothing her hair back away from her forehead. "Hank and I are just good friends. He and I went to highschool together, and he's a really great guy. We dated a little while a few years ago." She scratched underneath a bra strap. "Oh," said Alison. "Great day today, huh? I love this kind of weather. Hot, but not sticky hot." "Yeah, you're lucky. Yesterday was pretty steamy. At least I had my bathing suit with me. I had to wear it while moving in, I was sweating so much. I hear it might get hot like that again soon, though." Alison moved to the windows and watched Hank walk toward the entryway door below with an armful of boxes. "Well, I've got my suit too," said Sarah. "I guess we'll be ready for it, right?" She walked toward the door. "Yeah," answered Alison, thinking of other things. **** Chapter 2 **** Hank juggled a small box in his left arm while trying to rub his eyes with his right hand. He took the time to examine the spotless night sky above him. After a full day of moving, both his stuff and Sarah's, he was pretty tired. He stifled a chuckle when he recalled how his mother had offered to drive him back home "for just one more night's sleep in his own bed" (like he would never get back home again). His parents were still adjusting to an empty nest, because without Hank or his older brother, their house would seem pretty empty. Hank quickly pushed the nostalgia out of his head and reoriented himself to the campus lay-out. He was looking for Sarah's dorm. Somehow, one of Sarah's boxes had gotten in with his stuff, and he was concerned that Sarah would be needing its contents sooner rather than later (the box was marked "clothing" but he guessed it was probably small stuff like lingerie). He stifled a slight blush that came with the realization he could be holding his ex-girlfriend's underwear. Sarah's room was closed up, and as he entered the hall he worried no one might be there and he'd have to make this trip again tomorrow. As he approached, however, the muffled but unmistakable sound of a CD emanated from behind her room's closed door. He knocked loudly, and he was pleased when Sarah's roommate Alison answered. Hank wasn't 100% sure, but he could have sworn this girl had winked at him earlier. She had also changed her clothes from earlier that day. Now, Alison was wearing hot-pant length cut off jeans and a flimsy white T-shirt with the word "Girl" in black letters across the front. He guessed it was a concert T from a band he'd never heard of before. "Hey, you're Sarah's friend Hank, right? Long time no see!" she joked opening the door wide for him to enter. "Yeah, hi, ummm this is Sarah's; it got in with my boxes by mistake and I thought she'd want it," he said apologetically. "Hold on a sec." Alison went over and muted the stereo. "Okay, well, Sarah's not here. She went off with Sandy to that freshman mixer. I thought it'd be lame, so I decided to stay." Hank shifted awkwardly with the box cradled in both hands now. He had lowered it so the box covered the growing swelling in his jeans. Alison's reddish hair and her nicely proportioned frame were quite a turn-on. "I'll just, ummm, put it into her single, okay?" Hank offered. Alison waved him into the room with a big grin. Hank placed the box into the corner and noticed Sarah had already put up a few pictures. He was somewhat surprised to see a picture from their junior prom, when they had still been an item. He was pulled out of his contemplation by a hand on his shoulder. "Hey," Alison asked, "is that you and Sarah in high school?" Alison was looking over his right shoulder, her breath gently beating against his back. "Yeah," Hank said softly and without elaboration. Alison moved a bit closer to Hank's back. "You two were cute together, what happened?" "Oh, it just didn't work out. You know, the old 'friends dating friends' thing." "That's a shame. You dating anyone now?" Hank thought he was picking up some flirtatious vibes, but when he turned around, his eyes nearly fell out of his head. Alison had removed the "Girl" shirt and was now clad in just a blue bikini and her jean cut-offs were partially unzipped revealing a matching blue bottom. "Uh, no. I was hoping I'd meet someone here at school--" She moved a paper-width away from his chest and mewed "Well, you've met someone now." Hank had to lean down a bit to make up the 5 inch height differential, but he was rewarded for the slight effort with a deep, wet kiss. Her tongue darted into and out of his mouth, and her hand began to rub the front of his jeans. Her search ended when she shaped his bulging tool. As they continued to lock lips, Alison guided him back to Sarah's bed. He obeyed and lay back on his ex-girlfriend's half-made bed. Alison leaned in on top of him; her hands had now thoroughly worked his cock into a frenzy through his jeans. She undid the catch at the top of his jeans and slid his zipper toward his socks. His bulging baton tent-poled his plaid boxer until she mercifully unleashed it into the air of the room. Her hands now circled his cock circumference and pumped like a piston. Hank was out of his mind. His hands reached around her back and untied her bikini top. It fell light onto his chest. Hank moved his hands so they were between him and Alison and stole a glance at her breasts. They hung low, with hard little pink nipples. He groped her tit spheres with mounting excitement as she slid her hands over his erect shaft. "Ummmmm. Ugggg." Alison gurgled. She was responding to a squeeze of her sensitive red nubs. Hank could tell he was being driven by an expert. She worked his glans between her thumb and forefinger and spread his pre-cum along the shaft for lubrication. Just as he felt his balls tingle signaling an imminent release, she released his johnson and sat back on the bed. Alison finished the removal of her threadbare jean shorts, and then tossed off her blue bikini bottom. Hank quickly pulled off his shirt, boxers and jeans, just to make things equal. Their bodies meshed back together. Hank reached down and began to finger Alison's moist tunnel. She rewarded him with a good long squeeze of his penis. He began to pump his index finger into well-lubricated her love basket, while his thumb sawed her engorged clittie. Her moans of pleasure told him he was hitting all the right spots. With startling ferociousness, Alison shifted her weight and sank her face into Hank's crotch. He had to strain a bit to keep up with her movements, but he nearly lost consciousness when her mouth hit his cock. She concentrated her first kisses onto the very tip, pushing her tongue tip into his penile slit and rimming the whole glans with admirable precision. Hank nearly blew his load right then and there, for he had never received a blow like this. In fact, he had only received a blow once before, from Laurie after the senior prom, but she hadn't been into it and ended up just jacking him off in the back seat of his Taurus. Alison, however, was *really* into it. She worked her way down the shaft, licking the sensitive skin along the underside of his shaft and occasionally teasingthe tingling flesh with her front teeth. Hank reciprocated as best he could by adding his middle finger to his index finger's invasion of her steaming hot vaginal slit. His finger pumping matched her frenetic licking until they both were about to let loose. Hank was the first to succumb. His tool jumped and spat its juices into her throat. Alison swallowed like a trooper and even managed to suction a little more of his seed out of his dwindling stalk. His fingers continued their assault on her fuck tunnel. She released her mouth from his cock and moaned. He jammed a third finger into her slit, and she went off like a firecracker. "Uggg, ugg, ohhhhh, uggg, ohhhh, UHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" The force of her orgasm drove her into Hank's chest. He gently stroked her hair, still basking in the rush of feeling from the incredible blow job she had just administered to his penis. She moved over to his side and kissed him on the cheek. "Sarah doesn't know what she's missing, " Alison cooed into his ear. **** Chapter 3 Hank lay staring at his ex-girlfriend's ceiling. Alison had recovered first, and was now striding confidently out of the room, going to take a shower. (The girls were lucky enough to have a bathroom in their room.) Her eyes were half-closed, and she had a serene, sly smile on her face; as Hank's eyes followed her to the door, the swaying in her creamy white buttocks, firm yet feminine, and the gentle, playful jiggling of her perky, freckled breasts brought back the tingling in his exhausted pipe. But he continued to lay there, wanting to savor the feeling and think things through. Without getting up, he glanced around the room. Sarah's room was decorated with posters of Picasso and Dali prints, a picture of some TV hunk (a silly leftover from high school crushes, he though to himself with a wry smile), and the picture of them from the prom. This time he noticed a smaller picture stuck into the frame of the prom picture, which he hadn't noticed before. It was a picture of Chloe, Sarah's beguiling best friend from high school. Hank wondered to himself where Chloe was now; she had left half-way through senior year under mysterious circumstances. Hank recalled with another smile how the rumors had developed around her departure: she did drugs; she was caught with the vice-principal on top and his son, the captain of the football team, underneath; she was caught giving an inappropriate education to a sixth-grade girl in the girl's room. Ridiculous. But what if some of them had been true? he mused. All he really remembered about Chloe was that she and Sarah had been close. Real close - inseparable; it seemed to Hank as if they could comminucate with a glance. He often remembered the two of them disappearing together at parties, leaving him alone; to talk about him, he had assumed at the time. Now he wondered about the true nature of Sarah and Chloe's relationship. Sarah said she and Chloe had always enjoyed walking home together through out grade school, and sleeping over at each other's houses when they were younger. Sarah had never been quite as happy since Chloe had left. And Sarah had often commented about Chloe's beauty, and teased Hank that, if Chloe were a man, that Sarah would dump Hank for her. And she had been beautiful - Hank recalled how her T-shirts would barely fit around her spherical breasts, with the dark nipples threatening to burst through the material. He admittled to himself that, even while going out with Sarah, he had many times fantasized running his tongue up and down her tawny, flawless skin, licking her from head to foot like a postage stamp, and when she was properly moistened, fastening her envelope closed around his love letter. He looked down and realized that he was starting to stiffen up again, a single drop of seed left over from his previous encounter starting to appear at the tip. He started to get up off the bed to find a Kleenex, when he froze at the sound of the door. Sarah was coming in the door, sighing with exhaustion but humming softly to herself. The sound of the shower would have drowned out the slight creaking of the floorboards had he dared to move; but he sat there terrified. Would she walk into her own room to find her ex-boyfriend standing in front of her bed, naked, semi-aroused, staring at a picture of her ex-best friend and dripping spooge onto her throw rug? He stood there in terror for a few minutes, not relaxing until he heard to step into the bathroom. He slowly walked to the door of her room and peeked around the corner. There were three sweaty T-shirts on the floor - Alison's, Sarah's, and a third. The third belonged to a tall black woman, probably Sandy, who had draped herself across the couch. She was not wearing a bra; droplets of sweat gleamed on her small but firm breasts and on her little cone-shaped nipples, and on her incredibly long, slim ebony torso and legs. Just then Sarah came out of the bathroom. She was not only topless but had stripped down to her panties. Hank had not heard her and Alison exchanging friendly banter in the bathroom; perhaps Sarah had slipped in and out unnoticed. Now Sarah sidled sexily up to Sandy, coming to rest on the couch next to Sandy's head. Her left hand gently stroked Sandy's forehead. "C'mon, let's get to my room and close the door before my roommate comes out of the shower," she whispered seductively. "Mmm, I don't know if I can wait that long, baby," cooed Sandy. She ran her long fingers up Sarah's thigh to her crotch and slipped her hand under Sarah's panties. