Message-ID: <26127asstr$967695021@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: "joseph_lawrence " <joseph_lawrence@my-deja.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <MCFMMNMIDBHCOCAA@my-deja.com> X-Sent-Mail: off Reply-To: joseph_lawrence@my-deja.com Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Subject: {ASSM} Not So Fast {Joe} (M+F M-1st cons) Date: Thu, 31 Aug 2000 00:10:21 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/26127> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, newsman, kelly Copyright Joe Lawrence, 2000. --== Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/ ==-- Before you buy. <1st attachment, "hall.txt" begin> She was an eighteen year old medical student. He was a maths student. I was an engineering student. We all slept naked, or nearly so, on the floor, the penetrating light of early morning streaming through the cracks in the ragged curtains. Around us the hall of residence was sleepily coming to life, razors hummed, toothbrushes shished, eyes looked blearily into mirrors reminding their owners to never do it again. I woke. Powerful scents assaulted me. Delicious scents, rich and heady, full of heart-pumping passion and thigh-straining energy. I watched the dust dance in the light for a moment before sensing a dampness under my back. I reached round, gently so as not to disturb anyone. I fished out a piece of cloth, wet even now. I lifted it to the light. It was her white underwear, still soaked with her. I smiled and put them down softly on the carpet. They were still wet. Still wet, and still pulsating with the scent that filled the whole room. She stirred, turning in her sleep to get more comfortable. Her arm flopped over my belly as our bodies pressed closer together but she neither woke nor made a sound. I felt a new dampness on my legs. A warm, hairy dampness. I reached down to it, softly, gently feeling it. It was hair, damp enough to glisten in the light, wet enough to saturate the air around it with scent strange yet so wonderful as to be the most beautiful thing in the whole world. I slipped my hand over the ends of the hairs, feeling the heat radiating out from their roots. Then my hand touched bare flesh, a thigh. It too was damp, but a different kind of damp, more clinging, somehow more private. It too added to the scents that filled the room, but it didn't cry out, now demand attention like the other did. It was a scent that was as familiar as the other was exotic. It was my scent, the dampness on her thigh was mine. I stiffened. I thought back to the night, how it had all culminated here on the floor. Us two men shared a room; she was a friend. Just a friend, but a good one. She was engaged and we knew her fiance well. We all got along well - going out for drinks together, talking; just being friends. She was no virgin, we all knew that and sometimes joked about it; only one of us, myself, was. We all had a good time together. Two of us shared the room. We went most places together, so much so that probably, no definitely, some of the other students thought we were homosexual. We weren't, but what was the point of arguing about it? We enjoyed doing things together. Most things. In the night we had done a few more things together, nothing more. Yet we were quite different. He was slightly older, not that that mattered much. We were from different parts of the country, brought together by chance in the capital for university. We drank together, sometimes too much, but we were young and carefree and eager for more. That evening had started slowly. In fact it was boring. We, my roommate and I, were sitting wondering what to do when she knocked at our door. I creaked the door open theatrically and beckoned for her to come in. She smiled at us as she strode in. "Would we like to go to a midnight movie premier?" she asked. It was a horror movie apparently. "It would be fun," she said. It sounded like a good idea, and a whole lot more exciting than anything we could come up with. We said yes. My roommate went to get his girlfriend. The four of us went into town, having a drink before heading for the theatre. There was nothing unusual in that. We often drank as a group, though not as two pairs, just as four friends. The programme started at half past eleven, with the feature rolling on the stroke of the witching hour. The movie itself was fun, as she had said it would be, with some genuinely scary moments thanks to some, for the time, remarkable special effects. It had some funny moments too, such as when the lead's dead and decaying brother meets him in a soft porn cinema, and some sexy ones too. A good time was had by all, as they say, and yes, it did save the evening. We came out of the theatre to be greeted by a crisp November night, and no obvious way of getting back to what passed for home. In our adventurous state we had forgotten about the practicalities of transport past midnight, and it was now fast approaching two in the morning. It would be gone three before we eventually stepped off the night bus and walked through the near- silent back streets to our hall. She offered us all a coffee in her room before bed. The girlfriend declined, and wandered off sleepily to her own room. As I sat sipping coffee in the small hours in her room I thought to myself how this all might have looked to some people. To many, simply being in a girl's room after midnight, or even eleven o-clock was evidence of sex. Yet here we were, two guys, in a girl's room at well past three, all fully clothed and without even a thought of sex. Ok, so I did think about it fleetingly, but