Freshman Nymph Ch-7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sam walked the girls back to their dorm. He and Marjie chatted
cheerfully as they passed along the quiet darkened streets, but Becky was
still too full of love and life to do more than mutter an absent minded
reply to questions or comments directed to her. Her mouth had nothing to
say in the aftermath of what her cunt and Sam's cock had conversed about so
thrillingly.
Afterwards in the privacy of their room, she was still walking on air.
She undressed for bed, stripping off the clothes she had worn to the party
and, clad only in her own blonde hair, lay down upon her sheet. Her heart
was singing and her brain was so excited she knew she'd never get to sleep
tonight.
"Hey, k**," Marjie was saying at her ear. Becky turned startled eyes to
her roommate, looking like one suddenly awakened from a nocturnal ramble.
"Gods, Beck," Marjie went on. "You really did it tonight! I'm proud of
you, k**." Becky smiled shyly in response. Marjie slipped out of her dress
and panties and lay on her own bed, facing Becky.
"I feel beautiful and sexy and--I just feel like somebody set off
dynamite in my heart!" Becky sighed.
"You've got a right to," Marjie observed. "Are you still afraid of
guys? Did Sam make up for what that bastard did to you? What was his name,
anyway? I forget."
"Whose name?" Becky said.
"The guy who busted you."
"I don't remember," Becky replied dreamily. "I don't care."
"You gonna do it again?" Marjie smiled.
"I don't want to do anything else," Becky gushed. "I want to have a--a
cock inside me every day for the rest of my life. All day long, all night
long,"
"Got a nine o'clock class tomorrow?"
"No. Why?"
"Cause we're gonna take your ass over to the university clinic and get
you on the Pill. If you're planning on doing that much fucking, you'd
better make sure you don't get yourself pregnant, with a capital P."
* * * *
Becky's first week of school passed with little Incident. She had to
forego her initial wish for a fuck a day, principally because she didn't
really want that. It was just a spontaneous reaction to the beauty of her
first real screwing. Besides, she wanted to make sure that she didn't let
her grades slip. She'd been a A student in high school and she knew she
could do pretty well in college, so the rest of the week saw her in her
room every night studying. Sometimes she would be sitting at her desk
poring over a textbook, her panties round her pretty ankles, a finger
poking in and out of her cunt. And as she read her lessons, the tides of
lust would suddenly overwhelm her and she would go into orgasm, wet and
sopping. But each time that finger slid up and down her luscious vaginal
path she would think about the pleasures that would be hers when next a
man's cock penetrated her and filled her with hot viscous juices.
Friday evening she could no longer endure the celibacy she had imposed
upon herself. Becky hunted through the campus directory until she found
Sam's name, circled his phone number, and rang him up on the telephone in
the girls' room.
"Hi," she said when she had him. "This Is Becky."
"Hi, Becky," he replied, his voice sounding a little, rushed, a little
breathless.
"I just wondered," she went on, "if you would like to get together
tonight. I could come over, or you could come here--"
"Shit," he said. "I'm really sorry, Bock, but I can't. See, the old
lady and I are kinda--"
"The old lady?" she interrupted. "You mean your mom?"
"No," he explained. "My old lady. My girl." Her heart sank to the
soles of her feet. All week long she had fantasized that her burrowing
finger was his raging cock as it probed into her pussy. Now what was he
telling her?
"You met her at the party," he added. "Cathy. You know. The cute
chick that was smoking with us."
"Cathy?" she said hollowly. "I thought she was Bill's friend."
"No," he said jovially, "she's my girl. We've been together for a
couple of years, and once she graduates from high school she's gonna move
in with me. Oh," he said suddenly, "I know what got you confused. She
went upstairs with Bill. Right? Well, we don't have any chains on each
other, see. She wanted to do Bill that night, and I wanted to make it with
you. So we did."
"I see," Becky replied.
"Yeah," Sam rejoined. "Well, I gotta go, Beck. Cathy's upstairs in the
sack--you know. Say, why don't you and Marjie come over next week. Jerry
is gonna score on some really righteous hash, and we can all get stoned."
"Sure," Becky said flat-voiced. "We'll have to do that. See you." And
she hung up the phone.
She felt anger, disappointment, rage. It was as though she had been
betrayed. Sam had fucked her so very nicely Monday night, and all the
while he had been going steady with Cathy, that little bitch with the big
tits and the dirty mouth. And to make matters worse, Sam and Cathy weren't
oven true to each other! Becky wished she could eject his semen from her
cunt right now, drip it onto the floor, grind ft under her heel. She
turned round bitterly, fist striking at her thigh.
Plopping down upon her bed, she rested her chin on her palms. She had
so counted on fucking Sam again tonight. And he had rejected her, as if
she were a dried up syphilitic whore!
Well, the hell with him! she thought suddenly, and then she said ft
aloud. "The hell with him!" And fuck him, too. she thought. I don't need
him.
But the prospect of staying here alone in the room tonight was too
depressing even to contemplate. Margie had gone home this weekend, and she
felt even more deserted. At least the two girls could have talked, and
Marjie could have commiserated with Becky over her latest betrayal. Was
there something about her, she wondered suddenly, that caused men to want
to shit all over her? It certainly seemed to be the case.
She could always go sit in the lobby of the dorm and watch girls being
picked up by their dates. She might have had a date herself tonight, if
she hadn't been counting on another balling from Sam. A guy in her English
class had seemed rather interested in her, but she had steered the subject
away from "What are you doing Friday night?" because she had other plans.
Now, she thought bitterly, she didn't even know the gay's name and she
wouldn't see him again till Tuesday morning when class met again.
Becky crawled off the bed and walked into the hail. She bent her head
to get a drink at the water fountain, took an extra swallow because it was
at least something to do. Then she looked up and down the hail, saw
nobody, nothing. She grimaced wryly and began to pace. It wasn't as small
as the room but it was just as lonely. She paused by the first-floor
bulletin board, scanning the notices there.
