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“Can we talk? I want to get something off my chest.”

“Sure,” I said.

It was 3 a.m. and Martha and I were in my bed. Before we’d fallen asleep, we’d exchanged confidences about the results of our miscarried drinking the previous Saturday night, after a bluegrass concert she’d been part of at a local bar. I was in the audience because I’d met her two weeks before and we’d become lovers. After the performance, I’d gotten roaring drunk and didn’t remember much about what happened from then on.

So for the next three hours Martha told me the story.


Around dawn, I woke up in my dorm room. I didn’t remember how I got there. I had a real headache, but it was my mouth that was the worst. I sorta remembered throwing up on way home, but otherwise — who knew?

I needed to pee. And clean my mouth. A shower seemed like a good idea too. I didn’t remember getting out of my clothes, and I had my bra and panties on, which didn’t make a lot of sense. Anyway, I stripped, put on my robe, and grabbed my toiletries and a towel, and headed for the showers.

My shirt and jeans were hanging over one of the shower rods. I didn’t remember putting them there.

The shower was refreshing, I brushed my teeth, and I was glad nothing worse had happened. In the shower it started coming back to me slowly, in bits and pieces.

The show had been great! The audience was into it, we were all stoked. Afterwards, the place cleared out and the waitress brought a round of beers. We sang and sang, everything we knew.

There was this guy been sitting with you, you introduced him as Paul. He had a good voice and he knew the songs. Charlie ordered tequila and we toasted the show. Later, you ordered another round of tequila, made a big-deal toast, and we chugged it down.

I must have gotten really wrecked. Somehow I got back to my room — why not your place, like I’d expected?

Anyway, I doubted I had gotten home unassisted. Who?

I was looking around the room when I noticed the second bed, where I dump my stuff, had something, or somebody, in it.

I looked closer. It was Paul. His face was so sweet, so young. He didn’t look like he’d started shaving.

I stared at him for a while. Slowly, this naughty feeling came over me and I pulled my pillow over and knelt beside him. Ever-so-gently I slipped the sheet off and discovered he had these Daffy Duck boxers on. AND a morning woodie. Now I felt really naughty.

It must have taken me ten minutes, but I maneuvered the slot in his boxers so that his woodie came out.

I loved his voice. He knew every song we’d sung, and a lot more. And he was cute. I started by licking him. It got harder and I licked some more, and finally I took the head in my mouth and was rimming it when he jumped.

“Wha — who — where — oh god, omigod!” and he tried to sit up.

I popped off and pushed him back onto the bed.

“Be still, you’ll enjoy this.”

I’d thought I’d go slow, but once he was awake it seemed pointless, so I moved in for the kill.

He tensed up, so I knew he was close. “Watch out, I’m gonna cum, take it out, I don’t want — oh god, it’s close, watch out, oooooh goddddd!”

I swallowed everything, then did a victory lap around the head and snuggled up to his face. “Kiss me,” I said, and he did. He seemed startled, but he kept his lips locked on mine.

When he came back to earth, I grabbed his hand and stood up. “C’mon,” I said, and walked us the three steps backward to my bed.

I shrugged off my bathrobe, so now there with nothing between us but his Daffy Ducks. I sat down on the bed and pulled his ass to me. “Let’s get these off.”

“Uh, oh, okay.”

After I’d gotten them down, I looked up and saw he had put his hand over his crotch. “Omigod,” it dawned on me, “he’s never done this before!”

Michael and I had laughed about how awkward our first time was. He wished he’d been more romantic, candles and soft music, so that my first time was really special. But I told him it was him, not anything else, that I wanted, and I meant it.

Now I was going to be someone’s first time and I could make it special. I’d already gotten his attention, so I figured, let’s do it the right way.

He clearly needed some encouragement. I stood up, took his hands, and put them on my breasts. “These are for you to play with.”

He had that “deer in the headlights” look, so I moved his hands around and moaned. Slowly, he got into it. “Now kiss this,” I said, cupping my left one. “Now suck it, use your tongue, a little pressure with your teeth, a little more, oh god yes that is soooo good. Now pinch the other one.”

When he pulled off, to catch his breath, I decided to move him along.

“Come with me,” and I hopped us onto the bed. We knelt, facing each other. I reached for his cock and started stroking.

“No! No! I can’t! Stop!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Had I moved too fast?

“I don’t have a condom, it’s not right.”

“Paul, you’ve never done this, therefore you can’t have a disease, right?”

“Yes, Esenyurt Escort but you —”

“I’m clean, and I’m on the pill.” He looked panic-stricken, and he started to pull away.