I certainly didn't show it. We talked quietly. We drank our coffee. I put down my empty cup. I told the others I had better go to get some sleep. My roommate agreed, it had been a great evening and night, but it was time to wrap it all up. Then my heart leapt into my mouth. She looked at us and said that she didn't want to spend the night by herself. I asked why, incredulous. She told us that she was scared. My roommate told her that her room, being a single, wasn't big enough for all of us, where would we sleep? In any case sleeping over in a girl's room was bound to cause all sorts of talk. No, the two of us males agreed, we couldn't stay, in any case it was only a movie after all, it wasn't real. "Ok", she told us. We turned to leave. I opened the door and held it for my roommate. He walked through and before I followed I turned to her and said "It'll be all right, you'll be fine." As I walked along the landing I looked back and saw her standing smiling at the doorway. I thought to myself, "Look what you've gone and done! You've blown the best opportunity you've ever had!" and moments later, "No, that'd be stupid, taking advantage. No, it'd have ruined everything. Walking away's the best thing. Tomorrow it'd all have felt really wrong." We turned to go down the stairs. I heard a light switch and then her door closing. I remember thinking that was odd. Then we were out into the night again. The hall of residence was in two buildings with an open square between. Our room was in the older building just across the square. We jogged quietly. It was very late, and the silence around us bid us not to talk. I entered our hall first. The night warden, another student earning a little to ease his way through university, jokingly wondered if we had turned into vampires during the evening. My roommate replied that werewolves would be more appropriate. We hurried onwards, up the stairs to our floor, along the narrow corridor brightly lit by bare bulbs. I fumbled for a key. The door rattled, worn and loose in it's frame, as I unlocked. We went in, busying ourselves with hurried forms of the rituals of preparation for bed. The knock rapped sharply through the air light only by the strip light over the washbasin. We both froze. I was tidying the covers on my bed, and was in my usual night wear - just underpants. My roommate was brushing his teeth, spitting the water out into the basin. He looked at me, saw my undress and wiping his mouth dry motioned to me to find something else to wear or to get out of eye-line of the door. I reached for the shirt I had just taken off. The sleeves were inside out, and the buttons suddenly seemed impossible to do up. I fumbled for a few seconds before flinging off the shirt and jumping into bed instead. What did the night warden want? Had I dropped something perhaps? My roommate cracked open the door. Just wide enough to see who stood there knocking. "What are you doing there?" He asked incredulously. "I told you I didn't want to be alone tonight." I clutched the covers tight over my head. My roommate opened the door a little wider and turned to me asking, "Well, It'll be ok I suppose, won't it?" "I lowered the covers slightly. "What will?" "Her sleeping with us tonight." "Oh no! Not sleeping with you!" She interjected. "Not that, no. Just sleeping in the same room as someone else, you two, if that's ok." "Look, it's late," I said, "as long as I don't have to give up my bed its ok. Lets just get some sleep, please." "Thank you, both of you." My roommate gallantly offered his bed to her. She accepted, he hurriedly made up a bed of sorts on the floor. I had to give up a blanket to him, but despite the chill the hall was heated well enough. I admit watching vicariously as she shed her outer clothes. She didn't seem to mind. She climbed into the bed in just her bra and panties. In any case we had gone swimming together more than once and she had worn just as little then, and we had been much closer, touching even. She smiled at me and said. "Goodnight. Don't let the werewolves bite." As the light went off and my roommate slipped into his makeshift bed in a tee-shirt and underwear I, perhaps naively thought that that would be that. We'd all go off to sleep. For a short while it seemed as that would indeed happen. I heard my roommate roll over to get more comfortable. My thoughts were that a girl was sleeping nearby. A little light filtered in from the streetlamp outside. The bare bulbs cast their glow through the gaping crack under the door. A clock ticked. In the distance a motorbike started, revved a couple of times then moved off in to the darkness. One of us moved in bed. I dozed, sleep finally getting the better of me. I soon woke to a movement. The sound of carefully placed footsteps. The sound of a tap being opened ever so gently so as not to wake anyone. A gulp, a splash as the remainder of the glass found its way into the basin. A shadow moved through the room. A tall shadow, taller than I and nearly as tall as my six foot roommate. Even in the dark I could tell that this was not his shadow. "Why don't you just take the glass with you?" He said. "I'm sorry, I thought you were asleep," she replied quietly. "Keep it down you two," I said through a heavily beating heart. "It's difficult enough getting to sleep as it is without you two jabbering on." Jokingly she said, "Would it help if I gave you a goodnight kiss?" "No! my heart's going ten to the dozen as it is, that's just make things worse." "Is it?" The shadow moved to the foot of my bed. It deftly drew the covers up a little and gripped my ankle