Not much to see. She read an advertisement of the campus Catholic
student organization, informing the passer-by of mass time at the various
churches in town. She read an advertisement placed by a student who would
type papers and reports for a small fee. She read an advertisement
informing her that a free movie would be shown that evening in the dorm's
social room, located in the basement.
Becky bad never heard of the movie but she decided to go. At least she
would no longer be alone.
The social room had been converted into a small movie theater when she
arrived. Chairs were aligned in rows facing a portable screen, and a 16
millimeter projector sat on a table at the back of the room. There weren't
a great many people here--about half the perhaps 100 chairs were
occupied--but it was better than sitting in her room feeling defeat and
self-pity. Becky took a chair and waited for the show to begin.
It was a nice movie after all, she decided when the lights came up and
everyone started filing out. The soundtrack music was performed by Elton
John and the story dealt with a couple of teenagers in modern-day France
who decided to run away from their stuffy and restrictive home lives.
Settling down in a cottage in the south of France, they found themselves
falling In love, and in a comically tender sequence of events, conceived a
c***d between them and birthed it without assistance. And all the while
Elton John's voice and piano weaved a delicately romantic musical
background. Somewhere he sang a line that went more or less: "It's funny
how young lovers start as friends," and Becky found herself repeating those
words over and over in her mind. She wondered if she would ever find a
lover or a friend.
The ending was unusual, at least in her experience. The boy's father
had hired detectives to trace him, and the investigators had at last caught
his trail. You saw them at the vineyard where the boy worked, and they
were showing his picture round, and people were nodding, yes, yes, he works
here--he should be in to start the day very soon: and then a cut to the boy
and his girl--a c***dlike brunette, sweet-faced and, Becky noted,
larger-breasted than the blonde freshman. The two said goodbye as the boy
started on his way to work, and the girl held up the baby and waved its
tiny arm at its father; and then still images, close-ups of their faces,
appeared side by side on the screen and credit lines superimposed, telling
you who they were in real life, and the movie ended. Someone In the
audience went "Oh!" In disappointment.
But in the unfinished conclusion Becky found a solace of her own, a
relief from the feelings that had impelled her to come to the darkened room
where pictures flickered brightly colored on a screen. As the lights came
up she sat in her chair, legs crossed neatly, mentally reviewing the
various possibilities that might have transpired after the final
freeze-frame shots on screen.
There was a voice at her shoulder and she turned to see a boy, more or
less her own age she thought, standing beside her.
"What did you think of it?" he repeated.
Becky smiled. "It was pretty," she said. Her eyes scanned his frame,
studied his face. He looked nice enough in a boy's way, she decided.
The guy sat down in the chair beside her. "How did the ending grab
you?"
"It was different. Most movies seem compelled to tie everything
together with a pink ribbon so you won't feel cheated at the end, but this
one gave you the chance to be creative on your own. Don't you think so?"
He nodded pensively, as though he were weighing the intellectual balance
of her words. "Say," he added quickly, "aren't we in the same psychology
class? Dr. Richter's, Monday Wednesday Friday at 3:00?"
Becky shook her head. It was a nice try. She knew she could have him
if she wanted him, and although she didn't especially want him, she wanted
somebody. Let him squirm a little, she though bitchily. Make him think
he's struck out.
There was a long pause and then Becky uncrossed her legs, stretched a
little, and made as if to rise. The boy spoke quickly, not wanting to lose
her.
"How did you like the music? You know, the Elton John songs?"
"They were lovely," Becky smiled. "I really like him."
"I have the soundtrack album," be said excitedly. "You know, some of
the best songs on it, some of the rock tunes, you almost never got to hear
in the movie, like the one that was playing on Paul's stereo when his
grandmother and half-brother came to visit."
Becky smiled, and she knew she had him. "I'd love to hear the record,"
she sighed wistfully, her blue eyes limpid and sweetly shining.
He grinned as though he had scored big with her. "It's up in my room,"
ho said. "If you'd like to come up and listen to it...."
Becky rose and he stood with her. "That sounds nice," she said.
* * * *
He lived on the sixth floor. His name was Roy and he was a freshman
just like she was. And he was nervously excited as they rode the elevator
up to his floor. Becky doubted he'd ever had a girl in his room before.
She wondered if he'd ever scored a piece of cunt before either.
Roy unlocked his door and let her enter first. His roommate was away
for the weekend, just like Marjie, and Becky could see that his eyes were
gleaming in anticipation of what be thought would be the seduction of the
lovely blonde he'd picked up.
She sat down on the bed nearest the boy's stereo set while he hunted
through his albums and found the soundtrack LP she had come to hear. He
put it on the turntable and then pulled the chair away from his desk and
sat down. Becky stretched herself on the bed, kicking off her shoes,
letting her short denim skirt ride high as she lounged. Its hem slipped
and slipped, further and further up her creamy thighs, and she could see
Roy pretending not to notice the leg shot she was giving him. He wasn't
the most sexy or attractive guy she'd ever seen, but he seemed nice, if a
little overly earnest, and after her turndown from Sam, she wasn't
especially particular whose cock got into her tonight. Roy would do in a
pinch, she thought.
The music was captivating and she could close her eyes and see once more
the movie's young lovers, Paul and Michelle, walking along the sands of the
Mediterranean, chasing wild horses, making love in the surf. Elton John's
voice had a sexy romantic quality and she found herself breathing in time
with his songs.
Roy said something to her and she started. "What did you say?" she
asked. "I couldn't heat you over the record."
He put a hand out to turn down the volume of the stereo, but Becky's
palm settled quickly atop his wrist, sparking him with a contact nearly
electric. His eyes focused upon hers and he saw her patting the bed beside
her.
"Come sit here," she said. "That way we'll be able to hear each other
and still listen to the record." And she smiled, hypnotizing him with her
pearly teeth, and Roy came like a sleepwalker to her side.
He stretched out beside her on the narrow bed, unsure whether he ought
to let his body touch hers. As a consequence he found himself cramped and
aching in his effort to keep nonchalantly separated until it was time to
make his big move.