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut and gasped. "But we only just met," she murmured between breaths. "But it's been so long since I-" her last words were cut off by another gasp; with the agility of a veteran, Sandy had flipped on her stomach, wrapped one of Sarah's legs around the other side of her head. Sandy's head was bobbing up and down, and she was making slurping, gutteral noises. Sarah's eyes were still squeezed shut, and she was whimpering rhythmically. Hank remembered that whimper well, and also remembered the way that Sarah would start to fondle herself when she was really excited, like she was doing now: cupping her own breasts and stroking forward to pinch her own nipples, faster and faster, stopping now and then to reach down to her crotch, lubricating her hands with a mixture of Sandy's saliva and her own now freely flowing pussy juice. Hank remembered that Sarah could get very wet, but had never realized just how soaked she could get, judging by the state of the throw pillow that fell out from under her ass. Hank was getting very absorbed in the coracious feasting of Sandy, her dark, firm ass bobbing in front of his vision. Suddenly he was overcome by the desire to climb on top of her and ride her like a big black greyhound bitch. In fact he was so absorbed, he didn't realize he was standing in the doorway until Alison came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. "Sarah!" exclaimed Alison. "Alison?!" shouted Sarah. Her eyes popped open. "HANK?!" "Mmph?" said Sandy, intent on her work. "Sarah!" Hank stammered. "Hank!" gasped Alison. "Alison. . ." Hank continued to stammer. "Sandy?" Alison asked, peering over the edge of the couch. "Mmph!" said Sandy. **** >From ryanedw@ix.netcom.com Sat Mar 22 12:12:37 1997 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Freshman Week Fun 4/10 From: ryanedw@ix.netcom.com (Ryan Edwards) Date: Sat, 22 Mar 1997 10:12:37 -0700 -------- DISCLAIMER: Claim what you want, but this is complete fiction. Nobody is what they seem. The guy? That's only what you THINK. So none of the characters are based on reality. Except maybe Binkie the Mailman. If you're under 18, you might want to ask your mom whether or not you should read this. _____ "Freshman Week Fun" by Rameses and Death [special guest: Sick Little Monkey] no copyright 1997, so duplicate this mutha! Chapter Four "Ohhhhhhh, FUCK!!" cried Sarah, looking first at Hank, then at Alison, then quickly at Hank again, then even more quickly at Sandy. Scrambling wildly, she slid out from underneath her lesbian lick-sister like a teenager about to shoot off without a rubber. "Fuck fuck fuck!!!" She was naked as a jaybird; her panties were somewhere in a corner of the room now, and she felt guiltily exposed to the entire world. Her fucking ex-boyfriend was naked, she was naked, Sandy was naked, everybody was just fucking naked, and it was all so fucking wrong! Her head was still spinning from that sour crap that Sandy had made her drink out of her canteen at the freshman mixer. "Sarah, wait!" called Alison, still standing in the bathroom doorway. She held a toothbrush clamped between the thumb and forefinger of her waving hand, and the toothpaste coated the sides of her mouth and made her voice funny and garbled. She dropped the toothbrush suddenly when the bathtowel she was wearing promptly fell off. Her breasts fell out and bobbed noticeably as she quickly stooped to catch the towel around herself again. The incredible blush, having started on her nose and slightly freckled cheeks, spread like wildfire to the tops of those incredible boobs, Hank noticed. His dick got even harder when she covered up again. Suddenly he remembered where he was and clumsily tried to obscure his rager with both hands. Sarah was at the hallway door in a flash, having snatched her raincoat off the floor near the couch and flung it over her body. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and her eyes turned almost as red as Alison's blush. What the hell was all this? She was getting a blow from HER ROOMMATE, and her fucking ex-boyfriend was naked IN HER ROOM for no apparent reason besides fucking her OTHER roommate! "God, what the hell am I doing?!" she groaned, to no one but herself. She could have been referring to her hasty egress as well as to the recent escapades; she poked both arms though the coat, tits bouncing against her upper arms and juices streaming down her legs faster than the tears coated her cheeks, pushed open the door, and was gone down the hall. All three of them heard the entryway door being shoved open and the hurried but muffled footfalls (she hadn't bothered to grab any shoes) leading off into the night. "Oh, shit!" said Alison, a worried frown clouding her countenance. She looked at Hank, who had this incredibly sheepish look on his face, which sort of detracted from the total package. She felt a pulling sensation inside her again, looking at his shoulders, his legs, his hips, and his cupped hands and the halo of pubic hair around them. But the face he had on definitely cooled her off. He knew. And he didn't feel too great about it either right now. Alison looked back at Sandy, who had sat up on the sofa and held the knuckles of her right hand to her forehead, resting her elbow on the arm of the couch. She was still brazenly naked, and although she had plainly wiped Sarah's juices off her mouth, there was a faint sheen of sweat across her breasts and neck, and her breathing was irregular. She looked up and wrinkled her brow at Alison, who tied the towel more tightly around her body. "Shit is right, sister," said Sandy. A stupid, shit-eating grin came across her face and she laughed lightly. "Aw, shit," she muttered, smiling. Snapping out of it, Hank grabbed his plaid boxers off the floor in Sarah's room and whipped them on, almost falling over when his heel caught on the crotch. He almost thought he heard threads tearing. He had to grab his dick and try to squeeze the blood out of it a little before burying it in the shorts; he had been so rock-hard that it would have flopped right out for all to see, otherwise. He darted back into the main room. "I'll go get her," he said, looking at Alison intently. He felt this incredible pang of guilt, this post-orgasmic "you-did-it-and-you-weren't-supposed-to" pang of guilt, which overwhelmed at least temporarily his arousal. "No," replied Alison, walking quickly toward him. She passed him and retreated into Sarah's room. "I'd better do it. God only knows what she'd do to you. God only knows what she thinks of you right now." Alison picked up a few articles of her own clothing off the floor and hastily threw them on Sarah's bed. The towel came off, and she bent over to grab her jeans. Hank stole a look at her firm, ripe ass and the sides of her breasts, which were the only parts showing. He looked away, back into the main room, and Sandy rose from the couch and looked toward him. "Look, don't worry about it. It's probably my fault anyway," said Sandy, a wry smile on her face. She wrinkled her brow and smoothed back her hair, completely oblivious, apparently, to the fact that she was completely nude. As her arms moved up and back, Hank saw her breasts, 34-B's definitely, slowly stretch from slightly sagging, to round, then pulled up at the sides, and then sort of squared off in front of the armpits as both arms leaned into a stretch behind her. Sandy shut her eyes and crunched her eyebrows, and then she quickly opened her eyes widely and looked straight at Hank. The effect was mesmerizing. Her dark brown nipples, hard and erect in the coolness of the main room, were unlike any Hank had ever seen before, and it wasn't just the color. She kept her gorgeous eyes fixated on him as she bent and picked up her shirt. Her breasts almost stayed completely still, they were so firm and tight. In a simple, graceful move, Sandy slipped the T-shirt over her head and pulled it down just past her cunt. "Yeah, what's up with that?" asked Alison, returning from Sarah's bedroom with the "Girl" shirt scrunched up in both hands over her head. Hank caught one last glimpse of her bouncing breasts as she moved quickly into the room again before "Girl" covered them up defiantly once again. Her blush had faded, and now her eyes were tightened slightly in slits as she looked at Sandy, as if trying to comprehend. "Look, I just gave her a little booze at the mixer, we started dancing in a big group, and she kissed me," said Sandy, closing her eyes tightly while she said the words. When she opened them again, they were staring straight at Alison. "It's weird, but she got all kooked-up on me, and she just leaned in and planted a pretty good one right on my lips." Alison looked at Hank. "Heck, it's been a while since we went out," he offered, shrugging. "Anything can happen in time. She never told me about anything . . . like that." He shot a glance back toward Sandy and grinned quickly, stupidly. "Hurm." Suddenly he felt really, really dumb. "Well, whichever one it is --- pissed at you, pissed at me and him," sighed Alison, "I guess I'll find out soon enough." She grabbed a torn jean jacket off a chair just inside her own bedroom and walked toward the hallway. "Just tell the cops it's me if they find somebody at the bottom of the lake with her eyes clawed out." With a crooked smile toward Hank first and then Sandy, she left. "Be good, Henry!" she cried from the stairwell, just before the door to the hallway swung shut. Her voice carried with it a note of distinct sarcasm, and Hank wondered how to take it, suddenly completely befuddled at the whole situation. He left his position at the entrance to Sarah's bedroom and slumped into the couch, deep in thought. He wrinkled his nose and ran a hand through his hair, staring out the window into the night. In front of him, Sandy gracefully fished her pants off the floor and slipped them on, buckling only the bottom of two belts on her slacks and leaving the fly open. "So who the hell are you, besides 'Henry'?" sniped Sandy in a tone that seemed to him to be neither playful nor fully sarcastic. She brushed her hair back with both hands again in the same manner as before, except this time Hank wasn't watching. Just before she finished the motion he suddenly remembered the image of her bountiful tits stretching and moving, and he looked at her quickly with a sad, pleading, hopeful feeling. Suddenly he felt isolated and alone and decidedly horny in a self-pitying sort of way. He caught just the tail part of her motion, but he could still see the outline of her right breast pushed tightly against the slightly damp T-shirt, he could still see the outline of one divinely engorged nipple. "Yo. Romeo. Is there anything I should know about you, I said." Sandy looked at him intently, bending over and holding her knees in front of him. "Sarah know you, or something? You dated?" "Yeah. Shit," replied Hank. He stared at his kneecaps and sank back further into the couch. "We were pretty hot and heavy for-" A moment of silence intervened. "We . . ." He frowned. "Well, we went out for a while. I guess neither one of us really knew what we were doing. We kinda fooled around a little bit, and we kinda fucked things up pretty good, I guess." "Did you get her drunk and did she kiss you and then- . . ?" Sandy was grinning again. Her teeth were perfect. Hank felt the backs of his own teeth with his tongue almost involuntarily, just after seeing hers. They looked so smooth. Sandy pushed the hair out of her eyes again, but this time only with one hand and while bending over. Her breasts hung against the shirt, but Hank couldn't see down the neck. Her hair, done in an assortment of narrow braids, clicked together at the ends where little yellow clasps kept the thin braids from falling out. The sound was soothing somehow. "I think we were both each other's firsts," replied Hank. "But no, I don't think I got her drunk that time." He smiled. "That came later, when I was debating whether or not to try and get her back. I don't think she holds alcohol too well. She just got really silly after a while." "So she was in love with you?" Sandy straightened herself out and sat down at the other end of the couch, reclining against the arm and looking right at him. "I dunno. Maybe." Hank scratched himself through his boxers. He had sank deep enough into the sofa that his bare skin didn't feel too cold in the now-chilly room. "You said it was her first time," said Sandy in a low voice. "Doesn't everyone love the first one?" "I guess," replied Hank. He was starting to feel a little more relaxed now. Out of the back of his active memory he pulled out a few fleeting glimpses of naked Sarah, lounging on top of a letter jacket in that back seat of the Taurus. Damn, that was a good car. And Sarah was great fun, even if it was difficult and weird the first time. He remembered the look on her face. It was like utter exhaustion combined with flaming intensity. He remembered the depth of her breathing, how she filled her lungs and emptied them like they were only good for a little while longer and she wanted to get her money's worth out of them. Hank remembered her flattened breasts, his fingers sliding over the chilled flesh as he knelt on the floorboard and planted slow kisses all over her face and neck and chest. "Didn't YOU love your first one?" Sandy slid nearer to him. "Yes," said Hank in a whisper after a long pause. Sarah was moaning underneath him, pulling his face closer to kiss his lips. "Remember how it felt?" Her right hand was on his knee. Suddenly the spell was broken and Hank turned his head suddenly toward Sandy. "Yeah," he said. "I remember all of it." He gazed quizzically at her; his peter had started a slight climb with the memories, but he was feeling very ill-at-ease. There was something about Sandy that really put him on edge. "Memories are the best things, you know," whispered Sandy. "You have them forever. That's why you have to make them GOOD memories. And that's why you have to really have to WORK to make them good memories." She glanced all around his face, her eyes darted from his eyes to his mouth, and then to his hair, and then back to his eyes, shifting between them rapidly. Suddenly Hank felt his stomach turn inside out, and the blood rushed out of his thighs. He could feel his penis swell uncontrollably, and it poked the front of his boxers. With one quick motion he shoved it back down between his legs before it burst out through the whiz-hole. He should have put on his jeans. "Baby," sighed Sandy, furrowing her brow teasingly, "have you got yourself all hot and bothered?" She smiled warmly and looked down at his crotch, then back up at his face. "Don't make fun," grumbled Hank, crossing his arms in front of him and turning away. His dick wanted to jump out and proclaim its ardent lust for Sandy and her tight boobs, beautiful teeth, and enchanting eyes, but he knew she was just playing around with him. "Hey now," cried Sandy, giving his leg a little shove and withdrawing her hand. "What, do you think I'm