firmly but gently. Professionally in fact. She wasn't feeling me up, she was feeling for something. She adjusted her finger's grip until she felt what she was after. "Oh yes," she said after a quiet pause, "So it is." "What are you doing?" "Feeling your pulse." "But I thought you had to feel my wrist for that." "Oh, the wrist is the easiest, and it's easy to get at, but there are other places. The ankle, for example, or the neck." "I'm not letting you near my neck, not after that film!" My roommate laughed as he lay in his bed. "Ok then, how about the groin?" "The ankle's bad enough. Why do you think my heartbeat's so high anyway eh? If you put your hands anywhere near my groin I'd die!" "No you won't!" she laughed. Come on, I've got to practise my bedside manner you know. With that she loosed her hold on my ankle. She drew her hand away for a moment. Then said, "Here, I'll prove it." She thrust her hand further under the covers, squatting down to get a better position. I drew back up the bed. She clasped my thigh just above the knee. "No hold still, this won't hurt a bit." She slid her hand up my thigh, I trembled. She pressed her fingers into the flesh of the inside of my right thigh, close to my covered groin. My heart pounded. She surely couldn't have missed that pulse, it was practically blowing my head apart with each surge. She held her hand in place for something over ten seconds, matching my every discomforted squirm. Then it was over, she withdrew her hand. "Well what is it?" "A pulse, fast and strong." "What did you expect a guy's heart to do when a great girl touches his thigh?" "I've been taking men's groin pulses all week, and none had that reaction. Here, you can take my pulse now." She got up. In my mind I saw her lift her leg on to the bed, giving me her ankle. She was not a delicate flower of a girl. She was tall, but with comparatively short legs topped by high buttocks. She was muscular and fit. She swam well, and had been on the university reserve team. She had long blond hair that had to be tamed for college, and left to hang loose in the evenings. This daily mistreatment ensured that it rarely fell straight from her crown. She came to my side, but she didn't lift her leg to give me her ankle, instead she stood with her legs broadly split. I looked at her in what little light there was, detecting soft traces of her female scent. "I'm not a medical student. I can't feel you there for any reason. I'm afraid of touching something I shouldn't." My roommate coughed uncomfortably. "Ok," she said. "Do you want me to show you how?" "No. Please I couldn't stop myself I'm afraid." "It's ok. I'm faithful to my fianc,. I won't let you do anything you shouldn't." "Even so. please don't ask me to feel you there." "Will this help?" she asked putting one hand on the edge of the bed and gently lifting her leg. Her foot came to rest close to my hand. "Where?" "Here," she said taking my hand in hers and slipping it to her ankle. "Just here." She grasp my two longest fingers and curled them round her flesh covered bones to where two met in a sinew filled groove on the inside of her leg just above the foot. She held them tight to her. I felt nothing at first. She hopped a little closer and pressed me harder to her. Then I felt it, a slight rippling deep in the flesh, a regular beating - her pulse. "Wow! You really can feel it there!" "Yes. What else did you think ? I wasn't seducing you, I was just, oh I don't know. I can't sleep, can you?" She said as she released her grip. "I don't know about you two, but I certainly can't get to sleep with you two feeling each other all night!" "We're not feeling each other! Ok, so we are I suppose, but it's not like that." To prove my point I grew bold and moved my hand through the darkness. It touched her thigh high up. She gasped in surprise, much as she would have if my hand had been cold, but said nothing. I pressed my fingers in her flesh, feeling incredibly adventurous. "Not there. Higher," she said in a matter of fact way. Yet her voice trembled audibly with the beat of her heart. Higher? How could I dare go higher? Her whole body pulsed now. Every part of her shook to her heartbeat. She took my hand once more and slipped it up her inner thigh. There, close enough to feel the heat radiating from between her legs, she pressed my fingers into her thigh. I felt her pulse, and her breathing, steadily riding and falling, lifting her heat away from me with each intake. She withdrew her guiding hand. I took that as a signal. I pushed my hand higher, briefly touching the fabric of her panties before she firmly but silently guided my hand away, pulling it down below her knee. I don't know if my roommate saw what happened, or if he heard anything that could have revealed my actions to him. I know that she could have given me away. She could have told me to move, instead she had chosen to do so silently and gently. She had also not moved away, or even told me not to touch her - she had guided my hand deliberately to a `safer' part of her, but a part nonetheless. "There," she said softly. Did you feel that? "Yes," I said weakly. I had thrilled to the barest illicit touch of a girl. To my surprise she had not bitten my head off for it. My heart beat faster, knowing that she would let me touch, but would not let me go too far. Her hand had told me that she was serious about being faithful to her fiance and while most of me wanted desperately for her not to be, an important part of me honoured her enough not to let the rest of me push her too far. Then she moved away. She didn't brush me off, she just