Becky's hand once more lay across his wrist, and he squirmed delightedly
at the warm touch of her. "Isn't that a nice melody," she said, gesturing
with her head at the playing record. He nodded. And then his cock sprang
into an erection that arched painfully against the constricting fabric of
his shorts and trousers, for Becky, her eyes closed, her lips humming along
softly with Elton John, had snuggled tight against him, her apple breasts
rubbing his chest, setting him afire through the shirt he wore. Her legs,
barer and barer as she wiggled beside him as the shorty skirt rose,
stretched like shapely marble columns.
Her face was close to his now, her hair, sweet and natural-smelling,
brushed his cheek, and her hands had begun to stroke his chest. God Damn!
Roy thought. I believe she wants to do it! But was he correct? he
wondered in sudden fright. Was she only responding to Elton John, or did
she want him, Roy, the guy she had just met downstairs? He'd never met a
girl this aggressive before, and for that reason he was terrified that he
was misinterpreting her actions. Suppose she only wanted to cuddle while
she listened to Elton John?
He touched her hair lightly, his finger caressing her ear, stroking the
tight flesh of her neck. She went "Ummm," and pushed her head closer to
his cheek. Roy was sure now that she was braless, for he could feel the
unfettered warmth of her tits, sense the poke of nipples against him. He
longed to strip away her corduroy blouse and find out for sure.
She folded her legs, heels coming to rest against her ass, and the skirt
rose even higher. Roy could see the black panties underneath. Tentatively
his hand came to rest on her bared and beautiful thigh. He touched her.
She didn't move to resist him. He began to stroke her bare leg, sliding
his palm between her knee and the high-risen hem of her skirt. Still no
resistance, no shrieks of "I'm a nice girl! Don't do anything like that to
me!" Dared he hope? Dared he dream?
He slid his hand beneath her hem, touched and fondled the small portion
of her thigh still shielded by her skirt. Still no protest! This was it,
he decided exultingly. She was gonna let him do it!
Roy slid further up Becky's thigh. His finger traced round the leg
opening of her panties, touched the protrusion of her bush and mons in the
soft nylon undergarment, then, acting with a will of their own, insinuated
themselves under her bikinis, actually touching the plump mound of her
pussy. And, far from making him stop, she was actually thrusting her cunt
against his exploring hand. She wanted him to feel her up!
"Becky," he said softly, his words muffled by her hair. She didn't
reply. He realized with a jolt that she was already unbuttoning his shirt
with one hand, unzipping his pants with the other!
Jesus, Becky thought, he sure took a long time to get down to action.
Well, better late than never.
* * * *
She was lying on her side, nude now, his hands fondling and caressing
her pink points. His cock stuck forward like a third arm, its tip poking
and pecking at her cunt hair. And now, maddeningly enough, he seemed to
have no intention of going ahead with the act! At least, not fast enough
to suit Becky. She wanted him to plunge inside her now, to fuck her till
she screamed for mercy, but all he wanted to do was play with her tits.
Damn, damn, double damn, hell! she thought angrily, remembering the
pleasure she could have known with Sam had he been available to her.
Becky's fingers suddenly wrapped round the stiff prong of Roy's dick and
guided it unerringly to the lips of her cunt. She threw a leg across his
hip, opening herself, then pressed forward, burying half his not overly
large prick inside her.
Now he gets the message, she reflected with a grin, as Roy suddenly
became aware that he was encunted within Becky and that he should take
advantage of that fact. He gave a startled grunt and started humping
against her, slashing his rod in and out. This time there was no pain
inside her cunt passage, she realized, and she was overjoyed to think that
perhaps she was finished with that uncomfortable reaction forever. Her
pussy was growing accustomed to the action of a male cock inside its smooth
walls.
Becky fucked herself against the boy, again and again, now fully aware
that no bells were going to go off in her head on this occasion. Roy's
screwing was nothing special, just as his cock was no great record-breaker.
For all the good he was doing her, he might as well be sliding his prick in
and out of his fist. Only the tingly feeling of his cock as it tickled her
pussy lips served to remind her of the time with Sam and how great a good
fuck could be when a girl had a guy who knew what to do with his rod.
The door behind them opened, and Beck and Roy both looked to see who was
entering. She could feel his prick start to diminish as fear scared off
his erection, and she clamped tightly on him with the muscles of her cunt,
afraid lest even this unsatisfactory pronging be denied her.
"Hey, I'm sorry," said the guy who had just opened the door and started
into the room. He looked incredulously at Roy and Becky, studied their
nude bodies--especially the lovely blonde girl's--then turned, redfaced.
"Uhhh," Roy grunted, his cock revivified by Becky's cuntal stimulation,
its length beginning to thrust in and out once more.
"Hi," said Becky, smiling at the newcomer even as she squeezed her pussy
round Roy's diddling dick, even as she swiveled her hips back and forth,
impaling herself time and again on the impaling penis. "You busy?" she
added.
"Uh, I--"
"Good," she commanded, "you can have a seat. I think I'm gonna need you
in about a minute."
There! She felt Roy's cock begin to jerk uncontrollably inside her,
preliminary to the ejaculation of his testicles' milky product. He
stiffened his body and jabbed her bard, two, three times, his penis
emptying itself in her wet depths. Roy's cock went soft almost immediately
and slithered out of Becky's pussy like a frightened snake scurrying down a
garden path.
She cursed softly, under her breath, and rolled round on the bed. The
new boy was standing close beside her, his back to the other bed. She
threw herself upon him madly, driving him backward, knocking him to the
mattress at his back, and she straddled her body over his crotch, rubbing
her cant against the hastily arising shaft of his manhood. She felt it
grow and stiffen inside his pants, and she knew that he was ready now. Two
guys in a row? she thought wickedly. Becky Ryan, you're nothing but a
horny little slut!
Becky lifted her dripping cunt from its perch atop the stunned boy and
applied her hands to getting down his pants. She jerked his trousers and
shorts down to his ankles, touched his peter with teasing fingers of fire,
and jerked her fist upon his shaft till he moaned aloud in ecstatic misery.