“Hey, wait! I can prove it!” He looked at me blankly.

I jumped up and grabbed the STD report out of my desk. “Here, read this, check out the date.” I handed him the paper and got back on the bed.

By now his cock had deflated and I figured we were done. He read it, then looked at me meekly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply —”

“No, you were right, you did the right thing.”

“I’ve wrecked everything! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll go now.” His eyes were darting around the room, looking for his clothes. He had one foot on the floor when I took the report and tossed it toward my desk.

“Stay, please. Let’s finish what we started, now that we have trust.” I reached for his cock and stroked down over his cockhead.

We started all over. I got his hands on my breasts again and started moaning. “Oh god that is soooo gooood,” I encouraged him as he played with them. I was stroking his cock and it was getting hard again.

“They’re so soft, so warm,” and he kissed first one and then the other.

When I had him hard enough, I looked him in the eye. “Paul, we’re going to make love. You showed me something that I admire, that you care about someone other than yourself.”

He was trembling, but he kept his hands on my breasts.

“Lay with me, Paul.” I said, and I slid onto my side, giving him room on the bed. When he didn’t move, I smiled and nodded to the space next to me. Finally he lay down, but far enough away that he wasn’t touching me.

“Closer,” I whispered, and when he got there I felt his cock up against my leg. I smelled his sweat. He was virtually hairless, just the bush around his cock.

“You have a very nice cock.” I reached out and ran my finger across the cockhead and felt the precum. He groaned and his eyes were saucer-sized.

“I want you, now,” using my best come-hither low voice.

He turned his face away from me. ‘I-I-I haven’t, I mean —”

“Shhh, shhh, this will be perfect.”

I opened my thighs and pressed my leg hard against his. He didn’t move at first, but finally he lifted his leg over mine. “Both,” I whispered, and he lifted up and got between them. Then he sat back on his heels.

He was trembling! And the sweat was pouring off him.

“You’re going to put it inside me,” I whispered. I bent my knees and spread them as far apart as they would go, to show him my opening through the hair.

“Lean forward.”

“Am I doing it right?” he asked, as he held himself over me.

“Yeah, that’s it.” I pulled his cock toward me, gently but firmly.

“Push it right in there,” I said softly, and he scooted forward. I felt the very tip of his cock.

“That’s it, perfect. Now forward, yessss.” The head was just inside.

“You’re getting there. Now push some more.” He moved inside about an inch.

“There! Feel good?”

“Ohmigod, yes, it’s so warm. Omigod.”

“Okay now, push, once more, oh god that’s soooo good. Now just a little more, oh yeah, that’s it, now out, now in, oh god yes, deeper.” He had this determined look on his face as he got pretty much buried in my pussy.

“Now dance with me, lover!” I humped up against him a couple of times and he got the idea that he had to move.

He looked frantic, and I knew he was gonna cum any second. “Oh god yes, I’m cumming, I’m cuuuumming!” and I grabbed his shoulders.

He came after about six strokes. “ARRRGHHH! OH GOD, OH MARTHA, I’M CUUUUUMMMMMMING!” His eyes were wild and he looked like he was in serious pain.

Of course he collapsed on me, and I pinned him with my thighs. I wanted to feel his heaving chest against my breasts, feel his cock spasm.

He was getting heavy, so I rolled us on our sides. At first he looked dazed, but then he got this big grin, and his cock was still hard in me. When it finally slid out, I reached for it and stroked it, slick with cum and my juices. Even though I hadn’t cum, I was feeling warm, composed.

I bent over and sucked him clean, then popped off and reached for his face.

“Kiss me, lover, you’ve just made me very happy.” We sucked each other and I ran my tongue around his mouth.

After a couple of minutes just laying there, it was time.

“Okay, stay here, I’m gonna clean us up.” I took my washcloth to the bathroom, got it wet and warm, peed, and came back. I grabbed a towel for myself, then swabbed him completely clean.

“Now you,” and I handed him the cloth and flopped down onto the towel. At first he was hesitant, but he did a nice job of my pussy and thighs. After he was done, he leaned over my face with this huge grin — and sang!

“Martha, Martha, first you blew me Sucked my cum into your mouth. Then you took me to your bed and Fucked me till my lights went out.

“Never in my years of yearning Did I dream of this much bliss. You gave to me the best gift ever Esenyurt Escort bayan Now I want some more of this.”

Carl, it was Beethoven’s Ode to Joy! With, uh, different lyrics. He must have composed it while I was in the bathroom. It was so sweet, I almost cried.

