by Michael K. Smith
[From Chapter 7; set 1973; he's 18, she's 17.]
[NOTE: If you went to Berkeley when
I did -- before 1973, actually, way back when tuition was still free --
you'll note some minor name changes and geographical rearrangements. Call
it poetic license. The other three main characters are based more or less
loosely on people I knew rather well . . . though not so well as in this
installment. But if any of you guys recognize yourselves, drop me a line!]
In April of my senior year, I was accepted at UC-Berkeley, pending my final grades. Cal was always my first -- practically my only -- choice and I would have been crushed had I *not* been admitted. But I knew my grades and interviews were far more than adequate, so I wasn't unduly nervous about it. Going to Cal was a tradition. Our family, or various combinations of its members, had been making the run down to the Bay Area, less than a hundred miles to the south, five or six times a year for as long as I could remember.
I knew the Berkeley campus pretty well, the bookstores and hang-outs along Telegraph, the view from the hills above the campus, . . . and I had long been infatuated with the Golden Gate, and Muir Woods, and Sausalito, and Telegraph Hill, and Golden Gate Park, and-- well, anything and everything about S.F. and the Bay. Alex felt much the same way but it took me a few days to understand why she wasn't as pleased as I was about my acceptance. That was embarrassing -- that I had ignored the obvious fact that my going off to school would separate us for the first time in our lives.
It seemed easy enough when I first considered it. It wasn't like I was going off to Harvard or Columbia. I would be only a couple hours' drive away and we would be seeing each other regularly. And it was a given that Alex would attend Cal as well.
But then it began to sink in: She wouldn't be there in the morning in that ratty tee shirt, brushing her teeth with her hair in her eyes. She wouldn't be kissing me good night before going to bed. No soft, warm body to snuggle up to. No private jokes to laugh at and puzzle our parents and friends with. No simple, comforting presence for either of us when we needed psychological support. No more Upstairs. That would be the worst part -- a whole year without my closest companion, my very best friend. I certainly couldn't call home every day just to talk to Alex; eyebrows would be raised and neither of us could afford it anyway.
As the day approached when I would have to leave for freshman orientation, my mental turmoil grew. I was both excited and apprehensive about starting college and I was growing increasingly depressed about leaving Alex behind. As it turned out, she accompanied me down to Berkeley instead of our folks. Dad had to fly to L.A. for an unexpected business meeting and Mother's arthritis was especially bad. Both of them were sincerely apologetic, but I was delighted. My sister would have to drive down with me to bring the car back.
Alex pretended to barely manage to conceal
her annoyance at having to perform this chore, for our folks' benefit;
she laughed delightedly when we got back Upstairs and kissed me energetically.
We would have a few more hours together after all.
That Friday morning in early August, we crammed the last of my stuff into the station wagon and set off. And as soon as we got past the city limits, Alex had me stop at a Dairy Queen. I wondered what she was up to when she disappeared into the restroom with her duffel bag purse over her shoulder, but I should have guessed. Sure enough, when she returned her jeans and sweatshirt had been replaced by a low-slung pair of tight, very short cutoffs and a high-cropped tee shirt; her bra had also disappeared and her fiery hair was pulled back in a bouncy ponytail.
When she entered the place, she'd gotten a glance or two from the regulars; when she left, heads swivelled on all sides and I'm sure several male shins were booted by female feet.
Back on the road, Alex cuddled up to me, an arm around my neck and a hand caressing my crotch. It wasn't easy to concentrate on my driving. After a few miles, she grinned and lay down on the seat, out of sight of other drivers, and slowly unzipped my jeans. Her warm hand prowled around inside my shorts until my cock was ready to escape its confines all by itself. Then she popped it out and stroked the shaft lightly with her finger tips.
"Jeez, Alex!" I squirmed -- I couldn't help it.
"What do you want me to do, Michael?" She put her cheek against my thigh, almost under the steering wheel, and continued to torture the head of my cock. She wanted explicit instructions: We both found that very erotic at times.
"Suck on my penis, Alexandra. Get as much of it in your mouth as you can. Fuck your mouth with my cock until I come, and swallow *all* of it. Don't lose a drop -- it'll have to hold us both for awhile." I flipped up the bottom of her tee shirt to expose one perfect breast, which I cupped and squeezed gently.