She glanced abruptly over her shoulder. Roy still lay on the bed where
she had left him. His cock hung limp between his legs, resting lightly on
the sack of bails below. Globules of his creamy come glistened on the
stalk. On his face was a look of bemused puzzlement as he stared
uncomprehendingly. He had just fucked the pretty blonde, he thought
uncertainly. Why in the shit was she getting ready to climb onto the guy
from down the ball? And what the hell was the guy from down the hail doing
here, anyway?
"Are you ready, Tiger?" Becky purred, hovering above his stiff cock.
The guy below muttered and whimpered. He hadn't expected anything like
this to happen to him--not tonight! But damned if he would try to stop it.
His prick was cocked for action and if this wacky girl only got it inside
her, she'd be cocked too!
Becky's cunt was already lubricated and moist. She braced her feet on
the bed, straddling his crotch, and lowered herself. His cock touched her
cunt, and her fingers seized it, directing it to the hole where its
services were needed. It slipped inside with absolutely no trouble,
pushing home on a greased track, and she began to piston herself up and
down on him. Each time she dropped, her cunt hairs brushed against his own
pubic bush, and the tickling was out of sight! She wiggled her ass as she
fucked herself on him, and his cock sc****d and slid round in the mouth of
her pussy.
Her foot slipped as she bounced up and down, and she started to fall
forward. As she did, his cock suddenly bumped the pulsing nub of her
clitty button, and Becky went into spasms. Her cunt snapped tight round
his cock like a glove, and she thrust herself forward, to keep constant
that exciting pressure on her love bump. The cock that shucked in and out
of her humping crotch was bathed in her sweet wet syrup, and each tap on
her clit increased her flow of honey juice.
She lay forward on him, her chest pressed against his belly, her mouth
sucking at his neck and chin, drifting upward to drink deep at his mouth,
her tongue licking his cheeks and lips and nose. Lying stretched forth as
she was, the rubbing of his stiff cock on her erogenous nubbin was
continuous, and Becky knew that she had to let herself go, to come as if
her life depended on it.
"I'm gonna shoot," he was hissing into her open mouth. "I'm gonna drop
my load." His arms tightened round her back and he held her to him. "Is it
okay if I come inside you?" he asked her, the strength of his grip
precluding any possibility that she might get away from him before he let
go of the shuddering load building up in his sack of nuts.
"Shoot, damn it!" she gasped. "Fill me up!" And she jerked her cunt
down tight, the labia squeezing him like a nutcracker, and he had to react
in the only way he could, his cock jerking and pumping. Becky shrilled her
joy as the first spraying gush of come flowed into her twat, and she humped
down heavy on him, twisting and writhing to get as much of him into her as
she could take. Again his cock erupted, and again, and again. The juice
that squirted out of his penis seemed to have no end, and she thought madly
that she could feel it spraying up her belly, up her throat, into her
mouth! She spread her cunt as she pressed down upon him, wanting to ingest
his balls, his legs, his whole body, anything at all to fill the aching
void of her climaxing pussy.
In the deepest sense, she knew even in the abandon of the moment, this
was even better than she had had with Sam, because this time she knew what
to expect. She could plan her actions, anticipate her reactions, and make
the experience of orgasm even more delightful for herself.
Becky held her vagina down bard, sucking into her churning guts all the
come flow the boy could spit out, her inner muscles milking the juice from
him, pumping it up her love tract, until he went dry and his exhausted cock
collapsed. When she could stimulate it hard no longer, she flopped off
him, his peter sliding from her with a small, funny "swiiittt" sound, and
she lay beside him on the bed.
"Jesus," he said in a choked mumble. He looked at the magnificent nude
form next to him, drank in the beauty of her classic face, the small
perfect orbs of her tits, the lovely, burnt gold satin of her cunt hair,
now dripping from the juices the two guys had shot off in her. He scanned
her long legs, sweat-drenched, tanned, shapely. This girl was a fucking
dreamboat! And he had just banged the hell out of her! He wondered who
she was, what she was doing here.
As the bliss of his ejaculation frenzy wore off him, he remembered that
he was sitting here nude from waist to ankles, and that Roy, the guy who
lived in this room, was sitting completely nude on the bed across from him.
Red-faced, he bent to pull up shorts and trousers, buckling his belt
hastily.
"How the hell did you get in on this?" Roy suddenly demanded. He made
no move to cover up his limp cock as he stared with a quizzical expression
at the couple on the other bed.
The intruder rubbed a hand across his brow, surprised to find that he,
too, was perspiring heavily. His mouth was dry, and words came to him with
difficulty. "I-uh--came to see if you had any Salems. The machine in the
hall is out of them."
Becky raised herself on one elbow and looked with kittenish glee at the
two guys. "Don't start any bitching on my account," she said. "After all,
my body is all my own, and I fuck anyone I want to fuck. You," she said to
Roy, "got your rocks off, but you left me up in the air. He got me over
the hump. I'm glad ho came along."
"What's your name?" asked the guy Becky had just screwed.
"Beck," said the girl. "What's yours?"
"Paul. Hey," he went on, bending his head close to hers, "can I see you
again sometime, maybe?"
Becky shrugged her shoulders. "Depends," she observed dryly.
"Cut this shit," said Roy with a frown. "I saw her first."
Becky got off the bed. "You don't own me," she told him. "Like I said,
my body is my property. I came up here tonight because I wanted to get
fucked, and I did. There's no telling where I'll go or who I'll go with
the next time I want to get fucked." She began to dress.
"Oh, come on, Beck," said Roy. "I didn't mean to get possessive. I'd
like to see you again, too."
"I live here in Bentley," she said nonchalantly. "You might see me
anytime. One never knows." Dressed, she headed for the door. "Oh," she
added, looking over her shoulder, "thank you for playing the Elton John
record for mc. It was very nice of you." And she was gone.
As the door closed behind her she heard Paul say to Roy, "Jesus, God,
what a fuck! That bitch has got an ass on her like nobody's business." And
it's nobody's business what I do with my ass, either, she thought with a
wry smile as she headed for the elevator.
