Freshman Nymph CH-8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Becky slept in Saturday morning. The very pleasant come she had enjoyed
up in Roy's room left her with no need to finger-fuck herself to sleep, and
the dreams that visited her body were sweetly erotic ones, filled with
balling on velvety clouds and in fragrant fields of honey and clover.
She knew now that she would have no trouble in finding the sex partners
she wanted. Picking up Roy had been easy as eating a piece of cake, and
this was her first try. What might she not do when she expanded her field
of operations to include other campus locations? Of course, having a coed
dorm to live in made things much easier. You could find a guy in the
social room, fuck him in his room, and go back to your own, all without
having to leave the building. Winters here in Henderson were cold, and
finding cock in Bentley Hall was a much more attractive idea than having to
comb the campus in the snow or below-zero temperatures.
Becky slept through breakfast, but by noon was hungry, so, deliberately
frowzy-looking in sloppy jeans and sweatshirt, her hair in curlers, she
went down to the cafeteria in the basement to grab a meal. Afterwards, in
her room, she was looking over her English assignment when the phone rang.
"Hello," she said in a sultry voice she had decided to experiment with.
"Hello," came a male voice in reply. "Is this the Becky I met last
night in Roy's room?"
"It might be," she cooed. "Who's this, please?"
"My name's Paul."
"Hi, Paul," she said.
"Jeez, I'm glad I found you. All I knew was your first name, and I've
been going through the student directory calling every Becky in Bentley
Hall. You're the eighth one I've tried, by the way." They laughed
together, and he went on, "Are you busy this afternoon?"
"No," she said. "Did you have something in mind?"
"Kind of," he admitted. "Can you come up to my room? It's 612. And
soon?"
"I think so," she replied. "Let me put on something sexy."
"Yeah," he leered into the phone. "You just do that."
* * * *
Becky dressed in a hurry, jerking the curlers out of her hair. She
wanted to look nice, because Paul had been a pretty good piece of cock.
Not as good as Sam in every respect, true, but he could learn. And she
would have a lot of fun learning the art of fucking right along with him,
for as long as they were content to ball together.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Nice, Ryan, she thought gaily.
She was wearing a simple blouse, with a wide elastic neckline, that she
caught round the curves of her shoulders to expose the fact that she had no
bra strap to interfere with a sweet view. Her hips were covered by a short
skirt, one of the ones she had brought from home; after the party at Sam
and Terry's, she and Marjie had gone through the old Becky's rather demure
wardrobe, raising hemlines wherever possible. As a consequence, the skirt
rode high on her thighs, hung just below the delightful curve of her ass.
She whirled round before the looking glass, noting with approval the way
the skirt whirled and swayed when she moved. Legs flashed and thighs
twinkled. She was ready. She only hoped Paul was too.
* * * *
Becky knocked on the door of 612 and it opened to her. Paul stood
there, a cigarette clenched between his lips. "Wow," he said, taking in
the artfully enhanced curves of her sweet body. "You look good enough to
eat!"
"I certainly hope so," she smiled in reply, closing the door behind her.
Becky approached him on cat feet, her outstretched arms wrapping round
his back. She pressed her head close to his, searching for his mouth with
her own. He kissed her back, then pulled his head away.
She shrugged and flopped herself down on one of the two beds. "Any time
you want to start," she smiled.
Paul lit another cigarette. "Ah, well, uh, Becky--it's like this, see.
I, uh, wanted you to come up, because I had a good time last night, see,
and I remembered that-I remembered it real well," he emphasized, "and, bin,
well, I thought--"
"Get to it," she said, "cause I wanta get to it!"
"Okay," he protested, "okay. I wanted you to come up, see, because,
well, uh--" he searched for the words. "See, I have this book report due
in Political Science next week, and I don't write too well. I don't talk
too well either, but you probably know that already. Anyway, my roomie is
a real egg-head. You know, with glasses and an I.Q. and everything, one
of those kind. So he's gonna write the report for me, and I thought maybe,
well, that instead of paying him for it, maybe I could talk you into--I
mean, maybe you wouldn't mind--"
Becky frowned. "You want me to fuck your roommate so he'll do your
homework for you. Is that right? Am I getting the drift of what you're
drifting around?"
Paul nodded. "I hope you're not mad at me for asking," he was quick to
add, "but I thought--"
"You thought that since I'd fucked you and what's his name last night
that I wouldn't mind taking on your roomie too."
Paul stared at her, hope fading in his eyes. He knew she was gonna tell
him to stick his roomie and his book report up his ass, and shove his cock
in with them. He knew that's what she was gonna say.
"Oh, all right," Becky shrugged. "I guess it won't hurt."
Paul sighed in relief. Now he wouldn't have to give Archie the five
dollars he'd been asking for writing the book report. He wondered if he
might not even be able to get five dollars and the book report out of
Archie Instead. Hmm? It was worth a try, he decided.
"What's he like?" Becky asked.
"You know," Paul replied. "An egghead. That type."
Becky didn't know what an egghead looked like. None of the boys in
Fayetteville had been intellectually inclined. Most of them, she realized
now, were too dumb to pour piss out of a boot with directions printed on
the heel. "When do I make him?" she asked.
"Huh?" Paul asked, stirred from his reverie. "Oh, he'll be back here in
a few minutes. He's at the library, but he said he'd be back by two
o'clock."
"Are you gonna stay and watch?" she asked acidly.
Paul missed the sarcasm in her voice. "Oh, no," he smiled, "I have a
date this afternoon to play tennis. I won't be around."
She nodded, disdain curling her mouth. Becky Ryan, she told herself
bitterly, you really are a slut. Not because you made it with two guys in
a row without a break, but because now, like a dumb, damned whore, you're
letting yourself get set up to fuck away a conniving bastard's debts. She
was still musing over this new twist in her recently begun sexual life when
Paul bid her goodbye and went out the door.