She inhaled my organ in one slurp and it slid down her throat. Her lovely lips teased my pubic hair. Then she began pumping slowly, sliding the shaft wetly in and out and squeezing my balls. I tugged and squeezed her breast in the same rhythm, stretching her nipple like I was trying for milk. Alex's other hand moved between her legs and rubbed the crotch seam of her shorts; I knew she wore no panties. It was too bad I had to keep one hand on the wheel, I thought, as I sucked in between my teeth.
The drive to the beginning of the populated areas on the north side of the Bay only took about ninety minutes and Alex consumed more than half of that working slowly and surely on my cock. I neared orgasm several times, but she immediately backed off until I had subsided a little.
"Alex," I pleaded, "have a heart! We've going to have to stop this in a few minutes. If you don't finish me off pretty soon I'm going to be physically trapped behind this wheel!"
She laughed around the cock filling her mouth -- a strange sensation -- and went to work again. But this time she pulled out all the stops, plunging up and down, tugging at my balls, and making whimpering sounds in the back of her throat. In less than a minute, I came like a geyser, shooting what felt like pints of semen down my sister's throat. Her Adam's apple bobbed as she swallowed and tightened her mouth around the base of my cock, pushing it in as far as she could. She had mastered the technique, and it never failed to empty my reservoir. Then she slowly disengaged, her squeezing hand just behind her moving lips, sucking the last drop from my twitching penis. She stroked with her hand a few more times and sucked strongly on the head, and she poked the tip of her little tongue into the small hole to tease out the last drops of juice. She really *didn't* lose a drop.
She zipped me up as we headed for the off-ramp, and smoothed back her hair and adjusted her skimpy shirt. She knew what I was thinking, too.
"You wanted to fuck, didn't you?" She smiled
longingly. "There'll be lots of other times for that, Michael. This was
my present to you." Then she playfully poked her tongue in my ear and the
car nearly went into the ditch.
I knew where Sutter Tower was and I already had my room assignment. At least it was one of the newer dorms, a ten-story high-rise, and I was in a four-man suite on the eighth floor. Freshmen, apparently, were "exiled" to the upper floors because of the longer wait at the elevator, but I preferred being higher up, hopefully with a view.
Parents and friends milled around the Sutter parking lot, helping students haul their gear up to their rooms. Returning students waved and hollered at friends, and small children got in everyone's way.
As I eased into a parking space, Alex peered out the back window and then suddenly turned back to me. "Michael! I just thought of something!" She gripped the arm I was trying to turn the wheel with. "I don't want to be your sister down here -- okay? I want to be your girlfriend. Your *steady* girl." I'm sure I gave her an odd look because she gestured vaguely to the milling crowd. "I don't want to have to spend all my time beating *them* off. And you *know* that's what would happen. And no one knows us down here!"
She smiled and I knew she was right: It was bees-and-honey time with her around, especially when she was dressed like that. I reached out and touched the pearl ring on her right finger; I'd given it to her for Christmas because, to me, the pearl symbolized the shiny, wet little bud at the heart of her.
"That ring means we're going *very* steady, then." She nodded. "And it'll be nice for you to be only my best girl *somewhere*. We won't have to pretend -- if we're careful." She glowed and squeezed my hand.
Alex climbed out and rubbernecked while I went back and opened the tailgate. During the ten seconds that required, at least half a dozen guys homed in on her. "Are you a freshman?" "What's your major?" "What dorm are you in?" Alex gave them all a brilliant smile; whatever she might say, she still loved attention and flattery, at least up to a point. I slid my arm around her bare waist and she stuck one hand in my back pocket; the message was obvious but I made it as friendly as I could.
"Sorry, guys, but the lady is spoken for. I'm the new one here; she has another year of high school to go. My name's Smith, by the way: Mike Smith." I stuck out my hand and they all shook it. I looked at my sister. Keep it simple, I thought. "This is Alex -- Alex Smith, as a matter of fact, but that's just a coincidence. She's a very distant cousin." They were much quicker to shake her hand.