Sam walked the girls back to their dorm. He and Marjie chatted
cheerfully as they passed along the quiet darkened streets, but Becky was
still too full of love and life to do more than mutter an absent minded
reply to questions or comments directed to her. Her mouth had nothing to
say in the aftermath of what her cunt and Sam's cock had conversed about so
thrillingly.
Afterwards in the privacy of their room, she was still walking on air.
She undressed for bed, stripping off the clothes she had worn to the party
and, clad only in her own blonde hair, lay down upon her sheet. Her heart
was singing and her brain was so excited she knew she'd never get to sleep
tonight.
"Hey, k**," Marjie was saying at her ear. Becky turned startled eyes to
her roommate, looking like one suddenly awakened from a nocturnal ramble.
"Gods, Beck," Marjie went on. "You really did it tonight! I'm proud of
you, k**." Becky smiled shyly in response. Marjie slipped out of her dress
and panties and lay on her own bed, facing Becky.
"I feel beautiful and sexy and--I just feel like somebody set off
dynamite in my heart!" Becky sighed.
"You've got a right to," Marjie observed. "Are you still afraid of
guys? Did Sam make up for what that bastard did to you? What was his name,
anyway? I forget."
"Whose name?" Becky said.
"The guy who busted you."
"I don't remember," Becky replied dreamily. "I don't care."
"You gonna do it again?" Marjie smiled.
"I don't want to do anything else," Becky gushed. "I want to have a--a
cock inside me every day for the rest of my life. All day long, all night
long,"
"Got a nine o'clock class tomorrow?"
"No. Why?"
"Cause we're gonna take your ass over to the university clinic and get
you on the Pill. If you're planning on doing that much fucking, you'd
better make sure you don't get yourself pregnant, with a capital P."
* * * *
Becky's first week of school passed with little Incident. She had to
forego her initial wish for a fuck a day, principally because she didn't
really want that. It was just a spontaneous reaction to the beauty of her
first real screwing. Besides, she wanted to make sure that she didn't let
her grades slip. She'd been a A student in high school and she knew she
could do pretty well in college, so the rest of the week saw her in her
room every night studying. Sometimes she would be sitting at her desk
poring over a textbook, her panties round her pretty ankles, a finger
poking in and out of her cunt. And as she read her lessons, the tides of
lust would suddenly overwhelm her and she would go into orgasm, wet and
sopping. But each time that finger slid up and down her luscious vaginal
path she would think about the pleasures that would be hers when next a
man's cock penetrated her and filled her with hot viscous juices.
Friday evening she could no longer endure the celibacy she had imposed
upon herself. Becky hunted through the campus directory until she found
Sam's name, circled his phone number, and rang him up on the telephone in
the girls' room.
"Hi," she said when she had him. "This Is Becky."
"Hi, Becky," he replied, his voice sounding a little, rushed, a little
breathless.
"I just wondered," she went on, "if you would like to get together
tonight. I could come over, or you could come here--"
"Shit," he said. "I'm really sorry, Bock, but I can't. See, the old
lady and I are kinda--"
"The old lady?" she interrupted. "You mean your mom?"
"No," he explained. "My old lady. My girl." Her heart sank to the
soles of her feet. All week long she had fantasized that her burrowing
finger was his raging cock as it probed into her pussy. Now what was he
telling her?
"You met her at the party," he added. "Cathy. You know. The cute
chick that was smoking with us."
"Cathy?" she said hollowly. "I thought she was Bill's friend."
"No," he said jovially, "she's my girl. We've been together for a
couple of years, and once she graduates from high school she's gonna move
in with me. Oh," he said suddenly, "I know what got you confused. She
went upstairs with Bill. Right? Well, we don't have any chains on each
other, see. She wanted to do Bill that night, and I wanted to make it with
you. So we did."
"I see," Becky replied.
"Yeah," Sam rejoined. "Well, I gotta go, Beck. Cathy's upstairs in the
sack--you know. Say, why don't you and Marjie come over next week. Jerry
is gonna score on some really righteous hash, and we can all get stoned."
"Sure," Becky said flat-voiced. "We'll have to do that. See you." And
she hung up the phone.
She felt anger, disappointment, rage. It was as though she had been
betrayed. Sam had fucked her so very nicely Monday night, and all the
while he had been going steady with Cathy, that little bitch with the big
tits and the dirty mouth. And to make matters worse, Sam and Cathy weren't
oven true to each other! Becky wished she could eject his semen from her
cunt right now, drip it onto the floor, grind ft under her heel. She
turned round bitterly, fist striking at her thigh.
Plopping down upon her bed, she rested her chin on her palms. She had
so counted on fucking Sam again tonight. And he had rejected her, as if
she were a dried up syphilitic whore!
Well, the hell with him! she thought suddenly, and then she said ft
aloud. "The hell with him!" And fuck him, too. she thought. I don't need
him.
But the prospect of staying here alone in the room tonight was too
depressing even to contemplate. Margie had gone home this weekend, and she
felt even more deserted. At least the two girls could have talked, and
Marjie could have commiserated with Becky over her latest betrayal. Was
there something about her, she wondered suddenly, that caused men to want
to shit all over her? It certainly seemed to be the case.
She could always go sit in the lobby of the dorm and watch girls being
picked up by their dates. She might have had a date herself tonight, if
she hadn't been counting on another balling from Sam. A guy in her English
class had seemed rather interested in her, but she had steered the subject
away from "What are you doing Friday night?" because she had other plans.
Now, she thought bitterly, she didn't even know the gay's name and she
wouldn't see him again till Tuesday morning when class met again.
Becky crawled off the bed and walked into the hail. She bent her head
to get a drink at the water fountain, took an extra swallow because it was
at least something to do. Then she looked up and down the hail, saw
nobody, nothing. She grimaced wryly and began to pace. It wasn't as small
as the room but it was just as lonely. She paused by the first-floor
bulletin board, scanning the notices there.