* * * *
Becky was sitting on the bed looking at a book when the doorknob turned.
She looked up with a smile as a boy entered.
"Hi," she said, her face bright but her heart sinking. Oh, God! she
thought suddenly. He's a dwarf! The guy wasn't really a dwarf, but he
stood at least five inches shorter than Becky. She didn't have to measure
him with a yardstick to know that if they stood face to face, his eyes
would be on a level with her collarbone.
"Who are you?" asked the boy, his eyes bugging. He looked at Becky's
fetching smile, looked at her bared shoulders, stared Lustfully at her even
more fetching legs. And then his eyes nearly popped out of his head when
he saw the long-limbed girl stretch herself and slide like a lazy tigress
from the soft cushioning mat of the bed on which she had been lying. He
saw the muscles ripple in her legs, saw the bareness of her thighs, stared
into the tantalizing partial revelation of her crotch as she got to her
feet. And then she was coming toward him, her body a lithe tribute to
human anatomy.
"I'm Becky," she said, touching one long finger to the boy's chest. He
jerked at her contact, and the books in his arm fell to the floor. "Did I
startle you?" she asked, suddenly very concerned. And as he knelt to pick
up the items he had dropped, she knelt with him, her knees up and her skirt
risen high to reveal the pantied bulge of her crotch.
Archie didn't want to get up, because he knew that she would see his
bard-on jutting inside his pants. That had hit him as soon as he saw the
casual exposure of her undies, and it embarrassed him. He knew she must be
waiting for Paul, and he hated Paul suddenly for being able to get girls
like this.
"Paul isn't here," he said breathlessly, still kneeling. Becky had
arisen now and he looked at her, his eyes filled mostly with the vision of
her long bare legs, his brain seeking to will its way to X-ray eyesight
that he might look beneath the fabric of her skirt, penetrate the nylon of
the panties he had already seen. He wished she would go, because be knew
his hard-on would never diminish so long as she was here, but he didn't
want her to go, for the sensation of being here alone with her, able to
fantasize anything he wanted regarding her and that lovely body--this was
something he wanted to keep always.
"I know Paul isn't here," she said with that Madonna smile, and her
fingers touched his hair ever so lightly. "I wanted to see you."
Now Archie knew be was dreaming. He'd died and gone to hell. That was
it! A car had bit him on the way back from the library and he was in hell
and Satan was tempting him with this vision. The moment he tried to put a
hand on the form that was haunting him right now, it would vanish and he
would be in the midst of broiling, scorching fires with imps tormenting his
reddened body with the points of their pitchforks. Oh, he knew it now!
Becky's hand slipped down his cheek, stroking his flesh. Could even the
devil make a vision so real? Archie was frozen fast with fear. His cock
jutted out angrily but his muscles would not propel him even if he dared
move.
"Are you real?" Archie croaked, his vocal chords drying up as he spoke,
his throat tightening so that he couldn't even swallow. He thought of all
the times he had masturbated himself to a fury, spilling his semen onto his
fingers, onto his sheet, into tissues, handkerchiefs, wherever be could
squirt it, while he fantasized the image of a beautiful woman who wanted
him, only him--who touched him and caressed him and made love to him with
her voice until his cock was stiff and aching with the release it desired
and she took his desire in hand and relieved him of it and left him
shrieking and screaming his ecstasy to the whole world around.
"Of course I'm real, Archie," she said, and he knew it must be a dream,
for how else would she know his name? She was so tall, much taller than
he, and so beautiful in her pristine, classic way. As he knelt beneath her
he could see the little breasts banging in the cloth of her blouse, could
see the pricking points of her nipples showing in the front of her garment,
could smell, for Christ's sake, the womanly aroma of her. He wanted her
and he knew he could never have her, for she was the kind of girl a guy
like him never got. He wished he could cry his heart out, cuddling his
head on those apples growing from her chest, hug his face in her legs and
spill tears onto the slim gorgeous columns that rose in graceful curves
from ankles to ass.
And her hands were reaching for his now, and his palms felt the touch of
hers, and she was clasping him. She tugged, and he had no will to resist.
He rose, oblivious now to the inescapable bulge in his pants, and she moved
her body against his. He tried to pull his crotch back, so she wouldn't
notice that he was aroused, but there was no stopping her as she ground her
pelvis against his, feeling with her loins every inch of what he had inside
his trousers.
She dipped her head then, her tongue flicking out like a snake's, and
her mouth approached his, and he bent his head upward to meet hers, for she
was so much taller, and he knew then his first kiss from a sensual woman's
lips. Her tongue easily penetrated the skimpy barrier of his teeth and
delved inside his mouth, deliciously wet, erotically exciting, and he could
feel the spittle of her mouth. He threw his arms round her and clasped his
body against hers, ramming the erect presence of his covered prick into her
consciousness.
Becky smiled as she felt Archie's arousal. She tongued him again and
again, making his prick grow harder and harder till she was sure it
wouldn't break if hit by a sledgehammer. Her lips soft against his, she
withdrew her tongue from his mouth and cooed against him, "Would you like
to fuck me now, Archie? Would you like to take that stiff cock of yours
and jam it into Becky's pretty cunny hole?" He gurgled soporifically, and
she went "Hmmm?" into his open mouth, making him tingle from the humming.
"Oh, God, yes," he whispered, "please let me put my cock in you. I
promise I'll do it right. I'll fuck you real good if you'll let me.
Please, Becky. I'll eat your pussy. I'll do anything you want me to."