We kissed and played with each other. He was still shy about anything other than my breasts and head, but I got him to walk his fingers everywhere, and he stopped from time to time and kissed something. It was so nice.

I hadn’t paid much attention to his cock when we did it. I mean, it was there, it worked. But now I got a good look at him.

The kid is HUGE. Long, not thick. Later, when we measured it, he turned out to be just over 6 inches when he’s soft, 8½-plus when he’s hard. Circumference-wise, though, he’s barely 4¼ inches around when he’s hard, less when he’s soft.

He said the guys in gym mocked him, called him “pencil dick.” I told him that he could write on my wall anytime, and we laughed. They probably never noticed, but his cockhead is a pretty big mushroom.

He was getting hard again. “This time we’ll do it slow, okay?” He grinned eagerly, he would have done anything I suggested.

I rolled onto my back and held out my arms. He kissed my fingers and moved between my legs, then stopped.

“You’re the man,” I said, “make your move.”

He leaned over me and stuck his tongue in my mouth and we tongue-wrestled. I humped against him. “Sex, I want sex, we can kiss later.”

He poked it against my pussy a couple of times and I saw he was getting anxious when he didn’t get anywhere. “Find my opening with your fingers, then guide it in,” I suggested.

He sat back and bent forward, sliding his finger around until he found the opening. “Yeah, you got it, now move in.” I was getting impatient.

He held himself with one hand and guided it with the other. Once he had the head notched, he balanced himself and pushed.

“I’m inside you, aren’t I?”

“And you feel great,” I said. “Now do it, but go slow, I want to appreciate it,” and I squeezed him.

He took me literally and I barely felt him move. “More, deeper, I won’t break, please,” and he did.

“God, oh god that feels good, keep that up, it feels really good.” And he did. As he got going, I was gonna wrap my legs around him, but I thought it might scare him, so I just let him go.

He lasted much longer this time. He had this curious expression, like he was doing something he sort of knew about but wasn’t exactly sure how it worked. When I felt him getting close to cumming, I started humping at him. “Paint my pussy with your cum, c’mon Paulie, make me feel you!” and he sped up.

“Make me cum, make me cum, oh yeah,” I hissed. “You’re gonna make me cum! OH GOD YESSSS, I feel it — oh god! I’m cumming!” He was right behind me, and I felt his cock spasming.

He sagged onto me, gasping. I’d had a good time, didn’t cum, but he was getting the hang of it.

It was his third cum in less than three hours, so I didn’t want to push him too far.

“C’mon, let’s get dressed and get something to eat.” I hadn’t had a meal since lunch yesterday, and I’d lost that last night. I pulled on a pair of panties and a t-shirt, no bra, and jeans. He had his clothes from last night, including his Daffys.

We hit the cafeteria line for waffles, fruit, sausage, and juice. I wolfed everything down, minimal conversation. He wasn’t far behind, but every once in a while he’d put down his fork and look at me with an expression that said “I think I know what we just did, can we go do it again, soon, please?”

We were pretty much finished when I leaned across the table. His expression went from perplexed to panic when I cupped his chin and closed in on his ear:

“Paulie, Paulie, first I blew you Swallowed every single drop. Then I took your young virginity Feeling every white hot shot.

“You blasted seed with manly vigor Filled mouth and pussy with your cum. Made me want to go much further Hey — let’s go upstairs and do it again!”

We hustled to the elevator, shot out at my floor, and practically knocked the door down! He had my shirt off before I got the door locked, and I got him naked just as fast.

“Fuck me Paul! Show me what you’re made of! Make me cum again!”

I gasped when he entered me and I squeezed his cock with my muscles when he got balls deep. He froze and tried to move, but I had him. When he tried the second time, I let him go and he shot backwards.

“Too far, lover, gotta get the stroke right,” I giggled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t —”

“Shut up and put it back in.”

He got the motion and we had a real nice ride. I had him slow down and listen to my breathing, so he would know when I was getting close. “I’m not big on keeping track of how close I am to an orgasm, it just happens. You have to listen, watch me, but oh man keep that stroking going,” and I humped him.

I had a legitimate orgasm, not thunderous, but real.

“Now you, c’mon, fuck me! Cum in me!”

“I’m Escort esenyurt cumming, I’m cumming, oh Marth — ARRRRGH!” and he came, pumping furiously. He tried to hold himself up, but eventually he fell on me. I rolled us onto our sides pretty quickly.