Not much to see. She read an advertisement of the campus Catholic
student organization, informing the passer-by of mass time at the various
churches in town. She read an advertisement placed by a student who would
type papers and reports for a small fee. She read an advertisement
informing her that a free movie would be shown that evening in the dorm's
social room, located in the basement.
Becky bad never heard of the movie but she decided to go. At least she
would no longer be alone.
The social room had been converted into a small movie theater when she
arrived. Chairs were aligned in rows facing a portable screen, and a 16
millimeter projector sat on a table at the back of the room. There weren't
a great many people here--about half the perhaps 100 chairs were
occupied--but it was better than sitting in her room feeling defeat and
self-pity. Becky took a chair and waited for the show to begin.
It was a nice movie after all, she decided when the lights came up and
everyone started filing out. The soundtrack music was performed by Elton
John and the story dealt with a couple of teenagers in modern-day France
who decided to run away from their stuffy and restrictive home lives.
Settling down in a cottage in the south of France, they found themselves
falling In love, and in a comically tender sequence of events, conceived a
c***d between them and birthed it without assistance. And all the while
Elton John's voice and piano weaved a delicately romantic musical
background. Somewhere he sang a line that went more or less: "It's funny
how young lovers start as friends," and Becky found herself repeating those
words over and over in her mind. She wondered if she would ever find a
lover or a friend.
The ending was unusual, at least in her experience. The boy's father
had hired detectives to trace him, and the investigators had at last caught
his trail. You saw them at the vineyard where the boy worked, and they
were showing his picture round, and people were nodding, yes, yes, he works
here--he should be in to start the day very soon: and then a cut to the boy
and his girl--a c***dlike brunette, sweet-faced and, Becky noted,
larger-breasted than the blonde freshman. The two said goodbye as the boy
started on his way to work, and the girl held up the baby and waved its
tiny arm at its father; and then still images, close-ups of their faces,
appeared side by side on the screen and credit lines superimposed, telling
you who they were in real life, and the movie ended. Someone In the
audience went "Oh!" In disappointment.
But in the unfinished conclusion Becky found a solace of her own, a
relief from the feelings that had impelled her to come to the darkened room
where pictures flickered brightly colored on a screen. As the lights came
up she sat in her chair, legs crossed neatly, mentally reviewing the
various possibilities that might have transpired after the final
freeze-frame shots on screen.
There was a voice at her shoulder and she turned to see a boy, more or
less her own age she thought, standing beside her.
"What did you think of it?" he repeated.
Becky smiled. "It was pretty," she said. Her eyes scanned his frame,
studied his face. He looked nice enough in a boy's way, she decided.
The guy sat down in the chair beside her. "How did the ending grab
you?"
"It was different. Most movies seem compelled to tie everything
together with a pink ribbon so you won't feel cheated at the end, but this
one gave you the chance to be creative on your own. Don't you think so?"
He nodded pensively, as though he were weighing the intellectual balance
of her words. "Say," he added quickly, "aren't we in the same psychology
class? Dr. Richter's, Monday Wednesday Friday at 3:00?"
Becky shook her head. It was a nice try. She knew she could have him
if she wanted him, and although she didn't especially want him, she wanted
somebody. Let him squirm a little, she though bitchily. Make him think
he's struck out.
There was a long pause and then Becky uncrossed her legs, stretched a
little, and made as if to rise. The boy spoke quickly, not wanting to lose
her.
"How did you like the music? You know, the Elton John songs?"
"They were lovely," Becky smiled. "I really like him."
"I have the soundtrack album," be said excitedly. "You know, some of
the best songs on it, some of the rock tunes, you almost never got to hear
in the movie, like the one that was playing on Paul's stereo when his
grandmother and half-brother came to visit."
Becky smiled, and she knew she had him. "I'd love to hear the record,"
she sighed wistfully, her blue eyes limpid and sweetly shining.
He grinned as though he had scored big with her. "It's up in my room,"
ho said. "If you'd like to come up and listen to it...."
Becky rose and he stood with her. "That sounds nice," she said.
* * * *
He lived on the sixth floor. His name was Roy and he was a freshman
just like she was. And he was nervously excited as they rode the elevator
up to his floor. Becky doubted he'd ever had a girl in his room before.
She wondered if he'd ever scored a piece of cunt before either.
Roy unlocked his door and let her enter first. His roommate was away
for the weekend, just like Marjie, and Becky could see that his eyes were
gleaming in anticipation of what be thought would be the seduction of the
lovely blonde he'd picked up.
She sat down on the bed nearest the boy's stereo set while he hunted
through his albums and found the soundtrack LP she had come to hear. He
put it on the turntable and then pulled the chair away from his desk and
sat down. Becky stretched herself on the bed, kicking off her shoes,
letting her short denim skirt ride high as she lounged. Its hem slipped
and slipped, further and further up her creamy thighs, and she could see
Roy pretending not to notice the leg shot she was giving him. He wasn't
the most sexy or attractive guy she'd ever seen, but he seemed nice, if a
little overly earnest, and after her turndown from Sam, she wasn't
especially particular whose cock got into her tonight. Roy would do in a
pinch, she thought.
The music was captivating and she could close her eyes and see once more
the movie's young lovers, Paul and Michelle, walking along the sands of the
Mediterranean, chasing wild horses, making love in the surf. Elton John's
voice had a sexy romantic quality and she found herself breathing in time
with his songs.
Roy said something to her and she started. "What did you say?" she
asked. "I couldn't heat you over the record."
He put a hand out to turn down the volume of the stereo, but Becky's
palm settled quickly atop his wrist, sparking him with a contact nearly
electric. His eyes focused upon hers and he saw her patting the bed beside
her.
"Come sit here," she said. "That way we'll be able to hear each other
and still listen to the record." And she smiled, hypnotizing him with her
pearly teeth, and Roy came like a sleepwalker to her side.
He stretched out beside her on the narrow bed, unsure whether he ought
to let his body touch hers. As a consequence he found himself cramped and
aching in his effort to keep nonchalantly separated until it was time to
make his big move.