Now, Becky thought. Now she would throw herself out of his grasp and
laugh her ass off at him and his stupid prick. Tell him that his fucking
roommate had tried to get her to whore herself for him, tried to talk her
into fucking his slob of a roomie just to save himself a little cash. And
then she would laugh and giggle and laugh and chortle and laugh and whinny
like a horse as she watched the tentlike projection of his pants front
collapse from shame. As for Paul, she'd castrate him some other way.
Maybe Marjie would have an idea.
"Oh, God," Archie went on, his breath hot and faintly sweet in her face.
"I've never done it before but I know I can do it right, if you'll just let
me. Please, Becky, please!" His glasses were steaming up from the heat of
her presence and his eyes were pleading like a puppy's. Becky felt sorry
for him all of a sudden, and she wondered if she were callous enough to go
through with the plan she had devised. And what had he said--he'd never
done it before?
"Archie," she whispered breathily, "are you really a cherry?" Her arm
squeezed round his back, slipped down to fondle the cheeks of his slim male
ass. His eyes turned away from hers. "Come on," she teased him, "you can
tell Aunty Becky if you are." He nodded quickly, almost as if he wanted to
do it without her seeing.
Well! she thought This was kinda different after all. If Archie had
been a pussy-hound like Paul apparently was, she would have been able to
scotch the snake of his loins without a qualm of anxiety, but to do that
sort of thing to a boy evidently aching to lose his cherry--that would be
as cruel an assault as Ted had perpetrated upon her. She suddenly felt a
motherly tenderness, a sympathy for this poor virgin boy. She wanted to
help him now, not hurt him.
Becky slipped out of Archie's arms and made her way to the bed where she
sat down. Her finger motioned for him to come to her, and he came, as
though hypnotized. She laid an arm round his shoulders.
"You've really never had a girl before?" she asked. He shook his head.
"How do you get relief, then? I mean, don't boys have urges?" He blushed
red and she knew. "I'll bet you play with yourself, don't you?" She
touched the stiff rod in his pants. "You take this out and you slide your
hand up and down the shaft until you squirt out all that man goo, don't
you?" He blushed again, and a giggle started to come from his lips.
Shocked that he could be doing such a silly thing he turned his head away
from her, but she caught his chin and pulled his face to hers again.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Archie," she said, "but you have to grow
out of that sort of thing. Would you believe that I used to do it to
myself too?" His eyes bugged and she nodded. "So I know all about it. And
now," she went on, "you and I will find a better way for you to get rid of
all that excess juice that keeps building up down there. Okay?"
Archie was out of it by now. The shock of what had been happening to
him ever since he stepped into the same old room he had been coming to
since the start of school was too much for him. His mouth could only
gurgle, and flashes of tumultuous pleasure shot to his brain as Becky
fondled the protrusion in his pants.
"Well," Becky told him, giving the poking pole a friendly tap, "let's do
it, then." She got up off the bed and released the waistband of her skirt.
It fell to the floor and she stepped out of it. Archie's eyes focused upon
her tiny panties, dreaming of what lay beneath them. He hoped her pubic
hair was naturally blonde. That would be pretty.
Becky put her clothing on Archie's desk as she discarded each item of
dress, but as her hand deposited the blouse she fumbled and knocked a pile
of notebooks and her skirt to the floor. "Damn," she said softly, kneeling
to retrieve the spilled articles, and then she saw, stuffed in between two
of Archie's notebooks, a magazine. It was a slick paper job, about
standard magazine size, but the cover illustration was like nothing she had
ever seen before.
In a full-color close-up a beautiful girl was sucking hungrily on the
shaft of an incredibly huge, stiff cock. The girl's cheeks were drawn in
as she mouthed away at the organ and a look of rapture was on her face.
Becky looked at the title. DANISH ORGASM.
"What's this?" she asked, turning to Archie.
"Oh," he said in a choked voice, blushing still redder.
Becky flipped the magazine's pages. Every page was filled with
photographs in color or monochrome of men and women performing various
sexual activities. She had never seen pictures like this before, and she
looked with fascination. Her eyes drifted from the page to the poleaxed
Archie.
"Is this yours?" she asked. He nodded, shamefaced. "And do you look at
this while you play with your peter?" He nodded once more. "I'll bet you
imagine that you're the guy in the pictures, too, don't you?" Again he
nodded. "Well."
Becky arose from the floor, leaving her clothes and the other things
where they had fallen. She came to him, nude, the book in her hand.
Archie sat silently, embarrassed that she had discovered his secret
shame. Even Paul didn't know about his dirty magazine.
"Ooh," Becky said with a grimace as she stared at a full-color shot of a
girl getting fucked in the ass by a man with an enormous prick. "That's
terrible!" She looked at Archie. "You better get your things off, Tiger.
You can't fuck me if you're dressed."
Archie jumped off the bed and sped lightning fingers to the fastenings
of his clothes. Becky was still lying on the bed, her eyes taking in the
various sexual practices illustrated for her benefit. She looked up and
saw Archie standing beside the bed, his cock jutting out. My, she thought.
He certainly has a nice size! If he can't get girls, it's his own damned
fault!
She had just found the center story of the issue. It featured a guy and
a slim, lovely blonde girl. God, she thought, if her own hair were cut
short, like a boy's, she and the girl in the magazine could almost pass for
twins.
What a funny feeling!
Becky looked anxiously from the pages of the magazine to Archie's cock.
Sudden inspiration seized her. She remembered how she had lain
surreptitiously awake that night and watched Marjie and Terry going at each
other on the next bed. She remembered how Marjie had at one point of the
activity taken Terry's cock in hand and put it in her mouth. Becky had
never had the chance to try that, but it certainly hadn't killed Marjie,
had it? Could it hurt her? Of course a guy wouldn't shoot his juice in
her mouth. That would be poison, wouldn't it? But it seemed there would
be no harm in trying. Wasn't the girl in the magazine doing just that?