stepped forward I the darkness. Her hair glinted in the light from the street. Her eye, caught in the beam, seemed to sparkle bright. She turned round and backed to the bed, dropping to sit with her back to me, her legs stretched out in front, pushing against the crumpled sheets under which my roommate still lay. She sat there against my bed for a few seconds before reaching behind for my hand. She pulled it to her shoulder, placing it there with determined deliberation. I slipped my hand back and forth, caressing her shoulder. She began to tip her head a little to meet each stroke. Her flesh, in the chill of the night, felt dry and slightly rougher than I'd expected. I pressed a little harder, making an attempt at massage. Her shoulders rose and fell noticeably, her hair spilled over on to my bed. I sat up, keeping the covers over my chest. I reached to her with my other hand, massaging both of her shoulders as best I could, feeling the tension in her power flesh beneath. I heard a rustle, my roommate was moving, though to where and why I couldn't tell. I continued my motions, wrapped up in my private world of sensation. I grew bolder with my caresses. She seemed to like me gently running my hands over her neck, and less gently down her back. I even tried slipping down her arms. She let me do it all. The only things to hamper my exploration of her were her bra straps, but I dared not move them nor even go near. They said no, and set her limits, but she did not. I moved closer still, only now letting the covers slip exposing my unhaired chest. Now I could grow bolder still. What would she do? She suddenly shuddered. What had I done? Nothing as yet. I heard a muffled "Sorry," in my roommate's voice from the darkness. She settled down, bringing her hand up to mine. For a moment we rested our hands together on her shoulder. Then she left me once again, and I continued my touch. I was feeling the bare flesh of a girl. I could hardly believe it, yet it was happening. Pushed on by the thought I moved my hands over her shoulders on to her upper chest. She let me run them across her. She let me press my cheek close to her neck. She let me go lower. She let me caress the fullness of her revealed breast until I touched the fabric of her bra cup. She wore full cups, while in my mind I had touched her breast I probably had not until my fingers contacted the fabric. Once more I feared she would shout at me, or worse. Once again she simply took my hands in hers and moved them back to her shoulders, out of harm's way. I resumed my caress, sheepishly and tentatively at first, until she turned her head and gently kissed my hand as it rested hesitantly on her shoulder. I moved my head forwards, closer to hers. Our lips met, just a touch, then she turned away again. I slipped my hands firmly over her shoulders and down her chest. I once more touched fabric, yet no hand moved to bid me away. She let me run my hands over her white-cupped breast. I did not know where to touch, or where to expect her to want to be touched, if at all. She had told me where not to touch, and now she'd let me go there. Still she said nothing. She began to respond under my fingers, her nipples hardening, pressing through the fabric. I wanted to feel the full fullness or her breasts. I moved my wandering hands up again, above the cup's hemline. Pressing harder into her flesh I tried to slip my hand under the cloth. I managed to get a finger under and for a moment she seemed to be going to let me go further, then her hands once more came up to move me away. I went back to caressing her back. I heard a noise like my roommate kissing something, a slight noise in the darkness. She stretched taller. As she rose I run my fingers under her side bra straps, expecting her to move me away again. I ran my hands forwards as she slipped back down. Her hands moved again. I desperation, as her hands rose, I shoved my hands forward more, round her sides under the fabric to rest on her breasts, though still out of reach of her nipples. Her hands touched my forearms, but instead of going forward to grab my still exposed wrists she reached round behind and, arching her back off the side of the bed, she fumbled for something. Suddenly the pressure from the bra was eased, and with a final movement, released altogether as she drew it away. She dropped it and returned her hands to mine, following my inexpert movements. She sighed as my finger touched her now bare nipples. I sighed with her and just left them there, her growing still underneath my touch. For a while I honestly didn't know what to do next. I was touching a girl's breasts, her nipples hard at my fingertips, her heavy breath matching mine, but what next? More feeling, more caressing? How much more? Whether to generally caress or whether to concentrate on something, presumably the nipples? I lay there, half- sitting, half-crouching, for half a minute or more. "What should I do now?" I asked naively. "I'll not be unfaithful to my fiance," she reiterated as she turned her head to me. She kissed me again, but this time it was more than a light brush, she pressed her lips to mine and opened them. I didn't respond and she drew back a little. "its ok," she said, "Its ok." It moved forward, she too, our lips meeting again, both our mouths opening this time. I felt her hands on mine, gently guiding my fingers to her nipples. When they touched she pushed her tongue past my lips. Opening wider she devoured me, moving forwards, dragging me with her; dragging me off the bed. My hands couldn't hold on to her, and we parted. She turned round to