a lesbian? You think I don't like guys?" Hank paused, his mouth open. She didn't let him interject. "Look," she scolded, rising. "Just 'cause I like girls too doesn't mean I don't like dicks, asshole!" She glared at him reprovingly, then straightened her back and looked down at him with a closed-lip smile. "I think you need convincing." Things began to move in the same kind of slow-motion that occurs whenever adrenaline rushes to your brain before an argument or a fight, or in the midst of a nasty accident that you see happening just before you can't possibly stop it. Hank's brow began to tremble as he looked up toward Sandy. She pulled her hair back from her head just as she had done twice before, and his eyes fell to her chest. Minutes passed, it seemed. Her breasts rose and stretched through the fabric, and Hank looked back at her face, which maintained the closed-lip smile, but he saw a sparkle in her eyes. She held her arms above her head for an infinity and took a deep breath, letting it sigh out of her lungs. She pursed her lips, and their fullness, already shocking, was enhanced even more. He wanted to kiss those lips so badly, wanted to feel them kissing him, lingering over his face, his neck, his chest, his belly, his penis. "Take it off. I want to see how much you want this," said Sandy, still stretching her arms back behind her head, as she glanced toward his crotch and then back up to his face. She shook her head and her hair clacked together entrancingly. Hank swallowed incredibly hard and grabbed his shorts, working them quickly off his hips and down to the ground. His mouth dry, he looked down at his groin and saw his dick beating slowly to the rhythym of his heart, rising quickly into the air. He looked back at her and felt like he had lost his power of speech, the muscles in his face still quivering in heightened arousal. He hadn't even felt this turned on with Alison! Sandy winked at him, smiled a wide, toothy smile, and pulled the T-shirt up and over her head. As the fabric left her body, it clung to her breasts and pulled them quickly up, and they snapped back into place like rubber chew-toys and jiggled slightly. Hank felt saliva reenter his mouth and control return to his face, and he breathed deeply and let it out in pants. Somehow having seen them confined beneath the shirt, Hank appreciated her breasts a great deal more now, as Sandy grinned and stretched her arms for him again. They were perfectly shaped for her body, not too big or too small, and the graceful lines describing the slopes of the undersides of her breasts back to her armpits were exquisitely formed. While stretching, she suddenly leaned forward and almost hit him right in the face with her chest, bringing her arms back around and taking his head in boths hands. She growled in his left ear and bit it almost too hard, and he sat up away from the back of the couch, pushing her up with him. Her knees came around on either side of his hips, and his hands encircled her body and rubbed the flesh on her back. His fingers fanned out and stroked her warm, supple skin, feeling the ridges of her spine and following the upside-down ledges of her shoulder blades down and around to the spaces just behind and to the side of her tits. Her tongue splashed all over his ear, and her hot breath lit him up. Hank slid his hands, thumbs first, to her chest and enclosed both breasts in his fingers. His thumbs and second fingers squeezed and pinched her nipples, floating over the tight, hard flesh and then retreating to the skin around the areolae. Her pants-covered crotch rubbed back and forth against his dick, which had by now filled up completely and stood at attention. She crushed and mashed his lusty tool, first pushing it back against his belly, then forward and down to his thighs. Sandy's lips found his, and she bit his lower lip and pulled it slightly away from his jaw. Hank's hand left her boobs and slid down to her butt, where he felt the pocket ridges and seams catch at his fingernails. He slammed her ass harder onto his crotch with each rocking motion she made, intensifying the brutal treatment his willing member was receiving. It was getting beat up, and he fucking loved it. Sandy slipped down to his neck and sucked and bit until Hank felt the blood rush in hot, itching torrents to the spot where she labored. Her hot breath smoked over his skin, and he felt delirious with lust. Sandy slipped her knees back and down to the floor, and she grabbed his penis in both hands, stroking it between her palms. Hank groaned and Sandy bent forward, slipping his dick between her breasts and pressing it into her modest cleavage, angled up so that the sensitive underside was rubbing against her skin the most. She paused and held his peter motionless, staring at him with her mouth slightly open and her breathing deep but regular. "Ahh," cried Hank, shivering in delight and at the sudden coolness he was experiencing in her absence. He felt his penis throb, and a small stream of spunk pushed out the end and ran down. "Got a condom?" asked Sandy. She began to rub his dick with one hand while keeping it flat against her chest with the other. He looked down at her and swore that her breasts had swollen by a little amount; when she rubbed him, they swayed back and forth as if they were heavier, filled with blood. He was mesmerized by their motion and had to concentrate when he suddenly felt an internal pulling in his dick. With relief, he headed off the ejaculation and sighed. Suddenly he remembered the question. "Fuck!" he said, blowing air in exasperation. "I don't carry one with me." He felt the blood stagnate and begin slowly to leave his penis. "Damn it. Of course YOU'RE not on the pill." "Nope," she replied. She looked down and felt the rigidity of his shaft lessen slightly; it bent further back as she hugged it to her chest. "Hey hey hey, baby," she sang, pulling her eyebrows up and together. "Don't you go anywhere on me. I thought for sure Ali'd have given you an extra." "Huh?" "She's got some fucking condoms, Hank! Didn't you use one before?" "Oh." Suddenly his mind was racing. "Wait, she TOLD me she was on the pill!" "Maybe. I don't know anything about it." Sandy let Hank's penis fall and got up, breasts swaying ever so slightly. "All's I know is that she had a whole box of 'em right in her closet, and she told me about 'em, in case I ever needed one or something. I kinda thought she was bragging. I guess not." Hank heard her rummaging through Alison's closet. His dick, while still thick, had dwindled in size a little. His thought made it shrink up even more. "What the hell am I doing?" he muttered to himself. "Christ." He stood up and stared at the floor in front of Sarah's room, standing in front of the couch. "God, this is ridiculous." Returning from the room with a foil square in one hand, Sandy saw the look on his face. She decided to ignore it, instead circling around behind him and insinuating both arms under his. She traced circles on his chest with one edge of the condom and slowly rubbed her breasts against his back. "I got one. We're OK," she mewed in his ear. Shaking her head back, her locks clacked together again. Hank was filled with conflicting thoughts. He had suddenly felt so base, so completely filthy. What if Alison really WASN'T on the fucking pill, anyway? Jesus, he just fucked her. Just fucked her. And then Sarah walked in, and then it all went straight to hell. And now, Sandy. And- "What do I have to do, beg?" whispered Sandy, sensing some indecision. Hank felt the points of her nipples pressing into his back. He felt the exact spots of the contact, and she began to run her fingernails up and down his chest, down all the way to his crotch and back up again. He closed his eyes and tried to control his thoughts. His hands slowly met hers and covered them on their circulating paths around his body. Her right hand stole down to his balls and cupped them, and the tingling spread from his groin all the way up his spine and burst into his head, eliciting a shiver. Sandy's left hand joined her right and curled around his expanding penis, slowly jacking up and down on the hot rod. The condom must have gone into a pants pocket or something. Hank's hands left the backs of hers and traveled back behind his head, where he grasped hers and bent around to find her lips. He opened his mouth and met hers in an engaging kiss that soon evolved into some major frenching. Sandy smacked her lips against his and continued to pull on his dick until he completely lost control and spun around in place, grabbing both breasts and savagely fondling them. She groaned loudly but was almost completely muffled by his mouth. Her hands ran up and down her back as he continued stroking her breasts and palming the nipples, pushing her tits apart, then together, then both up. When he lowered his head to her chest and tried to suck in her left nipple, she pushed him away and backed toward the couch. She stood smirking, biting her lower lip. She ran her hands through her hair AGAIN, and Hank almost passed out. His dick swelled even higher as he watched her breasts get pulled up and then out again. "Get in that fucking bedroom, asshole," growled Sandy in mid-stroke, her arms still extended above her head. Hank's knees were about to buckle beneath him, so he slowly turned around and looked into the dark bedroom that was Sandy's and Alison's. He started to shuffle inside, looking over his shoulder at Sandy, who kept her arms raised while following him, and then dropped them quickly. Hank stepped through and into the darkness, and Sandy switched on the light and quickly closed the bedroom door. "Get on the bed," she commanded, pointing to the bed just to the left of the door. The other one must be Alison's. Hank lied down obediently, his raging hard-on pointing straight up into the air. Sandy slipped the condom packet out of her back pocket, threw it on his chest, and then fumbled with the fastened belt buckle on her pants. Hank picked up the foil and looked at it, almost completely missing the show in front of him. Sandy had undone her pants, and she pulled them off her hips and let them slump to the floor. Naked, she was breathtaking in the clear light of the bedroom, and he gasped, but she didn't let him have a good look. The vision of her smooth, brown body with its beautiful curves, dark hair on her mound, and hair in braids reaching past her shoulders imprinted itself in his brain. He swallowed hard again. She quickly kneeled over him, grabbed his dick and held it right in front of her cunt, which was already dribbling juices down one thigh. "Gimme that thing," she said, nodding at the foil wrapper. Hank fumbled with the package and finally tore it open, handing the rolled-up rubber to her. She jacked him quickly, running her fingers up and down his tube, and her breasts heaved. When she placed the roll on the head of his dick, Hank thought he'd come right then and there, and he had to gulp air for control. She rolled the condom down his dick and pulled the tip out a little when she was done, just like you're supposed to. He was about to say something, having fought off another orgasm, when she suddenly reared up and slipped his condom-clad dick right into her cunt. He watched it disappear into her depths, and his breath caught. He heard the wrinkle of the latex as his penis slid inside. She was so hot, he thought he wouldn't be able to last more than a minute. Sandy bent forward in a quick motion and hit the pillow on either sides of his head with her elbows. Her face hovered slightly above his. Her dark brown eyes swallowed him up, and he stared deeply into them. "Relax," she sighed, shaking her head. "Let me do the work." She smiled and began a long, slow grind. The pleasure of the motion boiled up in her tunnel, and as she reached the base of his dick, her clitoris was forced back into her pubic bone and rubbed between it and his soft flesh. "Mmmmmmm," moaned Sandy, closing her eyes and mashing her breasts against his chest. Hank moved his hands up to her ass, and he stroked and fondled both cheeks lovingly. When she pulled herself back off his penis, he let up on the pressure, and when she thrust forward again, he pushed her further down onto his dick. The feeling was sensational; his penis was buried in the tightest, warmest, smoothest place he thought he'd ever felt, and the condom was actually helping him from shooting off. "Uhhhhh," grunted Sandy, sliding her pelvis up and then back down again more quickly than before. "Mmmmh!" She bit her lip and hovered about a foot from his face. "Damn," she moaned, increasing the speed with which she sheathed and unsheathed his penis in her vagina. Her clitoris felt like it was the size of a plum, it was so engorged now. When she started to pick up speed, Hank shifted his hands from her butt to her tits. They swayed up and down ever so slightly with the fucking, and he lazily stroked them in and out of reach as they went up and away from him and then back down again with her movements. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and opened them again, staring right into hers. He grabbed her nipples and pinched them. She closed her eyes for a second but opened them again, still not looking at him. He pinched again, harder, and she moaned and closed her eyes, but still kept her gaze fixated on some object to his left and over his shoulder. He used his fingernails, and he literally gouged her nipples, starting softly and then building the pressure until her moan grew into a low wail. She shoved her pelvis onto him, and he felt the tightness increase and his penis throb in response. She was looking straight into his eyes now, and her motions slowed but picked up tremendously in intensity. It was like she was taking him in all the way up to his butt or something. He felt like his whole body was a giant piston inside her cunt, and he suddenly had to concentrate on something else to keep from spraying. Hank scrunched up his lower body, trying to slide his head down to her chest, and she obliged him, riding higher up and bending his dick flatter against his belly. His mouth found her nipple, and he bit her harder than he intended to. The pulling sensation was reaching a critical level, and he lost himself in passion. Sandy cried out in ecstasy and unexpectedly shifted into double-time on his dick. Pumping like a mad dog, she heaved her pelvis up and down on him in such a fashion that his breath was crushed out of him, and he wheezed on her breasts while he continued to chew and lick her right nipple. She quickly forced his other hand over to her left nipple, and he began to twist and pull it as well. They were drenched in sweat, and Sandy was near exploding. The perspiration dribbled off her forehead and onto the pillow directly below her. Her pubic bone dug into the soft flesh above his dick, and he almost cried out in pain as her thrusts became more and more powerful. Yet the pain somehow turned him on so much that his dick swelled and pulsed inside her tight cunt. "Uhhhhhhh, OhhhhHHHHH!!!!!" cried Sandy, intensifying her efforts to an incredible degree. The whole bed was shaking and creaking, and Hank could barely manage a breath in between being squished by her pistoning body. Her breasts jiggled back and forth, her nipples almost felt as hard as his teeth, and her clit had sunk back away from her hole. "OHHHH!!" she bawled after a deep breath, and her thrusts gradually lost their strength. Hank felt his entire body was wet; his crotch felt like it was underwater, and her cunt felt entirely new. It was suddenly looser, and his dick continued to sway in and out and around inside. He backed off from her nipples with his teeth and merely sucked them between lip and tongue and made little circles. She had come, and come buckets, and his penis felt like it was going to explode. "Need . . . something . . . else?" gasped Sandy, riding out the last of her orgasm atop his thrusting peter. Her face was limp, like the rest of her body, but she suddenly came back to life and began to rub her crotch against his again, but with less vigor. "Ah," groaned Hank. "Uh." He buried his face in her cleavage, and she reached down and clamped her breasts around his face. Sandy pushed herself onto him exceptionally hard, and his dick suddenly clenched up and began its lightning-fast climb to orgasm. His eyes shot open, and he started moaning. Deep inside her, Sandy could feel his dick begin its spasming, releasing his spunk inside the rubber. He had held it for as long as he could. The feeling was incredible, and his pumping seemed like it lasted for a whole minute. When he was finally done, his ears filled up with blood and he crumpled back into the blanket. Sandy slipped his dick out of her dripping cunt, holding onto the open end of the rubber, and rolled off him. She pulled him up so that he could rest his head on the pillow, and she lay her head back into the depression between his shoulder and neck. "Whew," was all that Hank could manage to mutter. His eyes were closed. **** >From ryanedw@ix.netcom.com Sat Mar 22 12:12:50 1997 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Freshman Week Fun 5+6/10 From: ryanedw@ix.netcom.com (Ryan Edwards) Date: Sat, 22 Mar 1997 10:12:50 -0700 -------- DISCLAIMER: Claim what you want, but this is complete fiction. Nobody is what they seem. The guy? That's only what you THINK. So none of the characters are based on reality. Except maybe Binkie the Mailman. If you're under 18, you might want to ask your mom whether or not you should read this. _____ "Freshman Week Fun" by Rameses and Death [special guest: Sick Little Monkey] no copyright 1997, so duplicate this mutha! Chapter 5 **** Hank was till thinking about it two weeks later. The blow from Alison, them sex with Sandy out of fucking nowhere, Sarah. Jesus, Sarah. He had left after the "encounter" with Sandy; she had suggested he not stay around that night much longer, wryly laughing about how he had caused enough 'fucking trouble' that night. Ha. Ha. He had seen Sarah once coming across campus; she made a very noticeable and purposeful turn in the opposite direction just to avoid even a glance at him. he has respected her feelings and avoided her then and since. Thankfully, they ate in different dining halls across campus and the only class they shared was a huge Intro to Macro Economics lecture with nearly 250 students. He had seen Alison once since she had left to go and speak with his ex-girlfriend. She had dropped by his double for a chat a few days after things had blown over. They chatted; of course, Hank was naked at the time. Thankfully, his room draw luck had saddled him with an engineering student, and the guy only used the room every now and then to sleep. Hank thanked his luck because given what he and Alison had spent the night doing would have made Jason's Coke bottle thick glasses steam up. Through all the haze of the events of his first week at college, Hank had not really devoted himself fully to his classes. His mind kept racing onto Sarah's embarrassed face, Sandy's incredible tits, and Alison's amazing body. It was enough to drive him insane. But Pierson University had a reputation for strong academics, and after bombing the first two papers in his freshman anthropology seminar, he found himself in Dr. Kent's office explaining himself. Unfortunately, he was late for her office hours because he got out of chem lab late, so Dr. Kent suggested he return after dinner, as she usually was in her office from 7-10 PM. Hank sheepishly agreed; he was not quite accustomed to having to meet with teachers about poor grades. Hank quickly ate dinner alone in a corner booth and fretted about his predicament. Maybe he'd give Alison a ring later that night, just to see if Sarah was doing better, see if Alison could come over, or maybe Sandy could.... He tried to focus on what he was going to say to Dr. Kent. Dr. Mellinda Kent was one of the world's leading academics on cross-culture social practices, particularly rites of passage into adulthood. She wouldn't buy the old excuses for poor work in her class. If he wanted to major in anthropology, he needed to come up with something original or tell the truth outright. "Uhh, Dr. Kent, I just want to say that my papers haven't been great so far because I've been having some personal problems with a friend, well, actually, my ex-girlfriend" It sounded better in the dining hall booth. Dr. Kent pushed her glasses down her nose, dropped her gold pen, and said, "What?" Hank was scared now. "I was distracted, but I swear, I'll put it behind me and work harder. I really enjoy your class, and I may eve major in this department, so, please, give me a chance to write some really good papers for you." Dr. Kent pushed away from her desk and circled the desk. hank gripped the sides of his chair and met her stern gaze. She was a tall woman, above average, maybe 5'11". She had long dirty blonde hair tied into a rope that dangled down the back of her white blouse. Her chest was already legendary in his seminar, for she wore colored bars under her white blouses accentuating what was an ample and surprisingly firm bosom for a woman of her age (33?). "You'll have to do better than that Mr. Mills to get a good grade in my class," she whispered. He felt the cold steel against his right wrist first. He did not realize what was happening until the other half of the cuff locked onto his left wrist and his hands were secured under the chair's seat behind his back. Hank had no leverage, and fear swelled from his stomach to his throat. However, Hank's penis did not register fear any different than pleasure, and sure enough his hard on began to rise in his jeans without any conscious control. "Dr. Kent, I--" he stammered. "No! I am Mellinda, your mistress, and you are my slave." She slapped his face and left a red sting on his cheek. "Slaves do not speak to their mistresses without permission. They do not do ANYTHING unless they are told. Are we in agreement?" Hank nodded. "Speak, slave!" she bellowed. Her hand slapped his other cheek, a little lighter this time. "Yes, ma'am." he suggested. Mellinda calmly straddled his legs and began to unbutton her blouse. Her heaving breasts were clad in an emerald green brassiere, just inches from his gaping mouth. Hank was still reeling from the speed of her transformation, but something primal in him responded to this treatment. His dick was saluting her audacity and she had to feel it through her knee high skirt and panties as she sat right above it. Hank leaned forward and attempted to lick her chest. She abruptly pulled away and pushed his shoulder back against the chair. "Did I say you could do that slave? Now you must be punished." she hissed. Slowly, she slipped off the bra, shaking it just a little as her breasts were freed completely. Then, while keeping his shoulders pushed against the back of the chair, she rubbed the twin mound against his forehead and his eyes. As hard as he tried, she had the leverage, and she was in control. All he could do was watch...and feel. After a few agonizing minutes that might as well have been hours, She slipped back off of him. Hank gushed out a breath of air. Mellinda stood in front of him and lightly pushed his wheeled chair into the center of her office. Then, to a tune he could imagine she was listening to in her head, she stripped off her skirt, her white half-slip, and stood in front of him clad only in her matching emerald green thong panties. She bent over with her hands toward her desk and waved her pearly-peach ass cheeks in his direction, looking under her armpit at his stupefied visage. Hank's wood was straining against his zipper now, but only she could free it. Mellinda, oblivious to his pain, finished her dance by throwing the panties, soaked with her female musk, onto his face with a perfect lob toss from her left big toe. "Now," she sneered with her fire engine red lips, "We ride the stud." When she pulled the riding crop out of her desk drawer, Hank knew just how serious she about the" riding" part. Her fingers were surgical in their precision. She undid the buttons of her shirt with her teeth as her hands unleashed his engorged monster from his jeans and boxers. His blue oxford had lipstick smears along its midline, and his white T-shirt underneath was removed with scissors, but Hank was too dazed to care. Hank's penis stood erect up to his belly button. Mellinda eyed it critically, noting things out loud in a disturbingly analytical fashion. "Maybe 7 inches erect...slight tilt to the right side, indicating right handed dominance...Tanner Stage 4 pubic hair...a fine European specimen." "God," Hank cried, "Don't just look at it" The pressure was getting to him. "Tsk, tsk," she whispered leaning down towards his crotch. At first he dreamed, he HOPED she would relieve him in some fashion. Instead, she plucked out one, two, three, four pubic hairs Hank felt each exquisite rip and nearly shot off each time. Pain, he thought, was now pleasure. It excited the shit out of him. Mellinda moved with a cat-like grace over him again. She lifted up his penis and inserted it into her wet, hairy pond. Leaning one hand on Hank and one on the desk, she pumped up and down several times then paused leading into a slow up and down pump. She continued like this a few minutes, until Hank felt like his sac was about to burst, then she unhilted his shaft, leaving just his red-purple knob inserted. Then, with agonizing control, she made slow circular motions with just his blood-gorged knob parting her slit. There were slight gugling noises as the knob slipped and pushed between her well-lubricated labia Hank thrust his head back so he was looking at the ceiling. This technique was tortuous and somehow, he was enjoying it more than anything else in the world. Dr. Kent must have witnessed some primitive cultural tribeswoman using this method on her sire. Western minds could not dream of something this exotic and potent. The slap from the riding crop stunned Hank. "Eyes on me, slave!" Hank's eyes grew wide. The slap was the breaking point. His penis began to leap as his nuts pumped his juices against gravity. But then, he felt a searing burning pull on his sac. Mellinda, sensing his imminent climax, had reached down and yanked his ball away from his body. His tests fought to return to their comfort zone, but they failed, and his orgasm with them. "AWWWWGHHHUUUUHHH" Hank exclaimed. "Slave will cum when he is asked," she said politely. Mellinda released her iron grip on his balls and threw her imposing frame onto him. She thrust her enormous (and only slightly sagging) breasts into his mouth and he licked her rosy red nipples eagerly. She thumped her full body up and down onto Hank with increasing fury. Her excited juices sprayed over his lower abdomen and thighs, soaking his jeans. His penis ached from the ferocity of the fucking, but he didn't care. "Ohhh, ride me, stud! YES! Fuck me, you young stallion. FUCK ME!" Her orgasm came first. She ocked her head back and forward for a few moments, the violence of her shaking undoing the thick braid down her back. She pushed his face into her cleavage while moaning, and Hank could not hold back his aborted load any longer. "UHHHHH! MUHHHLINDAAAAAAHHHH! I'M CUMMMMIN!" he cried. Mellinda leaned back against the desk and absorbed his spasms of cum. She pulled his slackening rod out for the last few dribbles. Hank's cum spit onto her silky pubic hair and dripped onto the rug below. Mellinda smeared the milky droplets like lotion onto her cunt lips, and then smeared her moistened fingers along Hank's lips. He sighed and nearly fainted in his