She moved her head forward suddenly, mouth open, and her tongue bathed
the tip of Archie's cock. The boy's eyes went wide, and he moved forward
to give Becky a better approach.
A pearly drop of semen appeared in the slit at the apex of his
circumcised corolla, spurred out of him by Becky's virgin tongue. Sudden
bravery inspired her. She flicked out with her linguam and brushed it
across the supersensitive head of his peter, drawing that glistening
driplet of come onto her tongue. It touched her taste bud and she marveled
at its slick sweetness. Was man come poison? She wondered, she still
didn't know, but she thought insanely that if it was, she couldn't think of
a tastier way of dying than to drink Archie's nuts dry.
"Oh, God," Archie whispered, "you're driving me crazy, Becky."
She made no reply, instead forming her mouth into an 0, just like the
girl in the magazine, and letting his cock slip inside the circle of that 0
to rest upon her laving tongue. She bathed round and round his prick with
her tongue, roughly rubbing the tender edges of the head-arrow point, and
then it slipped back along her tongue and her mouth closed shut round his
shaft. She sucked at him like he was a lollipop, her cheeks drawing in,
puffing out, her lips working up and down as she fed herself on the Staff
of Life.
Archie's legs were weak, he knew he couldn't stand up another second,
but he knew if he fell to the floor he'd break off contact with her
sucking, nursing mouth and he would rather die than have that happen.
Steeling himself to the delicious ordeal he kept his feet, and began to
swivel his hips in and out in time to her splendid sucking. His cock slid
back and forth along her wet soft tongue, pushing for her tonsils.
"Unngghh," Becky grunted as the cock drifted too far into her mouth, her
mind sending her mouth the message that she might gag or strangle if Archie
didn't take it easy. She reached out, caught him by the hips, and pulled
him toward the bed. Without taking her mouth off his shafting prick she
eased his hips onto the mattress, pushed his shoulders down so that he was
on his back. Now she was above him, now she could control the amount of
cock that fed into her mouth at any one time.
"Oh, baby, suck it! suck it!" Archie was groaning through clenched
teeth now, his hips arching and falling as Becky's head bobbed on his stiff
prick.
Becky's hand slid round and she pulled the magazine to where she could
see it as she sucked. The last shot on the bottom right corner shower her
look-alike merrily eating cock, although the positioning was different in
the photograph. The guy was above the girl, jamming peter to her like
cartridge belts into a machine gun. Well, she thought, maybe the girl has
more experience. I certainly don't want to strangle myself learning to do
this!
She flipped the page and saw that in the next sequence photo the girl
was using her hand on the guy's stalk, only the tip of it caught in her
sucking lips. Well, she thought, if its good enough for her--Becky drew
her hand up and released most of his length from her mouth. A hot hand
wrapped round his shaft just above the balls, and she gripped Archie tight.
He moaned in glee as her hand squeezed him.
Becky looked to the book for directions. In the next shot--as she could
tell from the change of position, as slight as it was--the girl was jacking
up and down on his cock while she sucked its point. Okay, she told
herself, and her hand began to lever him up and down. Oooh. She'd bopped
herself in the chin. Don't get carried away, Ryan, she warned herself.
You could get a bad bruise.
The next picture was more of the same. The girl was still jerking her
guy's prick while she sucked it. Good enough. And it was kinda fun. She
could taste the preliminary dribblings of come that were oozing out of his
cock as she fellated it, and she fell in love with the taste of man juice.
How could it be poison? She'd ask Marjie, just to be safe, if she
remembered. Meanwhile she was having too much fun to worry about
consequences.
Her eyes fell upon the last shot of the series. Oh! and her eyes went
very wide, for the guy had exploded in this photograph and his come was
dripping out of the girl's mouth. Becky's look-alike in the magazine had
swollen cheeks, obviously filled with semen, and it made her look like a
cute squirrel taking home a mouthful of nuts for the long winter. Well,
that was proof enough that juice in the mouth wasn't harmful.
Becky increased her action, anxious to see what would happen. Her fist
jerked up and down with increasing rapidity, her mouth sucking harder and
harder at the aching knob of flesh capping Archie's cock. Her oral juices
were flowing, coating his dicktip, and saliva was flowing down the shaft to
wet her fingers, and suddenly she knew that his sperm was going to fly very
soon!
She could feel it building up in his balls, feel it start to flood into
the duct on the underside of his cock. His prickhead expanded in her hot
sucking mouth, till she felt it would split her jaws open, and then her
hand trembled as the stream of bubbling come tore upward through his
shaking cock. The eyelet in the center of his corolla burst open and sweet
balsam poured into her mouth too strong to be denied or rejected. She knew
that her cheeks were bulging just like the blonde's in the porno magazine
had done, and she knew that his semen was filling every corner of her
mouth.
Becky began to swallow out of desperate panic, fearful that the river
flowing into her jaws would strangle her. "Glug, glug," noises issued from
her gasping throat as his slick sweet ooze gurgled down her throat, but
still she couldn't swallow it all. Surplus come dripped from her mouth and
splattered wet and hot upon her hands still clutching his dick, upon
Archie's pubic hair and balls and belly. Rivulets of semen trailed down
her chin from the corners of her lips--it seemed she must have come flowing
from her ears and eyes and nose, and still she swallowed, receiving a fresh
squirt of juice each time his cock jerked and pulsated in her tight grip.
Releasing Archie's cock at last, Becky looked once more at her
look-alike in the magazine. She doubted very much if the blonde in DANISH
ORGASM could have sucked a cock one whit more satisfactorily than she,
Becky Ryan, former virgin, had just done. And on her first time out! No
doubt about it, Becky told herself as she settled onto the bed wearing a
smug look of self-approval. Ryan, you are fucking fantastic!