lie full length beside my roommate. She beckoned with her hand for me to join her. By now the first light of dawn was beginning to break through the thin curtains and I could see the darkness of her nipples against the whiteness of her breast. The nipples stood out firmly, rounded cylinders a quarter inch or more proud from their corrugated discs. Her body was naked apart from the modest panties, once purest white, now visibly grey at the crutch. The air filled with what was to me a strange scent. I drew it in with a deep breath. I knew not what it was, yet it made me desire her with every once of my flesh. As I watched her beckon she turned her head to kiss my roommate passionately. I felt left out, as if what I had started he was going to finish. I slumped back in my bed, frustrated and annoyed. Still her hand beckoned. She even arched her hips off the floor, spreading her legs slightly to make sure I saw her crutch. But what was the point if she was going to be faithful to her fiance? Their prolonged kiss ended, and she turned to me once more. "Come," she said, "Lay with me. Please." How could ignore the pleading of her eyes? How could I deny her? No matter that the night wouldn't end with me giving her my seed. That wasn't important after all, just being with her was. I threw the covers aside and, my underpants barely hiding my straining erection, I moved off the bed to lay beside her. She held me tight as I rolled to her. My roommate kissed her again and she drew my hand back to her far breast. With my feet touching hers I barely reached to her shoulders with my mouth, so kissing her again was out of the question, in any case my roommate had that very well in hand. As my head was so close I risked getting closer still. I put out my tongue and ran it over shoulder and chest. Down, down, down to her breast. I lingered, wondering at the beautiful consistency and give of her. Round and round the rounded rise I ran, her rippling beneath. I paused for a moment close to her disc, then moved on again. She didn't try to stop me, I took it to mean she wanted, or at least accepted, me to go further. Stopping my circuits I moved up running my tongue over her fully firm nipple. Now her hand did move to me, pressing my head firmly away. Saying "no," once more. Just like she had said "no," time and time before. I moved away, replacing my tongue with my hand. Surprisingly she said her unspoken "no," once more. This time, instead of pulling my hand up her chest she pressed it lower, leaving it on her belly. Here I felt her breathing, deep within her, more strongly. I kissed her flesh again and again, each kiss landing lower on her chest until one landed on the tip of her out stretched nipple. She arched up, seemingly to give it to me. I took it in, rounding my lips around her disc, flicking her nipple with my tongue inside my mouth. For a while I was more than content to leave my hand lying on her belly. Her breast fully occupied my attention. Maybe, I thought, she would enjoy both breasts being stimulated. I ran my hand up her belly, cupping it under her free breast for a while before running it over the nipple. It wasn't as hard or protruding than the one in my mouth, but I didn't get a chance to try to make it harder. Yet again she brought that school-mistressly hand up to chastise mine, moving it back to her belly. She held it there for a moment as she came up for air between kisses. If she didn't want it higher then maybe she wanted it lower. Surely not. Surely she could not have wanted to give that much to us? No, she said she wanted to be faithful to her fiance, and that's how it was to be. If I went between her legs then it'd all be over, wouldn't it? Before I had a chance to properly consider the question she seemed to answer it. Taking my hand in hers once again she pushed it lower, down over her navel, lower over her slight concavity, then her flesh began to rise. There she left my hand, resting in that nether land between navel and mons. My fingers lay just short of her panty waistband, just short of that which she said she would only give to her fiance. My bravado deserted me, and instead of delving under her sole remaining piece of fabric I ran my hand over the flesh of her lower torso. I caressed in an inverted U, along her belly and down each side to almost her waistband, but never over it. Never. Still she kissed with my roommate, he still in his bed, only his arms outside to hold her. At the end of on one stroke I moved my hand lower, finally passing it over the fabric of her panties. Just the side that is, down her outer thigh. She raised it to my touch with each stroke. I repeated it over and over, not daring to go further, trying to linger on her exposed flesh and not the garment. Coming away from her nipple I slumped beside her, living for the moment in the feel of her flesh. My finger caught on the fabric edge on a down stroke, and instead of forcing it down I ran it along the edge - the edge of tomorrow, the edge of heaven. She didn't complain, so emboldened once more I adjusted my hand position for the return stroke, pressing my finger clearly under her waistband, under and into her panties. I didn't touch any hair, just smooth tense, and clear skin. Her hand was there at the end of the stroke to take my hand away, back up her belly. "No," it said firmly. Was this the line in the sand? Had I gone too far, or not far enough? Just what did `unfaithful' mean? There was only one way to find out. Each time so far that she had said "no" she had said "yes" when asked a second time. Was she saying "No, don't do that," or "No, don't do that yet."