chair. "Now, slave," she cooed. "If you can get hard in the next five minutes, you'll get an A for the semester." Without mercy or pause, she began pumping his flaccid rod. **** Chapter 6 **** Sarah was in definite disarray, or at least that's how she felt. All that crap with Sandy and the whole lesbian love thing that really didn't make any kind of sense yet was strangely really meaningful only combined with the confusion she was feeling about Hank's trysts and apparently continuing intimate relationship with HER OWN FUCKING ROOMMATE. And then there was last Saturday night, when she got really staggering drunk at this frat party that she had been talked into going to by the very same Hank-screwing Alison. Jesus Christ, that was ridiculous. The whole thing had started out more or less sedately for those kinds of things; some lame disco ball in the living room, which had been emptied of furniture and filled with about two hundred sweaty freshmen. They blasted Techno until about midnight, and then somebody got a hold of the CD player and stuck in some rap. It only got worse after that, although maybe the fact that she had downed TWO whole margaritas and a beer by that time had contributed to her bewildered state. Wandering upstairs, Sarah had stumbled around between bedrooms looking for someplace to pee, her bladder bursting underneath the tightness of her belt and jeans. They each had looked about the right size for a bathroom, even if she wasn't seeing clearly at the time. She counted five different sexual encounters that she stumbled across while searching. In one room the light from outside had illuminated the blurry shapes of a woman lying on a pile of crumpled laundry, naked from the waist down, drunkenly giggling with content as her lover held her legs on either side of his chest and pounded his penis deep into her. His grunts startled and excited Sarah, who felt the blood rush to her head and her knees begin to bend in ways they shouldn't. The girl on her back cried a little more loudly and stuffed her knuckles into her mouth, her saliva glistening in the faint yellow light. Sarah thought she could see her breasts jiggle even beneath her blouse. She must have big boobs, thought Sarah. Again the confusion. It almost made her stomach turn upside-down. How could she want both of them at once? She wished they were both naked suddenly, and then chastised herself for thinking in such a brazenly lustful way. Embarrassed, Sarah took a deep breath and quickly left the doorway. Down the hall on the same side a similar tiny-looking room from the outside turned into another bedroom, this one lit by a halogen lamp leaning in the corner behind the door. Damn, she needed to go! And all of these places looked alike before she virtually got inside them! Before she moved on, she heard not one, but two grunts from the room and was incredibly curious. She peered around the edge of the half-closed door and spied first one naked man, his back to her, and then another, facing her direction, both standing. Between them she could see the exposed whiteness of a back adorned by long blonde hair and a butt reared up against the groin of the second guy, who was fucking her slowly. Sarah gasped when she realized what the girl was doing. A smacking of lips and more groaning confirmed it. Bending over, the blonde was taking the first man in her mouth while the second one humped her lustily from behind. Despite the pain from her abdomen, Sarah's juices responded startingly to this new scene. She could feel the dampness growing in her panties, somehow sapping away the intensity of her need to pee. Her mouth got dry, and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. "Ohhhhh!" cried the girl, removing her mouth from the penis and shaking her hair so that it coiled off her back and down to the floor. "Do it. DO it!" She was breathing more heavily, and she lifted herself up from her bending position, her hand dropping noticeably down to her crotch. As she did so, the man behind her grunted and shifted into a sitting position, sinking to the floor as she moved up and then pivoted her ass down with his hidden dick stuck deep in her box. Sarah couldn't hear it herself, but her own breathing began to pick up and echo that of the girl's. She suddenly gasped, realizing what she was watching and turning around in the threshold. Looking back into the darkened hallway, she bit her lip and twisted it in indecision. Her crotch was moist, and her nipples tingled faintly, and now she could hear and feel that her breaths were deeper and more labored. Shaking with arousal, she closed her eyes and slid stealthily back to the door. Beyond it, she heard the girl mutter, "Come on, give it to me. OHHH!!" A squishing, wet sound broke through the sound of three people breathing for an instant, and then resided. "No," continued the blonde, more slowly, as if the words were becomind harder to form with each passing moment, "I m-meant you. C'mere." Sarah peered around the door again and saw that the second man had sat down completely now, and his hands gripped the girl's hips tightly, sawing her up and down on his shaft. The second man was putting his penis between the girl's breasts, which she held together for him. They weren't large, jiggly, fluid-filled boobs, thought Sarah, but they were attractive, especially when she pushed them together, as they would appear with an invisible bra. The nipples were light pink, barely distinguishable from the surrounding skin. As his penis slid into her cleavage, the guy groaned again and quickly started massaging her breasts with both hands, bending up and down with his knees while still standing, running his dick in and out of her cleavage slowly, rubbing her tits against his peter continuously. His dick wasn't exceptionally long, thought Sarah, but it had a funny curve to it that was new to her. It was unlike Hank's in most ways; that was the only other reference point she really had. Even Bobby back in highschool would never show her his penis, even though she had rubbed it through his pants and let him touch her breasts too. The sight of his butt moving up and down, clenching and unclenching as he moved his dick in and out, caused her heart to beat faster and the fluids to bubble out of her. She had the feeling of her jeans getting soaked through down there, even if she knew they couldn't be. Gasping, the girl began to mew and groan uncontrollably. Behind her, the second guy squeezed his eyes shut and stopped his movements suddenly. As if brutally disappointed and reproachful, the girl suddenly redoubled her pelvic efforts, lifting up and shoving herself back down onto his dick with incredible force, and then doing the motion all over again even harder. The second guy cried out. "UHH!" His eyes forced open and he suddenly doubled over, crushing his chin into her back as his orgasm jolted out of him. Groaned, the blonde continued her mad rush, furiously rubbing her own breasts and the first man's penis in front of her while she rode the jerking, shivering man beneath her. With a loud gasp, she suddenly stopped also, and Sarah could see all her muscles tighten. Quickly, her hands resumed their rubbing while her cunt spasmed, and she inhaled deeply. By now, Sarah saw a white ooze dripping out of her vagina, and she was clearly nearing the end of her own orgasm. The man behind her had stopped his contortions and slumped to the floor, his arms folding beneath his head as he reclined, his penis still entombed within his lover's slit. The only motion remaining was that of the first guy, who had grabbed both breasts of the girl roughly and was speeding up his pace. Sarah felt the warmth of her blood returning to her face, and a swell passed through her belly. She began to shiver, and she could feel her nipples tighten and shrink, sticking and pulling against the fabric of her bra. Breathing more calmly finally, she slipped away back into the hall, just in time to hear what was undoubtedly the first guy shoot off. He literally yelped a couple times, and the girl emitted a low shriek, obviously feeling the spray of his semen either in her face or on her chest. Maybe in her hair. The thought sent another shiver down her spine, and the suddenness of her need to urinate was incredible. Behind her, she could hear the contented sighs and heavy breathing of the threesome. Her need was incredible, and her arousal was almost an annoyance. After two more rooms of people having sex, she finally found the bathroom. Neither scene she interrupted could hold a candle to what she just experienced, however. In one a couple was just kissing and fondling, and in the second room she could only hear the sounds, it was so dark. The third door she tried was the bathroom, and she scurried inside, found the lightswitch, and locked the door. The place was filthy, but it had a commode. She flushed down somebody else's piss that had apparently been sitting for a long time, and she wiped off the seat with some toilet paper. In a millisecond she was on the toilet, and her urine virtually shot out of her, foaming and rolling in the water beneath her. She actually smiled and sighed an audible "AH!!" Never this much alcohol ever again. Ugh. Of course, a lot of people drink more than three drinks and they're OK, but it would take a while before she could get up to that level. Shit, she had only been at college a few weeks, and already she was trying to keep up with some of the upperclassmen she saw. Her stream ebbed and stopped, and Sarah tore off another piece of paper. She rubbed it over her place, and inadvertently hit her special spot too. Sarah shuddered. And then she rubbed it again, just a little, on purpose. She shivered, and her nipples got harder again. And the scene returned to her; they were all there, and she was riding up and down, up and back down again, and his penis slid back and forth in her cunt, and between her breasts, and his hands clamped tightly around her waist. She wondered how the penis must have felt in her hands, in her cleavage, rubbing roughly across her nipples, against her clit, through and all around the inside of her vagina, against the lips outside. She was rubbing quickly now, and her breasts swelled almost imperceptibly. Without knowing, she started to heave up and down on the seat, keeping her thighs touching while her body from groin up swelled up, then down, as her fingers/penis slid all around, in and out, back and forth, and focusing on her point of pleasure. She threw her head back in ecstasy, her eyes tightly closed and seeing nothing but the clenching butt muscles moving up and down with the thighs, the waist, and the shoulders. Her mouth fell open, and she sucked in a lungfull of air. The point was coming closer, increasing in intensity, and a deep warmth was building in her depths. She stopped, caught the wave, and rode it out, arching her back so severely that it popped. Exhaling an entire cloud of orgasm-laced euphoria, she removed her hand and laid it on her thigh, letting the blood course through her crotch and slowly return calm to her limbs as the pounding subsided. She had diddled in the fucking FRAT HOUSE, for God's sake! Sure, she had been drunk, but Jesus, what the hell? And she couldn't forget the picture of that triad, no matter what she thought of. Since Saturday she had masturbated twice more --- a pace she hadn't ever kept up --- and both times, she couldn't clear the image of the lovers from her head. Something had changed within her, that was sure. But what was it? She didn't think she was finding it out just lying in bed at night, rubbing her clit over and over until she exploded in silent, personal, formal joy. This wasn't anything new. No, there was something else. Something looming on the horizon. There had to be. **** >From ryanedw@ix.netcom.com Sat Mar 22 12:13:03 1997 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Freshman Week Fun 7+8/10 From: ryanedw@ix.netcom.com (Ryan Edwards) Date: Sat, 22 Mar 1997 10:13:03 -0700 -------- DISCLAIMER: Claim what you want, but this is complete fiction. Nobody is what they seem. The guy? That's only what you THINK. So none of the characters are based on reality. Except maybe Binkie the Mailman. If you're under 18, you might want to ask your mom whether or not you should read this. _____ "Freshman Week Fun" by Rameses and Death [special guest: Sick Little Monkey] no copyright 1997, so duplicate this mutha! Chapter 7 **** Hank was more tired than he had ever been. With every passing moment he regretted his beer-influenced decision of the previous weekend to pledge "Pi Psi Beta." Hank's grades were hitting bottom (except his Anthropology seminar), he had gotten to a single class on time for the last 10 days, he had slept maybe 3 hours a night on average, and here he was stripped bare to his waist, standing in a puddle of flat Michelob, and singing the most sexist song known to man while being rated, yes, rated on his singing ability by three seniors with clipboards whom he did not even know. He really regretted when he got himself into situations like this one. But, frankly, he had no choice. He had hoped to meet new friends and form bonds within a month, but here it was nearly the end of first semester and his social life was dead on arrival. Hank's thoughts turned to all the women in his life. Alison. Sandy. Mellinda. Sarah. With Sarah came a pang of, well, he did not know what to call it. Guilt? Remorse? Fear? Affection? Love-- Slap! The PPB brother's paddle left a smarting welt across Hank's shoulder blades. "Pay attention!" Hank's pledge sponsor yelled. "Sorry," Hank replied sheepishly. Unfortunately, the throbbing welt brought back memories of a few weeks back with Mellinda. She had introduced him to her full length whip and the very painful world that came with it. Now, his penis began to spring to life, for she