Becky slept in Saturday morning. The very pleasant come she had enjoyed
up in Roy's room left her with no need to finger-fuck herself to sleep, and
the dreams that visited her body were sweetly erotic ones, filled with
balling on velvety clouds and in fragrant fields of honey and clover.
She knew now that she would have no trouble in finding the sex partners
she wanted. Picking up Roy had been easy as eating a piece of cake, and
this was her first try. What might she not do when she expanded her field
of operations to include other campus locations? Of course, having a coed
dorm to live in made things much easier. You could find a guy in the
social room, fuck him in his room, and go back to your own, all without
having to leave the building. Winters here in Henderson were cold, and
finding cock in Bentley Hall was a much more attractive idea than having to
comb the campus in the snow or below-zero temperatures.
Becky slept through breakfast, but by noon was hungry, so, deliberately
frowzy-looking in sloppy jeans and sweatshirt, her hair in curlers, she
went down to the cafeteria in the basement to grab a meal. Afterwards, in
her room, she was looking over her English assignment when the phone rang.
"Hello," she said in a sultry voice she had decided to experiment with.
"Hello," came a male voice in reply. "Is this the Becky I met last
night in Roy's room?"
"It might be," she cooed. "Who's this, please?"
"My name's Paul."
"Hi, Paul," she said.
"Jeez, I'm glad I found you. All I knew was your first name, and I've
been going through the student directory calling every Becky in Bentley
Hall. You're the eighth one I've tried, by the way." They laughed
together, and he went on, "Are you busy this afternoon?"
"No," she said. "Did you have something in mind?"
"Kind of," he admitted. "Can you come up to my room? It's 612. And
soon?"
"I think so," she replied. "Let me put on something sexy."
"Yeah," he leered into the phone. "You just do that."
* * * *
Becky dressed in a hurry, jerking the curlers out of her hair. She
wanted to look nice, because Paul had been a pretty good piece of cock.
Not as good as Sam in every respect, true, but he could learn. And she
would have a lot of fun learning the art of fucking right along with him,
for as long as they were content to ball together.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Nice, Ryan, she thought gaily.
She was wearing a simple blouse, with a wide elastic neckline, that she
caught round the curves of her shoulders to expose the fact that she had no
bra strap to interfere with a sweet view. Her hips were covered by a short
skirt, one of the ones she had brought from home; after the party at Sam
and Terry's, she and Marjie had gone through the old Becky's rather demure
wardrobe, raising hemlines wherever possible. As a consequence, the skirt
rode high on her thighs, hung just below the delightful curve of her ass.
She whirled round before the looking glass, noting with approval the way
the skirt whirled and swayed when she moved. Legs flashed and thighs
twinkled. She was ready. She only hoped Paul was too.
* * * *
Becky knocked on the door of 612 and it opened to her. Paul stood
there, a cigarette clenched between his lips. "Wow," he said, taking in
the artfully enhanced curves of her sweet body. "You look good enough to
eat!"
"I certainly hope so," she smiled in reply, closing the door behind her.
Becky approached him on cat feet, her outstretched arms wrapping round
his back. She pressed her head close to his, searching for his mouth with
her own. He kissed her back, then pulled his head away.
She shrugged and flopped herself down on one of the two beds. "Any time
you want to start," she smiled.
Paul lit another cigarette. "Ah, well, uh, Becky--it's like this, see.
I, uh, wanted you to come up, because I had a good time last night, see,
and I remembered that-I remembered it real well," he emphasized, "and, bin,
well, I thought--"
"Get to it," she said, "cause I wanta get to it!"
"Okay," he protested, "okay. I wanted you to come up, see, because,
well, uh--" he searched for the words. "See, I have this book report due
in Political Science next week, and I don't write too well. I don't talk
too well either, but you probably know that already. Anyway, my roomie is
a real egg-head. You know, with glasses and an I.Q. and everything, one
of those kind. So he's gonna write the report for me, and I thought maybe,
well, that instead of paying him for it, maybe I could talk you into--I
mean, maybe you wouldn't mind--"
Becky frowned. "You want me to fuck your roommate so he'll do your
homework for you. Is that right? Am I getting the drift of what you're
drifting around?"
Paul nodded. "I hope you're not mad at me for asking," he was quick to
add, "but I thought--"
"You thought that since I'd fucked you and what's his name last night
that I wouldn't mind taking on your roomie too."
Paul stared at her, hope fading in his eyes. He knew she was gonna tell
him to stick his roomie and his book report up his ass, and shove his cock
in with them. He knew that's what she was gonna say.
"Oh, all right," Becky shrugged. "I guess it won't hurt."
Paul sighed in relief. Now he wouldn't have to give Archie the five
dollars he'd been asking for writing the book report. He wondered if he
might not even be able to get five dollars and the book report out of
Archie Instead. Hmm? It was worth a try, he decided.
"What's he like?" Becky asked.
"You know," Paul replied. "An egghead. That type."
Becky didn't know what an egghead looked like. None of the boys in
Fayetteville had been intellectually inclined. Most of them, she realized
now, were too dumb to pour piss out of a boot with directions printed on
the heel. "When do I make him?" she asked.
"Huh?" Paul asked, stirred from his reverie. "Oh, he'll be back here in
a few minutes. He's at the library, but he said he'd be back by two
o'clock."
"Are you gonna stay and watch?" she asked acidly.
Paul missed the sarcasm in her voice. "Oh, no," he smiled, "I have a
date this afternoon to play tennis. I won't be around."
She nodded, disdain curling her mouth. Becky Ryan, she told herself
bitterly, you really are a slut. Not because you made it with two guys in
a row without a break, but because now, like a dumb, damned whore, you're
letting yourself get set up to fuck away a conniving bastard's debts. She
was still musing over this new twist in her recently begun sexual life when
Paul bid her goodbye and went out the door.