Then I excused the two of us so we could lug my gear up to my room. A couple of the loiterers promptly volunteered to help, no doubt drawn by Alex's long legs and skimpy shirt. That was okay with me, if it helped get my footlocker and assorted cartons up to the eighth floor, because it took forever to get an elevator. One of the guys mentioned that it was much easier to haul stuff up the stairwell three or four flights, and then catch an elevator there. Alex played the game, too, wiggling her ass a little on the stairs for the benefit of our ad hoc porters.
The rooms in Sutter Tower were smaller than I had hoped but actually larger than I had expected: Two guys in a room about the size of my large bedroom at home, sharing a small bathroom with two more guys on the other side. The older dorms, I knew, had communal "Shit, shave, and shower" facilities at each end of each floor.
Parents and returning students swarmed over the building and I saw a number of other whispered conversations in which couples were obviously making arrangements to meet once their families had left. It was going to be a long year.
There were already boxes stacked on one of the beds, so my roommate apparently was around someplace. We met on the third and last trip upstairs. Alex and I were alone, our volunteers having departed at their own floors.
A rather small guy who looked about sixteen stood in the middle of the room with a 12-inch black and white TV under one arm, scanning the built-in shelves for a place to hook it up. He turned to greet me as I dumped the last carton on the floor and sat on the bed to catch my breath. He put out his free hand and introduced himself as Gary Ivy, of Seattle. Then Alex entered the room with shirts on coat hangers slung over her shoulder, and his tongue seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth. Alex smiled at him under her lashes and arched her back. She was really enjoying this! When I introduced her as "my girl," Gary nearly dropped his TV in his hurry to shake her hand.
"You're both named 'Smith'?"
"Coincidence. There're a lot of Smiths around." I could see this was going to become a stock explanation. Well, that also made it sound more credible, in a left-handed sort of way.
Gary went looking for an extension cord and I had a few last minutes alone with my sister. I nuzzled her throat and she squeezed the nape of my neck. There really wasn't anything more that needed to be said. We both knew just how much we would miss each other's casual but daily presence.
"I love you, Michael," she said softly, and swallowed.
"Alex, I love you more than anything in the world." It was difficult to speak around the growing lump in my throat and I was blinking back tears. It felt like we were saying farewell forever instead of goodbye for a few weeks. "I'll walk you down to the car," I added.
"No -- I'd just cry all the way downstairs." She touched my cheek just as Gary came back into the room; he glanced at us and discretely turned his back as I kissed Alex for what would be the last time for an unbearable three months. Then she grabbed her purse and hurried out of the room. I folded my arms and stared at the floor, willing myself not to cry.
Gary had been fishing behind his bed for the electrical outlet. Now he sat up on the bed and smiled tentatively. "Very nice," he said admiringly.
I gave him a look that could only be interpreted as "Watch it." I wasn't in the mood to deal with smartass remarks.
He shrugged. "Hey, man, I was just complimenting you on your taste in girlfriends."
He was right and I was being oversensitive, taking offense where there was none. "Yeah, I know -- sorry about that," I replied apologetically, and sighed. "But we've been together for quite awhile now, and I'm really going to miss seeing her everyday." I sighed again and Gary nodded in sympathy.
"I assume that means you won't be dating? More for me, I guess."
I smiled; Alex and I had discussed this at some length. "No, I'll be dating all right -- and so will she. But just socially, and for sex. Neither of us could be celibate for three days in a row . . . but sex isn't the same as love."
My new roommate raised an eyebrow and then
shrugged again. "Well, it should be an interesting experiment, anyway."
He said it straightfaced but with a snap in his glance that made me grin.
Maybe we'd get along after all.
That first week, the campus was mostly freshmen being herded from classroom to dorm to library to the stadium to orientation meetings. We all knew we'd better be able to hit the ground running when classes began, but we were also getting tired and bored listening to memorized lectures from equally bored grad students, and from reading handouts. A couple of times I was able to sit next to some nice-looking girl or other, and I got return smiles, but that was all.
The last two days, we divided up by college or professional school and the groups were much smaller. We paid closer attention, too. Even if you changed your major, you generally stayed in the same school -- engineering, or fine arts, or whatever.