had trained him to react to pain with sexual excitement. "If he smacks me with that again," Hank mused, "I'm going to lose my load right here." "Okay, pledges, now that you've drank from our sacred chalice, felt our paddles, and learned our songs, you must enter or dungeon and meet our final test!" Hank did not care what awaited him so long as it was a bed or a relatively flat surface. The "dungeon" was nothing more than the frat house's basement, redone for some silly initiation rite. He hated to tell them, but the sacred chalice reeked of vomit, their songs were atonal and violated the unspoken laws of good taste, and their paddles were moments way from ending up in their asses. "In you go!" Hank was pushed onto the stair steps by two of the larger PPB brothers. The stairwell was completely dark, as was the basement. There were sounds of people shuffling from side to side at the bottom, but it was very hard for him to see as his eyes were still accommodating to the dark. The brawny PPB brothers shoved him down the stairs, and Hank barely managed to keep his balance as his bare feet hit the cold concrete floor. His pledge brother had warned him about the dungeon. Every year, it was different. His pledge brother's year, it had been a combination of beers around the world, blow pong tournament, and circle jerk. Hank really was not in the mood for more liquor, and he was not exactly thrilled at the thought of wasting perfectly good semen as a pizza topping. Still, whatever they asked, he had to do. He worried about what awaited him in the darkness of the basement. Some light crept down the stairs, and another initiate was tossed down the stairs. A third initiate joined moments later. The three freshman stood around in the dark hoping some indication of what awaited them would become apparent soon. A pair of hands grabbed Hank from behind around his waist. He felt his belt buckle undone, then his pants and boxers were unceremoniously yanked down to his ankles. "Hey, what's the big...idea," Hank lost his focus on the last word. The hands were moving up his thighs. When they reached his semi-erect member, they playfully mingled with his thick patch of pubic hair. The slender fingers stroked his penis, which immediately responded to its royal treatment. While one hand stroked his elongating shaft, a second gently kneaded his nut sac. Hank groaned with the pleasure that swelled up from his crotch, shivered up his spine, and set off fireworks in his head. "Welcome, gentleman, to Pi Psi Beta initiations," a voice smoother than silk and alarmingly familiar whispered from behind him. "We're the sisters of Delta Sigma Omega. Pleasure us at our Roman orgy." The lights were slowly raised to a moderate glow. The basement couches had been rearranged into a "U" shape. On each lounged a voluptuous representative of DSO, a sorority whose legendary oral sex had earned them the nickname "Dicks Sucked Off." The blonde on the first couch was damn near the most beautiful woman Hank had ever seen. Like the other two girls, she was dressed (barely) in a thin silky white nightgown that hid nothing. Her 36B breasts were pert and featured two wonderfully reddish-brown nipples. Her smooth belly flowed into the triangular delta of meticulously clipped sandy blonde pubic hair. Her long legs (she was maybe 5' 9" standing, Hank figured) were smooth as virgin ice. Hank had trouble shifting his gaze to the next couch to the right. The raven haired beauty on the central couch was an equally pulchritudinous delight. What she little she lacked in figure she more than compensated with in attitude. When Hank first peered at her, she slowly withdrew her left index finger from between her curved lips and licked the whole length of the finger with her pointed red tongue for good measure. She trailed the wet digit down her chin and over her pearly white neck. When she reached her ample bust, her other hand joined the fun. She pinched both nipples and pulled them away from her breasts, adding a little "ohh" just to drive the three men a little more over the edge. Her hands then left her ripe mounds and squeezed between her womanly calves. She spread her legs slightly, and probed her moist slit with her two hands. A looks of utter rapture and bliss passed across her face and she released another endearing "ohhh." The third couch was empty at first, but Hank realized the woman who had stripped them was its occupant when she materialized from behind them (he had not really been paying attention). To Hank's surprise (beneath a bit of makeup that made her look just a bit on the trampy side), the third DSO girl was Alison! He recognized her reddish brown hair and her petite frame even in the dim light. She straddled the couch and fell teasingly so her gown rolled up to her belly button. The three of them got a delectable view of her pink pussy lips. Alison then signaled and beckoned each man to his partner. Hank, by luck or design, was paired with the brunette in the center. When he got within range, she sat up on the couch. Her mouth descended to his cock and Hank felt the refreshing sensation of a wet mouth on his glans. To his left, he heard the other initiate groan. Suddenly, a jet of semen struck the blonde in the face, and she recoiled with a giggle. The boy was red in the face and seemed genuinely disappointed at his breif showing. Hank's dark-haired mate pulled away quickly from Hank's engorged penis and caught the next shot of cum from his premature ejaculation. The blonde pushed her away with a squeal, "Mine, Dee, get your own!" The initiate's third and fourth shot splattered on Dee and her blonde competition's faces. When Dee returned to hank's cock, she had a slick silvery streak from the bridge of her nose to her chin. "Now, where was I?" she asked examining Hank's waiting staff. She shot forward like a snake consuming its prey and took him up to his nuts. Her tongue worked his shaft like a pop sickle while she applied an amazing amount of suction to the shaft. "Hey, no fair, mine went limp!" the blonde cried from Hank's left. She crawled onto the floor and put her head between Hank's legs. Hank felt another mouth join Dee's as the blonde laid a sucking kiss onto his sac. Someone was also digging her fingernails into Hank's buttocks, and he was in heaven. Dee released her stranglehold on Hank's cock. "Suck it up, Debbie, you can't have mine, too," Dee added between licks of the ring between his glans and his shaft. Hank's penis was beginning to leap with each electric touch of her raspy tongue. His balls were pulling and tugging in anticipation of a monstrous orgasm. To his right, Hank heard Alison sucking off the second initiate. Gary's (?) grunting was reaching a fever pitch crescendo. Alison clamped down on his spasming firecracker as he unleashed a load of seed into her waiting orifice. Dribbles of cum ran from both corners of her mouth making her look like a mischievous five-year old who just gobbled a whole ice cream cone. The guy groaned and fell to his knees, but Alison followed him to the floor and slurped the last dribbles of cum from his dwindling penis. Hank was moments away from joining the guy on the floor. His fatigue, combined with Dee's sucking, was driving him into a giddy, heady state of consciousness. He barely noticed when Dee released his cock and pulled him closer to the couch. He did notice when she thrust her pelvis forward and slid his saliva-slicked member into her moist cunt. The purplish head of his enraged monster parted her moist labia and found its way into the comfortably warm confines of her vagina. Her nimble hands eased the shaft all the way in, so that when he looked down, just a pinkie width of his stalk was visible adjacent to her dark pubic hair pelt. He thrusted forward and back. Dee braced her hands behind her against the couch and accepted each thrust with a nod of her head. With each pound, her tit mounds shook up and down. Hank reached forward and grabbed the meaty orbs. His hands slipped around her sweaty tits; his thumb and forefinger pinched her strawberry red nipples. Alison abandoned her initiate and laid a wet kiss onto Hank's lips. Her tongue darted into his mouth and twisted around his. She inched closer and rubbed her wet cunt mound against his upper thigh. Her hands stroked every inch of his torso. Then, another set of hands grabbed his buttocks, and Hank realized Debbie was mirroring Alison's movements on his left thigh. The two girls' excitement juices ran down his muscular legs as he thumped Dee. Hank was absolutely giddy with the myriad of sensations. Alison worked his nuts between her fingers. She tugged on them, giggled, pulled his shaft half out of Dee's sopping wet cunt, and then, lest he protest, she jammed her long tongue down his throat. Debbie did her best to distract Hank away from Alison and Dee. She licked and nibbled his earlobe. She moved one her legs halfway up his abdomen, smearing her feminine juices along his side. She smashed her breasts into his chest and ran her white hot nipple nubs across his skin. It sent shivers down Hank's spine as she coated his sweaty skin with her musk and used her tits to rub it into him like one would suntan lotion. Then, in one last attempt to drive him wild, she jammed her lubricated middle and index fingers to their first knuckles into his anus. The slick digits drove him wild. The sensation was not dissimilar to the release he felt in his ass after a sufficiently large dump. A tingling flame ran up his back. Dee was rocking much faster now. Hank had held off as long as he could. Hank dug his hands into her breasts while driving his dick straight for her cervix. His cock leapt and unloaded its hot load into her contracting channel. Dee's head shot back, and she exhaled a loud wail into the air. With each orgasmic spasm, Hank shuddered until his limp cock fell out of her cunt. Hank sank to his knees. Dee fell back to the couch. Alison kneeled down next to Hank and planted a small peck on his cheek. "I think you're an amazing PPB brother," she whispered in his ear. Strangely, though, Hank had wished it had been Sarah, and not Alison, who had whispered in his ear at that moment. His musings stopped when he was tossed aside in favor of the next batch of initiates. **** Chapter 8 **** She almost ran right into him while walking swiftly past the mailboxes in the student center. Sarah was leafing through the few pieces of junk mail she had received, and she nearly dropped them all while deftly avoiding plowing straight into Hank, who appeared out of nowhere, walking the other direction at an even more frenetic pace. There was something strange about him, though. . . . "Whoa!" sputtered Sarah, feeling her weight teeter on the ends of her toes as she brought her body to an unexpected screeching halt. Her outstretched fingertips grazed his chest briefly, then she snatched them back toward herself, clutching at the letters. "Hank! Hey!" "Hey Sarah," said Hank, a goofy grin passing over his face, replacing the look of surprise. "I haven't seen you in a little while! What's going on?" "I'm just getting my mail, and then I was going to go back to my room and do some work, I guess. On Thursdays I don't have class after 1:30. What's that?" Sarah pointed at a rough-looking string that was tied around Hank's neck. Hank smiled broadly, almost as if he were proud of something, and replied, "It's holding up this." Turning around, he pointed over his right shoulder to the item dangling from the other side of the string loop. It looked like a sandwich. "Don't tell me. A pledge duty?" "Yeah," he said, still with his back to her. "It's a peanut butter and banana sandwich. Pretty gross, huh?" The sandwich was indeed rather stale-looking, with a large amount of non-sandwich debris stuck to the side that was facing out. The string ran to the middle of the sandwich and then around a few times, and where it touched the sandwich the bread had gradually been cut through by the string. To Sarah, it didn't look like the poor thing had very long to live. Hank turned around again. "They make all of us wear one for three days. You know, PPB and all." "But peanut butter and banana would be P-B-B, wouldn't it?" Sarah narrowed her eyes and sniffed, smirking. "Hey, the Greeks spelled butter with a 'p', I guess. Go figure." Hank realized the whole thing probably seemed really stupid to her, but he was still proud in a strange sort of way. He had seen a few other dudes wearing sandwiches the last two days, and every one he ran into had a friendly thing to say to him, at least. They were all definitely in the same boat on this one. One guy's was really disgusting, all gooey and shriveled. He had said he kept it on while showering. "Pretty dumb, huh?" He bent his neck and looked at his hands. "Hey, whatever does it for you, that's cool," she laughed. "Some guys like boobs, some guys like butts, and you, I guess, just like mouldy sandwiches. I understand." He wrinkled his brow at her. As far as he could remember, it wasn't her habit to just randomly mention tits and ass like that. He had to fight to suppress a smile. Good little Sarah. She had never been like that when they dated. "Hey now," he scolded, "I guess you just aren't up on ALL the initiation rituals, huh?" "Actually Alison told me ALL about it, chum," said Sarah, winking at him. She was just waiting for that to come up, and she could hardly contain herself. In fact, she and Alison were pretty close; they talked a lot about how they each felt about sex and guys and bizarre love triangles. Her lips pulled at her teeth in an irresistable drive to smile. She held out for as long as she could, but eventually, Sarah broke out laughing. Hank's blood ran cold, and he felt his ears almost ringing with the revelation. Holy shit! He started stammering something without any kind of sense or coherency. "Er, I