At some point I squeezed his cock with my muscles and he squealed. “Oh no, please, please don’t, it hurts.”

When we’d recovered, it was time for him to do the housekeeping.

“Take the washcloth and go pee. Clean yourself off and come back and do me and the bed.” While he was away I found the towel and put it under me.

When he came back, he did a thorough job of my pussy. He stared at the pool of cum on the towel.


“US, lover. You put it in, it mixes with my juices, then everything drips back out. If we don’t do something about it, it soaks into the sheets and makes a mess of the bed. They call it the wet spot and it’s uncomfortable for whoever’s sleeping there. Same with you, by the way, which is why you should pee.”

Afterward, we lay there, playing with each other. Aside from kissing, and my breasts, though, he was still hesitant to touch me.

“Get acquainted with my body. I’m all yours. Touch me everywhere.”

He wandered, once in a while stopping to ask a question. He was particularly interested with my armpits. He wanted to know why there wasn’t any hair, like his.

“Because I shave them. Did it Thursday night, in fact.”

“Why do you do that? Guys don’t.”

“You want to be playing with a guy’s armpit right now?”

“No, no! I just mean —”

“Girls shave their pits because we like to be smooth all over. Hairy armpits turn guys off. Some girls shave their pussies for the same reason, or because they want to pretend they’re 12, they like to attract pervy old men.” He wandered around some more, but we needed a break.

“Okay now, shower time,” I commanded.

“That’s risky, isn’t it?”

“Do they shoot couples in your dorm who shower together?”

“No, but the RA says it’s a violation of university policy.”

“Okay, so I’ll be tossed out of school. C’mon, we just reek of sex.” I thought I’d give him a blowjob in the shower, but he had absolutely nothing left.

We wandered around the Olympics and got some food. I let him hold my hand and we watched a couple of the events. We saw you, but you looked like the night before hadn’t treated you well, so I was glad you didn’t spot us.

After things wound down, we went to his room so he could change his clothes. His roommate arrived just as we were starting to make out on his bed, so we had to go. We were heading down the hall when I stopped and leaned into his ear: “did you bring your toothbrush?” He blushed, stammered “no,” and ran back to get it.

Back in my room, I wanted to go some more, but he still couldn’t really get hard. He needed more time. We went for dinner at the union, walked around for an hour, then went back to my room and undressed each other. I changed the sheets and we cuddled.

“You wanna try again?” I asked.

“Am I allowed to admit that I’m sore?”

“Actually, so am I. But there are other things we can do.”


“I’m getting hot for you, put your finger in my pussy and feel how hot I am.”

He put his index finger in. “Use your middle finger, it’s longer. Not as long as your cock, nothing’s that big” — we giggled — “but come as close as you can. Yeah, that’s it. In and out, oh yeah that’s good. Swing it around, so nice. Now press the heel of your hand against my clit.”

“Your what?”

“Clit. You skip sex ed the day they talked about female anatomy?”

“Oh, clitoris, your clitoris.”

“Yeah. Feel it? Now bring your finger, play with it. Oh yes, now use your tongue.”

He froze. “I’ve never —”

“You can do it, I want you to do it. In fact, I want you to lick me up and down.”

“But the cum, there’s cum there.”

“You’ve already kissed me twice when I’ve had your cum in my mouth.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, sure. Remember when we kissed right after I blew you? And when I cleaned you off after the first time? Salty taste?”

“Oh yeah. Well, but a guy sucking cum, that’s gay.”

That pissed me off. “Paul, after I’ve blown you or fucked you, you owe it to me to show gratitude. Kissing me is the least you can do. Eating me is the same thing. After all, it’s your cum and my juices, no third party involved.

“Besides,” I smirked, “it’s organic.”

He went down, tentatively at first, but I kept encouraging him, and he got into it. He stuck his tongue inside and wiggled it without being asked! He did a really good job — gave me an orgasm, his first with his mouth.

He was pretty hard when I came down, but hell, it had been five hours since he’d last cum, and I was feeling frisky. I asked him if he liked playing cowboys and Indians when he was a kid.

“I know where you’re going with this.”

“Oh? Where?” I did my most shy and demure look.

“I’ve seen pornos. You’re gonna go cowgirl.”

“Busted. Wanna play?”

“I don’t know whether I can.”

I patted his pretty-hard cock. “Oh I think you can. C’mon, let’s go.”

I swung up onto his thighs. “Okay horsey, I’m gonna mount you.” I pulled his cock to my pussy and leaned back, then pushed it around a little bit and gradually worked him in.

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