Becky's hand once more lay across his wrist, and he squirmed delightedly
at the warm touch of her. "Isn't that a nice melody," she said, gesturing
with her head at the playing record. He nodded. And then his cock sprang
into an erection that arched painfully against the constricting fabric of
his shorts and trousers, for Becky, her eyes closed, her lips humming along
softly with Elton John, had snuggled tight against him, her apple breasts
rubbing his chest, setting him afire through the shirt he wore. Her legs,
barer and barer as she wiggled beside him as the shorty skirt rose,
stretched like shapely marble columns.
Her face was close to his now, her hair, sweet and natural-smelling,
brushed his cheek, and her hands had begun to stroke his chest. God Damn!
Roy thought. I believe she wants to do it! But was he correct? he
wondered in sudden fright. Was she only responding to Elton John, or did
she want him, Roy, the guy she had just met downstairs? He'd never met a
girl this aggressive before, and for that reason he was terrified that he
was misinterpreting her actions. Suppose she only wanted to cuddle while
she listened to Elton John?
He touched her hair lightly, his finger caressing her ear, stroking the
tight flesh of her neck. She went "Ummm," and pushed her head closer to
his cheek. Roy was sure now that she was braless, for he could feel the
unfettered warmth of her tits, sense the poke of nipples against him. He
longed to strip away her corduroy blouse and find out for sure.
She folded her legs, heels coming to rest against her ass, and the skirt
rose even higher. Roy could see the black panties underneath. Tentatively
his hand came to rest on her bared and beautiful thigh. He touched her.
She didn't move to resist him. He began to stroke her bare leg, sliding
his palm between her knee and the high-risen hem of her skirt. Still no
resistance, no shrieks of "I'm a nice girl! Don't do anything like that to
me!" Dared he hope? Dared he dream?
He slid his hand beneath her hem, touched and fondled the small portion
of her thigh still shielded by her skirt. Still no protest! This was it,
he decided exultingly. She was gonna let him do it!
Roy slid further up Becky's thigh. His finger traced round the leg
opening of her panties, touched the protrusion of her bush and mons in the
soft nylon undergarment, then, acting with a will of their own, insinuated
themselves under her bikinis, actually touching the plump mound of her
pussy. And, far from making him stop, she was actually thrusting her cunt
against his exploring hand. She wanted him to feel her up!
"Becky," he said softly, his words muffled by her hair. She didn't
reply. He realized with a jolt that she was already unbuttoning his shirt
with one hand, unzipping his pants with the other!
Jesus, Becky thought, he sure took a long time to get down to action.
Well, better late than never.
* * * *
She was lying on her side, nude now, his hands fondling and caressing
her pink points. His cock stuck forward like a third arm, its tip poking
and pecking at her cunt hair. And now, maddeningly enough, he seemed to
have no intention of going ahead with the act! At least, not fast enough
to suit Becky. She wanted him to plunge inside her now, to fuck her till
she screamed for mercy, but all he wanted to do was play with her tits.
Damn, damn, double damn, hell! she thought angrily, remembering the
pleasure she could have known with Sam had he been available to her.
Becky's fingers suddenly wrapped round the stiff prong of Roy's dick and
guided it unerringly to the lips of her cunt. She threw a leg across his
hip, opening herself, then pressed forward, burying half his not overly
large prick inside her.
Now he gets the message, she reflected with a grin, as Roy suddenly
became aware that he was encunted within Becky and that he should take
advantage of that fact. He gave a startled grunt and started humping
against her, slashing his rod in and out. This time there was no pain
inside her cunt passage, she realized, and she was overjoyed to think that
perhaps she was finished with that uncomfortable reaction forever. Her
pussy was growing accustomed to the action of a male cock inside its smooth
walls.
Becky fucked herself against the boy, again and again, now fully aware
that no bells were going to go off in her head on this occasion. Roy's
screwing was nothing special, just as his cock was no great record-breaker.
For all the good he was doing her, he might as well be sliding his prick in
and out of his fist. Only the tingly feeling of his cock as it tickled her
pussy lips served to remind her of the time with Sam and how great a good
fuck could be when a girl had a guy who knew what to do with his rod.
The door behind them opened, and Beck and Roy both looked to see who was
entering. She could feel his prick start to diminish as fear scared off
his erection, and she clamped tightly on him with the muscles of her cunt,
afraid lest even this unsatisfactory pronging be denied her.
"Hey, I'm sorry," said the guy who had just opened the door and started
into the room. He looked incredulously at Roy and Becky, studied their
nude bodies--especially the lovely blonde girl's--then turned, redfaced.
"Uhhh," Roy grunted, his cock revivified by Becky's cuntal stimulation,
its length beginning to thrust in and out once more.
"Hi," said Becky, smiling at the newcomer even as she squeezed her pussy
round Roy's diddling dick, even as she swiveled her hips back and forth,
impaling herself time and again on the impaling penis. "You busy?" she
added.
"Uh, I--"
"Good," she commanded, "you can have a seat. I think I'm gonna need you
in about a minute."
There! She felt Roy's cock begin to jerk uncontrollably inside her,
preliminary to the ejaculation of his testicles' milky product. He
stiffened his body and jabbed her bard, two, three times, his penis
emptying itself in her wet depths. Roy's cock went soft almost immediately
and slithered out of Becky's pussy like a frightened snake scurrying down a
garden path.
She cursed softly, under her breath, and rolled round on the bed. The
new boy was standing close beside her, his back to the other bed. She
threw herself upon him madly, driving him backward, knocking him to the
mattress at his back, and she straddled her body over his crotch, rubbing
her cant against the hastily arising shaft of his manhood. She felt it
grow and stiffen inside his pants, and she knew that he was ready now. Two
guys in a row? she thought wickedly. Becky Ryan, you're nothing but a
horny little slut!
Becky lifted her dripping cunt from its perch atop the stunned boy and
applied her hands to getting down his pants. She jerked his trousers and
shorts down to his ankles, touched his peter with teasing fingers of fire,
and jerked her fist upon his shaft till he moaned aloud in ecstatic misery.