didn't think that, um, yeah; I went and she, uh. . . ." Sarah just laughed at him, although at least she kept relatively quiet about it. But anyone actually LOOKING at them would surely realize what was going on. He was bright, bright red, and she was rapidly approaching the same color through giggling so hard. "You dumbass! What, you don't think we TALK?" she cried, doubling over. She couldn't held dropping all her mail to the floor, and she didn't even try to summon the discipline to pick them up while writhing in laughter. "Ha ha ha!!" "Um, well, ha ha ha. . . ." Hank couldn't help himself either. It was starting to seem kind of funny to him too. This WAS Sarah, after all, and he had talked with her about pretty personal stuff before upon occasion, so it wasn't as if some complete stranger had come up to him and disclosed his very own sexual history right back to him. But somehow he hadn't wanted Sarah to know --- he didn't want her to know what he had done with other girls. He felt relieved now, suddenly, but there was also a sense of embarrassment that lingered, which seemed to be tied into not what he did, but rather who knew about it. "I'm sorry," said Sarah, looking up at him while holding onto her knees. "That was pretty mean. But I couldn't resist. You and your smug little 'well-you-don't-know-what-we-big-boys-do' thing were just begging to get brought down a little bit." "I'm glad you were the one to do it, I guess," replied Hank. He bent down. "Let me give you a hand, Miss Know-It-All." He reached for her pile of dropped mail and picked up the first thing that caught his eye. "'Victoria's Secret?'" laughed Hank, standing up straight and looking at the magazine with a knowing smirk. "Hey!" cried Sarah, suddenly the object of the teasing now. "Gimme that!" On the cover was the usual thin-waisted, pouty-lipped, completely stacked model wearing some emerald-green nothing. Hank was about to open it up and leaf through it when Sarah snatched it away. "So. I guess I like mouldy sandwiches, and you just like skanky lingerie, huh?" Now it was Sarah's turn to blush, but she wasn't nearly as speechless as Hank had been. "Skanky? Yo, Hank, do you know what you're even talking about? I seem to remember a certain Valentine's Day going by completely forgotten a few years ago by a certain moron who was dating this incredibly wonderful and beautiful girl at the time." "Yow! Now let's not get personal here!" Hank was smiling, though. "I asked you whether I could get you underwear for your birthday, you know, and you said no." It was true; he remembered that moment as being one of considerable embarrassment. They were only 16 at the time, and he felt for sure that she had shot down the idea as another example of "moving too fast." God, he had gotten used to that phrase over the years. Somehow recent events, having involved significant departures from that philosophy, made those earlier times stand out in his memory even more. He sighed silently at the recollections. Kissing in the front seat of his Taurus, copping a feel on the parents' couch in front of a rented Disney movie, touching her breasts and then being quickly refused and diverted when his hand strayed further down. "Ooo! Now THAT brings back memories," said Sarah. Hank looked at her quizzically; how did she know what he was thinking? But no, she was only referring to the whole underwear thing. "You know, that didn't last forever. My boyfriend Alex gave me something without asking actually, so I didn't have much choice." "Alex Lindstrom?" "Yeah. You knew we were going out," replied Sarah. She was suddenly struck by the emotion in Hank's face. He was clearly disturbed by the knowledge that someone else had given her lingerie. Her stomach tingled slightly in response, and she felt a warm rush that immediately subsided. Whoa, she thought. That was really weird. What WAS that? "Yeah, but I thought that was only for about three months! He bought you lingerie?" He was definitely puzzled. This didn't exactly fit with what he knew about Sarah. Of course, there was that whole lesbian thing with Sandy that REALLY blew the hell out of his preconceptions, but that whole Sandy thing was just way too fucking weird to begin with. "Uh huh. We kind of went too fast." Hank grinned. There was that phrase again. "I guess I just shouldn't have asked, huh?" Sarah slowly returned his smile, exhaling through her nose in a small laugh. "No, you shouldn't have. You just should have gotten me something without asking that I'd never wear ever again and wouldn't like anyway. You know I just really never know what I want and need some guy to tell it to me," she laughed sarcastically. "We chicks just really need to be dominated deep down, after all." "Yeah, right," snorted Hank. He knew she was shitting him on this one. If there's one thing Sarah would never be mistaken for it was a submissive, passive creature. Even so, he was wondering if he was mistaking the obvious meaning of her words for something more subtle. He looked absent-mindedly at her body, and then quickly pulled his gaze back to her face, realizing what he was doing. But before he regained his wits, he had already scoped her out enough to cause his blood to heat and his heart to begin thumping audibly in his ears. He hadn't meant to, but his eyes had focused on her breasts, vaguely outlined behind the knit cotton turtleneck and the loose, untucked flannel shirt she was wearing. His mind was filled with memories of her breasts, pale and cold to the touch in the coolness of the darkened family room in front of the TV. They bobbed when she rose to hug him, and he couldn't keep from staring. His breath quickened, and he felt his ears ringing slightly. He tried to focus on her eyes, and the intensity of her stare almost startled him. Sarah caught him. She knew where he had looked, and she wasn't sure, but she thought it excited her. Her stomach rearranged itself for an instant, and she felt warm for a moment, but then she was back to normal and looking at him, trying to detect exactly what was running through his head. There probably wasn't much point. She knew him well enough to realize that most of the time she really couldn't figure out what he really wanted to do, and that most of the time he ran on impulse. That was the way he had always been with her; impulsive, really impulsive, but also really, really cautious. The combination had kind of thrown a wrench into anything. She recalled the first time she let him touch her boobs; he kept asking if it was okay, and she practically had to put his hand on her himself, almost defeating the purpose of the whole thing. He had asked for her to take her shirt off, which had sent chills down her spine and set her heart racing, but then he kept being so hesitant to DO anything. There were plenty of times she had stopped him from doing something, to be sure, but she wished that he'd just get used to it and quit trying to anticipate everything, ruining the spontaneity in the process. After a while, though, he retreated into passivity with her (Her knowledge of this was all with the benefit of hindsight, of course), and he simply stopped being daring for some reason. They never really got very far before calling it off in the end, and she always wondered if there might have been a way for them to interact that could have preserved what was instead suffocated. Suddenly she felt an impulsive streak. "Listen," she began, twisting her foot back and forth on one toe without noticing. Hank, looking down suddenly, observed it. "Why don't you come back to my room? It seems like it's been forever since we've talked, you know!" Hank swallowed hard. His dick was suddenly jerking around in its typical pre-hard-on dance in his shorts, and he felt a little weak suddenly. This is nothing, he told himself, nothing but a friendly chat, just like we've been having for the last couple of years. Nothing else. Nothing. Not unless . . . she wants it to be something, anyway. Nothing. "Yeah!" he almost shouted, quickly dropping his voice back to appropriate levels and shaking his head at the mistake. "Yeah, it's been a really long time! It would be good to . . . catch up on . . . lost time." Hank tried hard to suppress a grimace. Shit! Had he given himself away with that last remark? At times like this these phrases seemed to jump out of his mouth completely unbidden. His shlong literally seemed to take over not only his thoughts, but his vocal cords and lips too. Sarah smiled. "Great! Let's go!" She grabbed him by the arm authoritatively. She was going to take charge of this, of them, of him, of this feeling that was growing stronger within her with each passing moment. It was time to straighten it out and find out what was going on with her feelings, and Hank seemed to be somehow at the center of everything. She wasn't sure what she was doing was really a good idea, but she was improvising. Like all good boys do. "Oh wait a minute," she said as they reached the student center door. "What?" "You have to take off your sandwich BEFORE I let you into my room, okay?" **** >From ryanedw@ix.netcom.com Sat Mar 22 12:13:15 1997 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: Freshman Week Fun 9+10/10 From: ryanedw@ix.netcom.com (Ryan Edwards) Date: Sat, 22 Mar 1997 10:13:15 -0700 -------- DISCLAIMER: Claim what you want, but this is complete fiction. Nobody is what they seem. The guy? That's only what you THINK. So none of the characters are based on reality. Except maybe Binkie the Mailman. If you're under 18, you might want to ask your mom whether or not you should read this. _____ "Freshman Week Fun" by Rameses and Death [special guest: Sick Little Monkey] no copyright 1997, so duplicate this mutha! Chapter 9 Sarah was absolutely giddy by the time she unlocked the door to her room. She had walked arm-in-arm with Hank for the first time since high school and dragged him speechless up to her room. She continued to marvel how it easy it was sometimes to toy with some men. Back when she was dating Hank in high school, such a naughty thought would never have occurred to her, but here in college, she had learned, and grown, quite a bit. She wagged her ass at him and closed her bedroom door on him. She knew Hank had that surprised puppy dog look she recalled adoring back then. He was probably standing there, staring at the door, thinking "What the fuck is she doing?" Sarah giggled louder than she planned. "Ss-Sarah? Is everything okay?" he asked timidly. "Fine, fine," she said. "Hey, we came here to talk, so start talking." Hank's mind was racing at lightspeed. What has gotten into her? he thought. Why was this same scene playing over and over in his life: go into a room, girl acts weird, have sex--No, not Sarah. "What do you want to, uh, talk about?" he offered. Sarah stopped what she was doing behind the closed door and blew air out of her mouth in the universal symbol of annoyance. "Oh, tell me how your classes are going," she said. Men. "I am getting reamed in freshman chemistry," he said while pacing across her rug. "Lit 181 is okay. That Macro class, well, you know how it is. The only class I have above a C in is my anthro seminar. And that--" Sarah made a grand entrance. The margarita red satin bra and matching panties shaped her body perfectly. She assumed a model stance, one leg bent a little, one calf rubbing the other seductively. Her left hand rubbed the back of her neck and mingled with her dark brown tresses. "See what you missed out on? Alex Lindstrom sure liked it when I put on a fashion show for him with his gifts." A lie, but she was on a roll, she thought. Hank's peter jumped to life in his pants. Christ I hope I don't low my load right here, he thought. There was quite a bit of shock seeing Sarah like this. Seducing him, in her ex-boyfriend's gift. And then she walked by him, like nothing had happened and she wasn't half naked, and sat down on the couch. She patted the cushion next to her scrumptious form and Hank nearly leapt from across the room into it. He managed to sit with a modicum of decorum and dignity. His hands, however, cupped the raging stiffness in his pants. "Sarah, I just wanted to say that I never meant to hurt you," he started. She reached out and rubbed his thigh, dangerously close to the caged monster between his legs. "Let's see," she said. "You get blown by one of my roommates, watch me with another, then, just after I left, you had sex with the second roommate. And that was JUST THE FIRST NIGHT! If you didn't want to hurt me, you have a strange way of sparing me." Hank was quiet. "I-It just happened. I mean, yeah, I could have stopped it, but..." She rubbed his thigh, even higher and closer to his cupped hands. "Oh, Hank, it always was hard to stay angry with you. Look, I forgive you, hell, I forgave you that night really. I just, I wanted to know you still cared about me." "Care? Of course I cared. How could you think I felt otherwise?" She looked away. "Well, it was hard. After we broke up two years ago, I felt like I lost you forever. We were 'friends', well, that an fifty cents would get me a can of pop. So I looked for what I thought we had with everyone, with _anyone_." And then he just said it. Not that it made sense, not that any of this made any sense. "I love you, Sarah. I always have." They were both silent for longer than it should have been comfortable. Her hand wandered up to his. Their fingers locked at the first touch. She leaned into his shoulder. "Kiss me, Hank, like the last two years never happened." And he did. He placed his lips over hers and pressed while a smoldering shuddering fire burned from his head to his groin. They broke their lip lock, resumed with more force, broke, and renewed contact with a mounting passion in each cycle. Sarah realized quickly that this kiss had awakened something deep inside