? Driven by instincts deeper than any I knew I soon asked a second time. I didn't try to sneak into her panties, nor for do it `accidentally'. I simply caressed her belly and thighs for a time as before, then saying `please' under my breath, I slipped my hand down squarely pushing my fingers under the waistband. I moved it to one side, to her thigh, pushing my fingers clear under the fabric, to emerge on the other side. She kept her hand by her side. I slid my hand closer to her middle, this time I did touch hair. The hair on her head was fine and soft, I had expected that elsewhere on her body to be the same, yet it wasn't. I had expected that hair to be soft, downy wisps, yet it wasn't. It was only then that she brought her hand up to take me away. So, I had gone too far. Not in her panties. I got the message. Maybe over them? After a few strokes of her belly I slid my hand down again, this time staying outside her panties. Her hair seemed to cushion my touch now, I could almost feel every hair through the fabric. She didn't try to deny my touch. I found why the fabric had looked patchy grey - it was wet. Not just damp, not just humid, it was clearly wet. My touch elicited a flood of scent. I didn't press hard, I just skimmed the fabric, once twice, and a third time lower still, my hand slipping down between thighs that parted a little to ease its passage. Then, as was now becoming predictable she intervened again. The pattern was now as firmly established as was my erection. I would go one step further, she would say "no,", I would go back to something `safe' for a while before trying again, this time she would not resist, not complain, and not stop me, until the next time. If she really had drawn a line in the sand she had either moved it time and again, or she was prepared for it to be sidestepped. All the while I was getting that little bit bolder, that little bit more excited, that little bit closer to her. Bit by bit she was letting her guard down. Where does a young first timer go from such a position? There's little point in getting on top and humping away, assuming that her hand would have let it happen. How long had it all taken? How much longer was there to go? How far would it go? It couldn't go all the way, could it? I did what I had done all along, try to go a little bit further, a little bit lower, a little bit more intimate. After a couple of perfunctory caresses of her belly I slipped my hand down one more time, past the waistband that had been the line a little while before, past the hair that had been the line a few moments before, this time though there was no fabric to protect her, and none to hide the wetness between her legs. I pushed my hand down unrepentantly over her mons and on to her hair covered labia. She didn't move her hand. I slipped my whole hand lower, under her body. Taking the waistband of her panties with it. She did now move her hand, but only to pull her panties further down her thighs which then parted even more against force of the elastic. I was amazed at the heat given off by her. It seemed to flow from deep within, flooding out with her scent along a thin voluptuous crack. I looked down over her chest and belly. The light was now streaming in and in it her pubic hair, while coarse and hairy, lay like a field of corn. The flesh of her mons stood out clearly through it, though to the touch the hair was an impenetrable mat. Her flesh parted beneath me. Wherever the line had lain, it was now clear that we were well beyond it and that it no longer mattered to us. The air was filled with her scent that had saturated her panties and clung to her hair. It eased my finger's relentless passage. She brought her knees up, bending them. She moved her hand to mine, but not to stop me, rather to bid me wait a while as she brought her knees together as her expressive hand drew her panties down her legs. She wriggled out of them, her lips, moist and hot, writhing beneath my fingers. She flipped her remaining garment, heavy with her own lubrication, away. No doubt she meant for it to go far from us, but in its sodden glory it dropped short at the small of my back. I cherished its cooling touch. Now, unencumbered by its restrictive hold, she parted her legs fully, opening her lips to let my fingers in. Somewhat perturbed by her sudden display of abandonment I drew my hand back a little so that my longest finger's tip lay on the very topmost part of her outer lips. Pressing down I pushed it forward. It slipped down suddenly, coming to rest in what appeared to be U- shaped channel. I slipped it forwards, the flesh dragging slightly under its as yet unlubricated touch. She wrenched herself from my roommates mouth to gasp for breath. Their embrace soon began again. Now there was no question as to her stopping me. She would not, the time for that had passed and I was determined to make the most of my new found freedom to feel the most intimate parts of a woman. I had the barest knowledge of what they were all called. I did not know what had made her gasp, but I did know what I had found when, on pressing lower still, my fingers sank deep into her. That moment was very, very special, and she seemed to know it too, for as my fingers slipped joyously in the glory of her she touched me again. This time it was not my hand that she grabbed. It was something quite different. She urgently pushed my underwear aside, not that it covered much of me by that stage. I sprang out, my eager youth, no longer confined by practicalities and convention, showing for all to see. Yet no one did, not I, nor my