* * * *
Becky was sitting on the bed looking at a book when the doorknob turned.
She looked up with a smile as a boy entered.
"Hi," she said, her face bright but her heart sinking. Oh, God! she
thought suddenly. He's a dwarf! The guy wasn't really a dwarf, but he
stood at least five inches shorter than Becky. She didn't have to measure
him with a yardstick to know that if they stood face to face, his eyes
would be on a level with her collarbone.
"Who are you?" asked the boy, his eyes bugging. He looked at Becky's
fetching smile, looked at her bared shoulders, stared Lustfully at her even
more fetching legs. And then his eyes nearly popped out of his head when
he saw the long-limbed girl stretch herself and slide like a lazy tigress
from the soft cushioning mat of the bed on which she had been lying. He
saw the muscles ripple in her legs, saw the bareness of her thighs, stared
into the tantalizing partial revelation of her crotch as she got to her
feet. And then she was coming toward him, her body a lithe tribute to
human anatomy.
"I'm Becky," she said, touching one long finger to the boy's chest. He
jerked at her contact, and the books in his arm fell to the floor. "Did I
startle you?" she asked, suddenly very concerned. And as he knelt to pick
up the items he had dropped, she knelt with him, her knees up and her skirt
risen high to reveal the pantied bulge of her crotch.
Archie didn't want to get up, because he knew that she would see his
bard-on jutting inside his pants. That had hit him as soon as he saw the
casual exposure of her undies, and it embarrassed him. He knew she must be
waiting for Paul, and he hated Paul suddenly for being able to get girls
like this.
"Paul isn't here," he said breathlessly, still kneeling. Becky had
arisen now and he looked at her, his eyes filled mostly with the vision of
her long bare legs, his brain seeking to will its way to X-ray eyesight
that he might look beneath the fabric of her skirt, penetrate the nylon of
the panties he had already seen. He wished she would go, because be knew
his hard-on would never diminish so long as she was here, but he didn't
want her to go, for the sensation of being here alone with her, able to
fantasize anything he wanted regarding her and that lovely body--this was
something he wanted to keep always.
"I know Paul isn't here," she said with that Madonna smile, and her
fingers touched his hair ever so lightly. "I wanted to see you."
Now Archie knew be was dreaming. He'd died and gone to hell. That was
it! A car had bit him on the way back from the library and he was in hell
and Satan was tempting him with this vision. The moment he tried to put a
hand on the form that was haunting him right now, it would vanish and he
would be in the midst of broiling, scorching fires with imps tormenting his
reddened body with the points of their pitchforks. Oh, he knew it now!
Becky's hand slipped down his cheek, stroking his flesh. Could even the
devil make a vision so real? Archie was frozen fast with fear. His cock
jutted out angrily but his muscles would not propel him even if he dared
move.
"Are you real?" Archie croaked, his vocal chords drying up as he spoke,
his throat tightening so that he couldn't even swallow. He thought of all
the times he had masturbated himself to a fury, spilling his semen onto his
fingers, onto his sheet, into tissues, handkerchiefs, wherever be could
squirt it, while he fantasized the image of a beautiful woman who wanted
him, only him--who touched him and caressed him and made love to him with
her voice until his cock was stiff and aching with the release it desired
and she took his desire in hand and relieved him of it and left him
shrieking and screaming his ecstasy to the whole world around.
"Of course I'm real, Archie," she said, and he knew it must be a dream,
for how else would she know his name? She was so tall, much taller than
he, and so beautiful in her pristine, classic way. As he knelt beneath her
he could see the little breasts banging in the cloth of her blouse, could
see the pricking points of her nipples showing in the front of her garment,
could smell, for Christ's sake, the womanly aroma of her. He wanted her
and he knew he could never have her, for she was the kind of girl a guy
like him never got. He wished he could cry his heart out, cuddling his
head on those apples growing from her chest, hug his face in her legs and
spill tears onto the slim gorgeous columns that rose in graceful curves
from ankles to ass.
And her hands were reaching for his now, and his palms felt the touch of
hers, and she was clasping him. She tugged, and he had no will to resist.
He rose, oblivious now to the inescapable bulge in his pants, and she moved
her body against his. He tried to pull his crotch back, so she wouldn't
notice that he was aroused, but there was no stopping her as she ground her
pelvis against his, feeling with her loins every inch of what he had inside
his trousers.
She dipped her head then, her tongue flicking out like a snake's, and
her mouth approached his, and he bent his head upward to meet hers, for she
was so much taller, and he knew then his first kiss from a sensual woman's
lips. Her tongue easily penetrated the skimpy barrier of his teeth and
delved inside his mouth, deliciously wet, erotically exciting, and he could
feel the spittle of her mouth. He threw his arms round her and clasped his
body against hers, ramming the erect presence of his covered prick into her
consciousness.
Becky smiled as she felt Archie's arousal. She tongued him again and
again, making his prick grow harder and harder till she was sure it
wouldn't break if hit by a sledgehammer. Her lips soft against his, she
withdrew her tongue from his mouth and cooed against him, "Would you like
to fuck me now, Archie? Would you like to take that stiff cock of yours
and jam it into Becky's pretty cunny hole?" He gurgled soporifically, and
she went "Hmmm?" into his open mouth, making him tingle from the humming.
"Oh, God, yes," he whispered, "please let me put my cock in you. I
promise I'll do it right. I'll fuck you real good if you'll let me.
Please, Becky. I'll eat your pussy. I'll do anything you want me to."