She glanced abruptly over her shoulder. Roy still lay on the bed where
she had left him. His cock hung limp between his legs, resting lightly on
the sack of bails below. Globules of his creamy come glistened on the
stalk. On his face was a look of bemused puzzlement as he stared
uncomprehendingly. He had just fucked the pretty blonde, he thought
uncertainly. Why in the shit was she getting ready to climb onto the guy
from down the ball? And what the hell was the guy from down the hail doing
here, anyway?
"Are you ready, Tiger?" Becky purred, hovering above his stiff cock.
The guy below muttered and whimpered. He hadn't expected anything like
this to happen to him--not tonight! But damned if he would try to stop it.
His prick was cocked for action and if this wacky girl only got it inside
her, she'd be cocked too!
Becky's cunt was already lubricated and moist. She braced her feet on
the bed, straddling his crotch, and lowered herself. His cock touched her
cunt, and her fingers seized it, directing it to the hole where its
services were needed. It slipped inside with absolutely no trouble,
pushing home on a greased track, and she began to piston herself up and
down on him. Each time she dropped, her cunt hairs brushed against his own
pubic bush, and the tickling was out of sight! She wiggled her ass as she
fucked herself on him, and his cock sc****d and slid round in the mouth of
her pussy.
Her foot slipped as she bounced up and down, and she started to fall
forward. As she did, his cock suddenly bumped the pulsing nub of her
clitty button, and Becky went into spasms. Her cunt snapped tight round
his cock like a glove, and she thrust herself forward, to keep constant
that exciting pressure on her love bump. The cock that shucked in and out
of her humping crotch was bathed in her sweet wet syrup, and each tap on
her clit increased her flow of honey juice.
She lay forward on him, her chest pressed against his belly, her mouth
sucking at his neck and chin, drifting upward to drink deep at his mouth,
her tongue licking his cheeks and lips and nose. Lying stretched forth as
she was, the rubbing of his stiff cock on her erogenous nubbin was
continuous, and Becky knew that she had to let herself go, to come as if
her life depended on it.
"I'm gonna shoot," he was hissing into her open mouth. "I'm gonna drop
my load." His arms tightened round her back and he held her to him. "Is it
okay if I come inside you?" he asked her, the strength of his grip
precluding any possibility that she might get away from him before he let
go of the shuddering load building up in his sack of nuts.
"Shoot, damn it!" she gasped. "Fill me up!" And she jerked her cunt
down tight, the labia squeezing him like a nutcracker, and he had to react
in the only way he could, his cock jerking and pumping. Becky shrilled her
joy as the first spraying gush of come flowed into her twat, and she humped
down heavy on him, twisting and writhing to get as much of him into her as
she could take. Again his cock erupted, and again, and again. The juice
that squirted out of his penis seemed to have no end, and she thought madly
that she could feel it spraying up her belly, up her throat, into her
mouth! She spread her cunt as she pressed down upon him, wanting to ingest
his balls, his legs, his whole body, anything at all to fill the aching
void of her climaxing pussy.
In the deepest sense, she knew even in the abandon of the moment, this
was even better than she had had with Sam, because this time she knew what
to expect. She could plan her actions, anticipate her reactions, and make
the experience of orgasm even more delightful for herself.
Becky held her vagina down bard, sucking into her churning guts all the
come flow the boy could spit out, her inner muscles milking the juice from
him, pumping it up her love tract, until he went dry and his exhausted cock
collapsed. When she could stimulate it hard no longer, she flopped off
him, his peter sliding from her with a small, funny "swiiittt" sound, and
she lay beside him on the bed.
"Jesus," he said in a choked mumble. He looked at the magnificent nude
form next to him, drank in the beauty of her classic face, the small
perfect orbs of her tits, the lovely, burnt gold satin of her cunt hair,
now dripping from the juices the two guys had shot off in her. He scanned
her long legs, sweat-drenched, tanned, shapely. This girl was a fucking
dreamboat! And he had just banged the hell out of her! He wondered who
she was, what she was doing here.
As the bliss of his ejaculation frenzy wore off him, he remembered that
he was sitting here nude from waist to ankles, and that Roy, the guy who
lived in this room, was sitting completely nude on the bed across from him.
Red-faced, he bent to pull up shorts and trousers, buckling his belt
hastily.
"How the hell did you get in on this?" Roy suddenly demanded. He made
no move to cover up his limp cock as he stared with a quizzical expression
at the couple on the other bed.
The intruder rubbed a hand across his brow, surprised to find that he,
too, was perspiring heavily. His mouth was dry, and words came to him with
difficulty. "I-uh--came to see if you had any Salems. The machine in the
hall is out of them."
Becky raised herself on one elbow and looked with kittenish glee at the
two guys. "Don't start any bitching on my account," she said. "After all,
my body is all my own, and I fuck anyone I want to fuck. You," she said to
Roy, "got your rocks off, but you left me up in the air. He got me over
the hump. I'm glad ho came along."
"What's your name?" asked the guy Becky had just screwed.
"Beck," said the girl. "What's yours?"
"Paul. Hey," he went on, bending his head close to hers, "can I see you
again sometime, maybe?"
Becky shrugged her shoulders. "Depends," she observed dryly.
"Cut this shit," said Roy with a frown. "I saw her first."
Becky got off the bed. "You don't own me," she told him. "Like I said,
my body is my property. I came up here tonight because I wanted to get
fucked, and I did. There's no telling where I'll go or who I'll go with
the next time I want to get fucked." She began to dress.
"Oh, come on, Beck," said Roy. "I didn't mean to get possessive. I'd
like to see you again, too."
"I live here in Bentley," she said nonchalantly. "You might see me
anytime. One never knows." Dressed, she headed for the door. "Oh," she
added, looking over her shoulder, "thank you for playing the Elton John
record for mc. It was very nice of you." And she was gone.
As the door closed behind her she heard Paul say to Roy, "Jesus, God,
what a fuck! That bitch has got an ass on her like nobody's business." And
it's nobody's business what I do with my ass, either, she thought with a
wry smile as she headed for the elevator.
2 years ago