roommate nor the beautiful woman who took it between her fingers and began stroking it furiously. This was no gentle caress, it was far harder and faster than anything I had done myself, and it all too soon brought me to my peak. I forgot what my hands were doing, I forgot everything, for here was a woman pleasuring me not because she had been asked, not that any ever had, but because she wanted to, or it seemed to me desperately needed to. My orgasm shot through me. I was transfixed - I could not breath, see, hear nor feel anything save that which was spurting out of me. Afterwards I saw the dawn through a red haze. I snuggled close to her as she continued to stroke me for a few moments until it was clear that my passion was spent in the damp runnels on her side. When I recovered I felt a new motion, but it wasn't mine. It was regular and rhythmic. My roommate's hand had replaced me as I came. His palm pressed firmly on her mons while two of his fingers penetrated her powerfully and rhythmically. My touch had been tentative and exploratory, his had only one aim - to make her come, and as quickly as possible. The sight and sounds in the early morning quickly rebuilt my erection. I reached for her hand, the one that had taken me so quickly. I urged her to stroke me again. She was unsure at first, her hand feeling my partial hardness until it firmed into a full erection. She pumped me at her frantic pace, fully two strokes to my roommates one within her. This time I didn't come quickly, or even at all. Her hand was not enough. I tried stroking her breast, and then licking and sucking at the nipple once more, but it still wasn't enough to lift me all the way. I knew what I needed, I needed to feel her once more, to savour her fluidity, her fullness, her heat and her tightness. She kept up her pounding, then wordlessly it slowed and stopped, yet she didn't let go, she just tightened her already iron grip. Something overtook her. Her cries, if she needed to make any, were swallowed by my roommate. She didn't seem to grow stiff, nor arch her back, the only sign that she was coming was that she stopped stroking me. After a few seconds I took her hand and pumped it, showing her what I needed. She took my lead, and her rate slowly increased. Still I couldn't come. Why I needed to once more, and so soon, I really don't know, I was just something I had to do. I wriggled my underwear off. As she kept up her assault. Then, now as free as she was, I twined one of my legs around hers. She stopped, brought her hand to me again, pressing my side, showing the way she wanted me to go. Off her, away from her? No, on to her. She parted her legs enough to take mine between. She pressed me firmly. I lifted my other leg over hers. Now, with both legs between hers there was nothing to prevent what was to happen. She took my trembling firmness in her hand and drew me to her. She wriggled a moment to adjust her position, then she drew me forward. My thighs pressed on hers, warm, damp and sticky. She let go and moved her hand behind me, pulling me on to her. My first touch was on her hairs, my tip slipping through her mat. She pressed on me to withdraw and try again. I did, this time I pressed too high again, though less so. My head pressing, not uncomfortably for either of us, into the top of her parting folds. The third time she grasped my root firmly, holding me down and straight as I pressed forwards. I pressed my hands to the floor on either side of her. My roommate finally stopping his kissing, letting her give herself to me completely. She lifted her head to mine and kissed me again, fully once more. As her tongue entered my mouth she pulled on my root. We contacted. I held tight to feel the heat and lust mingling with the scent and slip of her lubrication. Her folds, already flushed with blood from one coming, were full and beginning to dry on the outside. Under my probing head she was still full and fully wet. I did not know it but she was as ready as any woman can be. What I also did not know was that she had been since I had first touched her breasts. From that moment on, she later confided, it had not been a question of if we were to make love, it was one of when. When was then, there on the floor of that room, with my roommate lying beside me and my first partner underneath me. It was morning now, a new day, and it seemed the perfect moment for a new life to begin - mine, my full sexual life. The tightness in my head grew almost unbearable. She ended our kiss and looked into my frightened eyes, "Don't be afraid. I won't bite. It's ok, you can take me. Please," she said, "Please fuck me." A girl had actually said please, she actually wanted me to make love to her, she wanted me! She grasped me firmly, I pressed forwards and entered a fraction. She opened around me easily. My roommate's fingers had made her very accommodating. "Enter me all the way. Now! Please!" My sensations swam round my head. My heart pounded, my firmness ached; her body heaved up to me. I thrust in firmly, slipping all the way into her in one smooth, solid motion. She gasped, closing her eyes as she exhaled. She threw her head back and tried to draw her feet back, bringing her knees higher. Our flesh and hair joined, our heat became one. I felt her bearing down on me within, tightening around me with each breath. For a second I thought I could feel her heartbeat within her. I tried to withdraw, but her hand, on my buttocks now, forced me back. Her breath shuddered through her in short bursts. I tried to withdraw again, again her hand forced me back in a short, stabbing