her. She found out how much it had reawakened in Hank when she felt his palms rubbing against her barely clothed breasts. Here was the spontaneity she had longed for; perhaps his recent escapades had done him some good after all. Alison had told her about Hank and his anthropology professor, and that was just wrong. That woman was a sexual predator. Sarah wanted to do Hank so well that he would never think about that skanky old whore again. Hank's hands were rolling her firm jugs, and his erect penis head was poking like a submarine out of his jeans. Sarah unzipped his fly and worked his organ out of his boxer's piss slit. "Ohhh, Sarah," he growled, and this precipitated a deep bite into his neck. "Hank," she whispered as he nuzzled against the nape of her neck. "Let's move to my single. I don't want _anyone_ to interrupt us." She could have dragged him by his pecker and he would have followed her to Hell and back. Hank was elated and shocked. After seeing her with another woman, Hank had worried she had fallen into that bisexual thing forever. But given the throbbing welt on his neck and her deft exploration of his pants, he knew she was still a hot-blooded heterosexual woman. A confused hot-blooded heterosexual woman, but he hoped this encounter would change that confusion into definition. The moment the door closed, clothing began to fly. Sarah yanked Hank's shirt from his chest and over his head, only breaking her stranglehold on his lips long enough to pass the shirt over his face. She then finished the removal of his jeans. Hank stepped back slightly and worked the clasp at the front of her bra, unleashing her two sizable but not obscenely so boobs. Her nipples stood out proudly. Hank ran his hands over them tentatively sending electric shivers down Sarah's spine. "I wish we had done this a long time ago..." he said in a whisper. "Hank," she whispered back. "Shut up and FUCK me." He nodded in agreement. She laid down on her bed, the very same one upon which he had received a blow job from her roommate Alison. Well, she thought, two can play at that game. First she pulled his spongy-stiff meat all the way out of his boxers. She moved so Hank was reclining on his side while she began to plant kisses all over the purple head. She kissed the head, the sensitive frenulum, she even tongued his hairy sac. Hank groaned and writhed with the pleasure he felt. His hands shaped her soft bare buttocks. He managed to work his finger underneath the thong back part of the red satin undergarment and began to pump a finger into her moist twat. each thrust parted her labia, allowing more of her sex juices to stain her panties. She grunted and mewed her approval. Soon, she realized Hank was straining to keep his load. His breathing was increasing, his breaths were shallower. She was also feeling all hot and bothered; Hank definitely had learned what a woman liked since the last time he had tried this with her. His thumb rubbed her clittie while he pumped two digits into her wanted honey pot. She could feel the expectancy, the tingling pleasure welling up from her vaginal walls. She lifted up from Hank's stiff member and pulled off her damp panties, flinging them into her lingerie basket. What Hank did next surprised the shit out of her. He gently spread her legs and buried his head into her downy muff. Just like that, as if reciprocating her oral sex was a pleasure and not a chore. And, indeed, it _was_ a pleasure. His tongue ran around her out labia lips, spreading her hot juices around her whole woman channel. He darted it into and out of her tight canal with increasing frequency. When he found her clit, her world spun apart. Fireworks went off, the world exploded, and she bucked on his face like an untamed horse. "Ugh, ugh, UGH, UHHHHHAAAHHHHHH!" she cried as he continued his assault on her blood gorged orgasm nub. She felt like her uterus had just retreated into her stomach; the orgasm was so powerful. Hank worked her clittie like a trooper. She knew her juices must be coating his face, but she did not care. This was incredible. Finally, she gasped, finally. Hank felt her hands on his head. She pulled his head out from between her legs and looked him in the eyes. "There are some party hats in the top drawer," she said. "Don't you trust me?" Hank asked. Sarah rolled her eyes. "First, there's this thing called _pregnancy_ you might have heard of it. Second, I don't trust all those _others_ you've had recently." He moved quickly after the tongue lashing and rolled a Trojan onto his stiff member making sure to leave air at the tip. There was something about Sarah being dominant that made his erection jump. When Hank returned to the bed, Sarah rolled on top of him. While staring directly into his eyes, she guided his penis into her well-lubricated slit. She silently wondered if it had grown since the last time she'd felt it. Or maybe he was just really into it this time, she mused. Either way, he's yours, honey, she thought. This was not a fuck, because what they both wanted a long, slow screw. She eased back onto his pole and lifted ever so slightly up and down. Hank felt like his dick would tear right off and gallop around the room. The sensations were raw, primal jolts of pure sexual energy that ran from the tip of his bulbous penis head up his spine and set off fireworks in his head. Sarah picked up the pace and leaned forward to ensure that as much of her that could be in contact was. Her fuck juices ran out and coated their intermingled pubes. She clawed Hank's shoulder and rammed her face into the nape of his neck. Hank sucked her earlobe and whatever else she let him have. He left one hand on her smooth ass and ran his other through her silky hair. He pumped her ass like a piston now, forceful but without pain. She started to moan on each downward stroke. Hank met her mouth and sucked her tongue into his. She licked his lips and planted a deep kiss in return. Her stifled cries fell into his throat and his met them halfway. His testes were beginning to send signals of urgent release. Hank could feel her vaginal walls undulating and clamping down. Sarah shot her head back and gasped. "Ohh, Hank, Ohhh, Jesus, OHHHH, OHHHHHH!" Her strong vaginal muscles grabbed on and held his cock. His semen waited no longer. He felt like his prostate was about to blow out of his ass. Jet after jet of spermy fluid sprayed onto the latex and ran back down his cock. Sarah's love tunnel milked a few more drops out of him with their peristaltic movements. It was heavenly. Hank pulled his slackening cock out of Sarah and rolled to the side. Sarah, exhausted, rolled off him and helped remove the condom. She kissed his shoulders right between his scapulae. "You were wonderful, Hank, just like I dreamed." Hank could not think clearly yet. It all made sense, finally. He contemplated a response when he heard the dorm room door open. Alison and Sandy' voices clearly echoed through the common room. ":Sarah? Are you here?" one of them knocked loudly on Sarah's door. Sarah held a finger up to her mouth and Hank kept quiet. "Sarah, I need that blouse you borrowed from me..." "Oh, just go in an get it, Sarah won't mind..." Hank and Sarah exchanged surprised looks and frantically grabbed for clothing. Too late. The door opened and there stood Sandy and Alison. Hank and Sarah, naked as sin, stared back. Sandy broke the awkward silence. "Looks like you two had a good time, mind if we come in and join the fun?" To be concluded... **** Chapter 10 "Sarah, I need that blouse you borrowed from me..." "Oh, just go in an get it, Sarah won't mind..." Hank and Sarah exchanged surprised looks and frantically grabbed for clothing. Too late.... The door slid open driving harsh light into the windowless single. "Oh, oh, oh, what have we got here?" Sandy muttered in a tsk, tsk tone of voice. Alison stood at her side with her jaw dropped slack. Sarah drew her sweat soaked covers up to her chin. Hank tried to do the same. Sandy strutted into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. She had a wicked smile on her sultry dark lips. She cocked her head toward the two occupants of the bed and winked. "Looks like they've made up. Well, Alison, I think there's only one thing left to do." Alison nodded her head sagely and stepped across the threshold. "What, what's that?" Hank asked meekly. Sandy stood up quickly and pulled off her sweatshirt revealing her naked sizable ebony jugs. "Why, Hank dear, the only thing left to do in a situation like this is to fuck your brains out!" Hank turned red all the way down to his johnson, which was already leaping to the cause. Sandy leaned across the bed and reached down for Hank's sleeping member. Alison had stripped down to a skimpy matched pair of robin's egg blue panties and front closure bra. She sat down next to Hank and began rubbing her hands all over his chest. Sarah, who was still getting over her roommates unexpected (and unwanted) entry to her room, found herself more than a little excited by the prospect of a foursome. She knew now that her preferences were far and away heterosexual, but she was not one to deny herself a forbidden fruit when it was presented on a silver platter. Hank turned to Sarah and began to nibble on her earlobe. She was a sucker for that and her juices began flowing quite suddenly. She met Hank's lips and began to probe his mouth with her tongue. Sandy, who has managed to get completely naked, saddled up alongside Sarah. She was so close that Sarah could feel the throbbing heat from Sandy's moist tunnel against her upper thigh. Then, she felt Sandy's lithe fingers working her underneath the covers. Sandy was a mistress of masturbation; she quickly found Sarah's love bud and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. Wave after wave of raw pleasure jumped up Sarah's spine. She moaned into Hank's open mouth as she jabbed her tongue past his. Hank was being worked too. Alison had latched on to his chest with her vacuum suction mouth while fondling his meat under the sheets. She had awakened his penis from its recuperation and was rolling the shaft like a huge fleshy joint in her hands. She pinched his bulbous tip and squeezed out some pre cum. It drove Hank wild and he had to concentrate to keep from shooting off right away. Being a sensitive guy, Hank felt obliged to return the favor. he reached down with his left hand and cupped Alison's downy mound. He snaked two fingers up their second knuckle into her twat and began rhythmically pumping the digits into her hot snatch. Her moistness ran down his fingers and coated his hand in a few thrusts. Alison rewarded him with a deep hickey inducing suck on his left nipple. Sandy had just about driven Sarah to another orgasm. She was experienced enough with giving pleasure to tell from Sarah's groans and spasming that her roommie was close. So, she leaned down between Sarah's legs and decided to finish the job with her mouth. She licked Sarah's warm cunnie and lapped up her female cum. It did not take long before sarah's head arched back and she cried out loudly. Hank had to break off his kiss with her and knew he was not going to be able to hold out long himself in Alison's care. However, she stopped short of jerking him to completion and instead jabbed another raincoat onto his stiff member. he closed his eyes as the pre ejaculatory throbs subsided. When he opened his eyes a moment later, there were three pairs of very hungry female eyes staring back at him. "Okay, stud muffin, let's see what you got," Sandy mewed. And then, like they had choreographed it, all three women opened their legs wide. "One by one, Hank, make sure you share, no favorites!" Sarah said with a wink. Hank crawled up Alison first and began to hump her with reckless abandon. Hank could see that Alison was pumping four of fingers into Sarah's slit, while Sarah was frenching Sandy and feeling up her tits. After a dozen thrusts, Alison dismounted and Sandy jumped onto his dick before it even had a chance to recover. Hank's balls ached and his ass muscles were cramping, but Sandy was insatiable. She wrapped one hand around the base of his man stalk and slapped his ass with her other hand. Now, Hank observed that Sarah was licking out Alison while Sarah fingered herself with piston-like ferocity. Alison's head reared back and she climaxed spraying her scented lubricant onto Sarah's face. Hank could feel his scrot contracting and preparing to hurl forth his seed, but, abruptly, Sandy withdrew him from her tunnel and pushed Sarah forward. Sarah eased up to Hank and hilted him. "Saved the best for last, I hope." She licked the tip of his nose; he could smell Alison's excitement on her lips. Hank's dick was calling the shots now. He began to throw his hot dog into Sarah faster with more intensity than anyone before her or after. Every slam made a slickened slap sound. Sweat ran down his face and his mixed with the myriad of other juices on his body. Sarah dug her nails into his kidneys and held on through another bucking orgasm. Sandy kneaded his sac while Alison rubbed her cunt underneath Sandy's meaty pubic lips. Sandy reflexively grabbed Hank's nuts when her own orgasm spiked through her. Hank could not hold back and rammed his dick home. He collapsed forward onto Sarah and felt his penis shoot wad after wad of heated jizz against the condom wall. A few minutes past as the three women and one man lay in a heap of sweaty, fatigued flesh. Hank's limp organ fell out of Sarah's tunnel and he weakly reached down to prevent any cum from falling into her womb's entrance. Sandy rolled over, stroking both Hank and Sarah tenderly. "I am _so_ glad you two made up," Sandy said. "You're such a cute couple." They all laughed heartily and curled up in a row, Hank and sarah sandwiched between Alison and Sandy. 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