Now, Becky thought. Now she would throw herself out of his grasp and
laugh her ass off at him and his stupid prick. Tell him that his fucking
roommate had tried to get her to whore herself for him, tried to talk her
into fucking his slob of a roomie just to save himself a little cash. And
then she would laugh and giggle and laugh and chortle and laugh and whinny
like a horse as she watched the tentlike projection of his pants front
collapse from shame. As for Paul, she'd castrate him some other way.
Maybe Marjie would have an idea.
"Oh, God," Archie went on, his breath hot and faintly sweet in her face.
"I've never done it before but I know I can do it right, if you'll just let
me. Please, Becky, please!" His glasses were steaming up from the heat of
her presence and his eyes were pleading like a puppy's. Becky felt sorry
for him all of a sudden, and she wondered if she were callous enough to go
through with the plan she had devised. And what had he said--he'd never
done it before?
"Archie," she whispered breathily, "are you really a cherry?" Her arm
squeezed round his back, slipped down to fondle the cheeks of his slim male
ass. His eyes turned away from hers. "Come on," she teased him, "you can
tell Aunty Becky if you are." He nodded quickly, almost as if he wanted to
do it without her seeing.
Well! she thought This was kinda different after all. If Archie had
been a pussy-hound like Paul apparently was, she would have been able to
scotch the snake of his loins without a qualm of anxiety, but to do that
sort of thing to a boy evidently aching to lose his cherry--that would be
as cruel an assault as Ted had perpetrated upon her. She suddenly felt a
motherly tenderness, a sympathy for this poor virgin boy. She wanted to
help him now, not hurt him.
Becky slipped out of Archie's arms and made her way to the bed where she
sat down. Her finger motioned for him to come to her, and he came, as
though hypnotized. She laid an arm round his shoulders.
"You've really never had a girl before?" she asked. He shook his head.
"How do you get relief, then? I mean, don't boys have urges?" He blushed
red and she knew. "I'll bet you play with yourself, don't you?" She
touched the stiff rod in his pants. "You take this out and you slide your
hand up and down the shaft until you squirt out all that man goo, don't
you?" He blushed again, and a giggle started to come from his lips.
Shocked that he could be doing such a silly thing he turned his head away
from her, but she caught his chin and pulled his face to hers again.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Archie," she said, "but you have to grow
out of that sort of thing. Would you believe that I used to do it to
myself too?" His eyes bugged and she nodded. "So I know all about it. And
now," she went on, "you and I will find a better way for you to get rid of
all that excess juice that keeps building up down there. Okay?"
Archie was out of it by now. The shock of what had been happening to
him ever since he stepped into the same old room he had been coming to
since the start of school was too much for him. His mouth could only
gurgle, and flashes of tumultuous pleasure shot to his brain as Becky
fondled the protrusion in his pants.
"Well," Becky told him, giving the poking pole a friendly tap, "let's do
it, then." She got up off the bed and released the waistband of her skirt.
It fell to the floor and she stepped out of it. Archie's eyes focused upon
her tiny panties, dreaming of what lay beneath them. He hoped her pubic
hair was naturally blonde. That would be pretty.
Becky put her clothing on Archie's desk as she discarded each item of
dress, but as her hand deposited the blouse she fumbled and knocked a pile
of notebooks and her skirt to the floor. "Damn," she said softly, kneeling
to retrieve the spilled articles, and then she saw, stuffed in between two
of Archie's notebooks, a magazine. It was a slick paper job, about
standard magazine size, but the cover illustration was like nothing she had
ever seen before.
In a full-color close-up a beautiful girl was sucking hungrily on the
shaft of an incredibly huge, stiff cock. The girl's cheeks were drawn in
as she mouthed away at the organ and a look of rapture was on her face.
Becky looked at the title. DANISH ORGASM.
"What's this?" she asked, turning to Archie.
"Oh," he said in a choked voice, blushing still redder.
Becky flipped the magazine's pages. Every page was filled with
photographs in color or monochrome of men and women performing various
sexual activities. She had never seen pictures like this before, and she
looked with fascination. Her eyes drifted from the page to the poleaxed
Archie.
"Is this yours?" she asked. He nodded, shamefaced. "And do you look at
this while you play with your peter?" He nodded once more. "I'll bet you
imagine that you're the guy in the pictures, too, don't you?" Again he
nodded. "Well."
Becky arose from the floor, leaving her clothes and the other things
where they had fallen. She came to him, nude, the book in her hand.
Archie sat silently, embarrassed that she had discovered his secret
shame. Even Paul didn't know about his dirty magazine.
"Ooh," Becky said with a grimace as she stared at a full-color shot of a
girl getting fucked in the ass by a man with an enormous prick. "That's
terrible!" She looked at Archie. "You better get your things off, Tiger.
You can't fuck me if you're dressed."
Archie jumped off the bed and sped lightning fingers to the fastenings
of his clothes. Becky was still lying on the bed, her eyes taking in the
various sexual practices illustrated for her benefit. She looked up and
saw Archie standing beside the bed, his cock jutting out. My, she thought.
He certainly has a nice size! If he can't get girls, it's his own damned
fault!
She had just found the center story of the issue. It featured a guy and
a slim, lovely blonde girl. God, she thought, if her own hair were cut
short, like a boy's, she and the girl in the magazine could almost pass for
twins.
What a funny feeling!
Becky looked anxiously from the pages of the magazine to Archie's cock.
Sudden inspiration seized her. She remembered how she had lain
surreptitiously awake that night and watched Marjie and Terry going at each
other on the next bed. She remembered how Marjie had at one point of the
activity taken Terry's cock in hand and put it in her mouth. Becky had
never had the chance to try that, but it certainly hadn't killed Marjie,
had it? Could it hurt her? Of course a guy wouldn't shoot his juice in
her mouth. That would be poison, wouldn't it? But it seemed there would
be no harm in trying. Wasn't the girl in the magazine doing just that?