thrust. She locked her legs around me to prevent me from with drawing again, but it was a position she couldn't maintain for long, or could she? In tiny spasms she worked on me within her. I couldn't feel anything specific, all I could feel was an all-encompassing intensity that centred loosely in my groin. I did, and couldn't, know what she was feeling, I could barely feel her fingernails pressed hard into my buttocks, and her legs locked tightly around me. I did feel I wanted to come inside her, I knew I had to, that that was what I was here to do and that was what I felt I would soon do if she would only allow me to thrust. She kissed me again, this time she didn't thrust her tongue at me; instead with open mouth she invited me to do it to her. I did, gently at first, then faster and deeper before parting. Had I managed to convey my meaning as well as her hand had hers? She lessened the pressure from her legs, and moved her hand from my buttocks to my hips. There she could guide rather than force. She dropped her legs back to the floor. I pulled back, and to her sigh I slipped from her depths. I withdrew until only my head nestled between her warm lips. I paused there for a moment, finding her nipple with my own lips. I flicked at it for a moment, wriggling my hips in an attempt at teasing her. Then I sank on to her nipple, devouring it, sucking into my mouth. A thrust forwards, into her deeply once more. She struggled to accommodate me only for me to withdraw once more. Barely had she closed around me than I thrust in fully once more. I repeated the motion, thrust after thrust, all the while continuing my licking and sucking on her breast and its delicious nipple. She gasped at each of my thrusts, each gasp a little deeper and sharper than the last. Had I not already come I'd not have lasted to give her even one of the thrusts, yet as it was I could repeat it over and over, each time she grew wilder, more abandoned. I felt an intrusion between us. I slowed and shallowed my thrusts as I tried to work out what it was. She felt my unease and through her gasps reassured me. "It's ok. I need more, that's all." It was my roommate's hand, it's fingers drawn there by her hand. They pressed between the tops of her lips, rubbing her aching flesh between. I picked up the speed and force of my thrusts, pressing her back to the floor with each movement. I felt the beginnings of my seed and spurred on with the thought of leaving her filled with it, thrust even faster. It was still nowhere near as fast as she had pumped me, but it was more than fast enough to bring me to the brink. "Its soon," I said. "No!" she shouted, "No! You mustn't! Please no!" I suppose she had thought that because I had already come I couldn't again so soon. She had nearly been right. It was her beauty and her hand that had made it possible. Now, on the verge of completing my desire she wanted me to stop. I couldn't, it was too late. "Please. I need to come in you. Now! please!" Her head snapped back and I felt a new wave of sensation flow from her. "Oh God! Yes!" That pushed me over, and with one instinctive full- length thrust I dived into her as deeply as I could. Starting deep inside my loins a bubble grew, forming a rapidly expanding ball, hard and unstoppable. A tightness at first, it grew and rose until it threatened to fill me entirely. Then, at the point of ripping me apart, it rushed into the tip of my firmness and exploded out. With it went all my senses. For all that it felt like, there can't actually have been much come, I only felt two really strong spasms: the first blast, a second pulse and a couple of weaker aftershocks. But as little as there was, it went into her right where nature intended. Foolishly, I felt I was a man at last. When she finally came down she held on to me tightly, her legs around me locking me to her once more as I softened within her. When eventually released me I rolled off her. By the time I snuggled up to her again she was strangely still and silent. She was asleep, and within minutes we all were. She never told me her full story of that night - of why she did it, why she let me break down every barrier that her hand had put up. When I expressed my anxiety that she might be pregnant by me she did tell me that her period had started on time a week later, and that she was on the pill in any case. She also told me that maybe she had wondered if the rumours of our homosexuality were true. Now she knew they were not, and that despite that, we did indeed do everything together. It turned out that by `being unfaithful' she meant letting someone else come inside her, and that her then limited medical training had not prepared her for the clumsy, urgent and unstoppable determination of my first-time. She did marry of course, but not her one-time fiance, nor me or even my roommate. I suspect that in the days that followed they did make love too, but alone and without me, at least I think they probably did. He, for his part, didn't marry his girlfriend either. For all of us those now distant university relationships are long gone; a part, though an important one of course, of our growing up. I still wonder about that night. It is her that I normally think of as I pleasure myself, generally on fantasises of tasting her glorious juices, which I now know I should have done instead of penetrating her but being young I didn't think of it at the time, and even now wish I had. I still, some twenty years later, have a strong feeling of unfinished business. I wonder if, one day, we'll meet again. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+