She moved her head forward suddenly, mouth open, and her tongue bathed
the tip of Archie's cock. The boy's eyes went wide, and he moved forward
to give Becky a better approach.
A pearly drop of semen appeared in the slit at the apex of his
circumcised corolla, spurred out of him by Becky's virgin tongue. Sudden
bravery inspired her. She flicked out with her linguam and brushed it
across the supersensitive head of his peter, drawing that glistening
driplet of come onto her tongue. It touched her taste bud and she marveled
at its slick sweetness. Was man come poison? She wondered, she still
didn't know, but she thought insanely that if it was, she couldn't think of
a tastier way of dying than to drink Archie's nuts dry.
"Oh, God," Archie whispered, "you're driving me crazy, Becky."
She made no reply, instead forming her mouth into an 0, just like the
girl in the magazine, and letting his cock slip inside the circle of that 0
to rest upon her laving tongue. She bathed round and round his prick with
her tongue, roughly rubbing the tender edges of the head-arrow point, and
then it slipped back along her tongue and her mouth closed shut round his
shaft. She sucked at him like he was a lollipop, her cheeks drawing in,
puffing out, her lips working up and down as she fed herself on the Staff
of Life.
Archie's legs were weak, he knew he couldn't stand up another second,
but he knew if he fell to the floor he'd break off contact with her
sucking, nursing mouth and he would rather die than have that happen.
Steeling himself to the delicious ordeal he kept his feet, and began to
swivel his hips in and out in time to her splendid sucking. His cock slid
back and forth along her wet soft tongue, pushing for her tonsils.
"Unngghh," Becky grunted as the cock drifted too far into her mouth, her
mind sending her mouth the message that she might gag or strangle if Archie
didn't take it easy. She reached out, caught him by the hips, and pulled
him toward the bed. Without taking her mouth off his shafting prick she
eased his hips onto the mattress, pushed his shoulders down so that he was
on his back. Now she was above him, now she could control the amount of
cock that fed into her mouth at any one time.
"Oh, baby, suck it! suck it!" Archie was groaning through clenched
teeth now, his hips arching and falling as Becky's head bobbed on his stiff
prick.
Becky's hand slid round and she pulled the magazine to where she could
see it as she sucked. The last shot on the bottom right corner shower her
look-alike merrily eating cock, although the positioning was different in
the photograph. The guy was above the girl, jamming peter to her like
cartridge belts into a machine gun. Well, she thought, maybe the girl has
more experience. I certainly don't want to strangle myself learning to do
this!
She flipped the page and saw that in the next sequence photo the girl
was using her hand on the guy's stalk, only the tip of it caught in her
sucking lips. Well, she thought, if its good enough for her--Becky drew
her hand up and released most of his length from her mouth. A hot hand
wrapped round his shaft just above the balls, and she gripped Archie tight.
He moaned in glee as her hand squeezed him.
Becky looked to the book for directions. In the next shot--as she could
tell from the change of position, as slight as it was--the girl was jacking
up and down on his cock while she sucked its point. Okay, she told
herself, and her hand began to lever him up and down. Oooh. She'd bopped
herself in the chin. Don't get carried away, Ryan, she warned herself.
You could get a bad bruise.
The next picture was more of the same. The girl was still jerking her
guy's prick while she sucked it. Good enough. And it was kinda fun. She
could taste the preliminary dribblings of come that were oozing out of his
cock as she fellated it, and she fell in love with the taste of man juice.
How could it be poison? She'd ask Marjie, just to be safe, if she
remembered. Meanwhile she was having too much fun to worry about
consequences.
Her eyes fell upon the last shot of the series. Oh! and her eyes went
very wide, for the guy had exploded in this photograph and his come was
dripping out of the girl's mouth. Becky's look-alike in the magazine had
swollen cheeks, obviously filled with semen, and it made her look like a
cute squirrel taking home a mouthful of nuts for the long winter. Well,
that was proof enough that juice in the mouth wasn't harmful.
Becky increased her action, anxious to see what would happen. Her fist
jerked up and down with increasing rapidity, her mouth sucking harder and
harder at the aching knob of flesh capping Archie's cock. Her oral juices
were flowing, coating his dicktip, and saliva was flowing down the shaft to
wet her fingers, and suddenly she knew that his sperm was going to fly very
soon!
She could feel it building up in his balls, feel it start to flood into
the duct on the underside of his cock. His prickhead expanded in her hot
sucking mouth, till she felt it would split her jaws open, and then her
hand trembled as the stream of bubbling come tore upward through his
shaking cock. The eyelet in the center of his corolla burst open and sweet
balsam poured into her mouth too strong to be denied or rejected. She knew
that her cheeks were bulging just like the blonde's in the porno magazine
had done, and she knew that his semen was filling every corner of her
mouth.
Becky began to swallow out of desperate panic, fearful that the river
flowing into her jaws would strangle her. "Glug, glug," noises issued from
her gasping throat as his slick sweet ooze gurgled down her throat, but
still she couldn't swallow it all. Surplus come dripped from her mouth and
splattered wet and hot upon her hands still clutching his dick, upon
Archie's pubic hair and balls and belly. Rivulets of semen trailed down
her chin from the corners of her lips--it seemed she must have come flowing
from her ears and eyes and nose, and still she swallowed, receiving a fresh
squirt of juice each time his cock jerked and pulsated in her tight grip.
Releasing Archie's cock at last, Becky looked once more at her
look-alike in the magazine. She doubted very much if the blonde in DANISH
ORGASM could have sucked a cock one whit more satisfactorily than she,
Becky Ryan, former virgin, had just done. And on her first time out! No
doubt about it, Becky told herself as she settled onto the bed wearing a
smug look of self-approval. Ryan, you are fucking fantastic!
2 years ago