I was starting out as a history major. What I *thought* I wanted to be, at that early point, was an archaeologist. But I knew what a long haul that would be, so I wasn't going to limit my options too severely. Geology for my lab science, German for my language, advanced placement English Comp, U.S. history (which I had to have anyway), and Art History -- which would be a less demanding class (I hoped) and was also appropriate for archaeology. And P.E., which was swimming, naturally, to be replaced by track in the spring. If my other grades were good enough, I intended to try out for junior varsity in both sports.
Gary, I discovered, was a fledgling journalist. "Print, not television," he always added. Having been active in journalism myself my last two years of high school, I understood what an iffy career *he* was letting himself in for. Journalism was almost as tough as show business when it came to making a living. And he managed to get into bowling for his P.E. requirement -- the least athletic sport he could find, I thought, until I found he had brought along his own well-worn bowling ball and a couple of small but impressive trophies. I discovered he was a pretty fair swimmer, too, though he was too small for competition.
Freshmen were pre-registered so I had very
little say about my class schedule. I was pleased to get swimming at 8:00
in the morning; I was an early riser when I had reason to be. Too bad P.E.
Geology lab took up most of Wednesday afternoon and that was where I finally lucked out. I had spotted an interesting little blonde with bright blue eyes and long lashes the very first day of lecture and I made a point of grabbing a seat in the same row. It turned out there were only three girls among the forty students in my lab section, and I had gotten one of them. The graduate T.A. in charge of the lab section told us to sit where we wanted to stay for the rest of the term so he could make up a chart. The other two girls obviously were already buddies and grabbed one of the two-person lab tables for themselves. The little blonde looked around uncertainly; two or three male students were bearing down on her with fixed grins.
I appeared at her elbow, smiled, and said politely, "Would you care to join me? I think you're about to be 'sharked'."
At that point, one of the sharks made up her mind by leering down at her. "Hey, babe, why doncha work at my table? I can tell you *all* about rocks. . . ."
She shot him a distasteful glare and set her books on the thick, black work surface beside mine. I introduced myself and held out my hand. She shook it carefully. "I'm Marta Petersen," she added a bit shyly. Then she moved around to the other side of the lab table and climbed up on the stool.
I nodded, took my own seat, and turned my full attention to the T.A., who was beginning to drone. I took notes, Marta took notes, and we paid no further attention to each other -- not overtly, anyway. And at the end of the lab session, I turned back to her as if by afterthought and said "See you next Wednesday!" She smiled and gave me a little half-wave. It was a start.
Just outside the dorm that first Wednesday, I found Gary standing under a tree in animated conversation with a small, slender, serious-looking female with short black hair. The girl had two cameras draped across the front of her "Washington Post" sweatshirt like bandoliers. A large gadget bag was propped against her shin. I caught my roommate's eye and he grinned moronically and motioned me over. When he introduced us I could have sworn for a moment that he said the girl's name was "Alex" . . . and my mind seized up. An instant later I realized it was "Alice" -- Alice DiNotti. I hoped neither of them had noticed my reaction.
"She's a photographer," Gary added happily. As if I hadn't noticed.
"Photojournalist," she corrected him. "Print, not television."
Of course, I thought. "Nice to meet you," I said and she nodded slightly, very businesslike. Her demeanor didn't seem to go with her delicate, pretty face and her smooth Mediterranean complexion.
"I'm going on up; see you at supper," I added for Gary's benefit. He didn't even hear me, his attention being refocused on Alice the Photojournalist. Smitten, obviously.
Gary and Alice went everywhere together after that -- at first, always apparently involved in intense discussion, but later holding hands and exchanging long, meaningful gazes. I suspected neither of them had had many romantic involvements in high school. One could never tell whether something like this would become permanent but I was happy for them, since they were so obviously happy for themselves.
Meanwhile, I was taking my time becoming better acquainted with Marta Petersen. We had ended up sitting three seats apart in the lecture hall and by the sixth week of the term the two intervening seats were empty, their occupants having dropped the course. I moved one seat closer to Marta; the next session, I was delighted when she moved over into the remaining seat, next to me.
In the first four or five weekly lab sessions,
we had mutually and gradually broken the ice. I was careful to remain pleasant
and casually friendly, and not to come on to her at all, so her defenses
quickly relaxed. We now chatted amiably in lab while waiting for an experiment
to cook. And though we sometimes hunched over the microscope shoulder to
shoulder, her long, fine hair brushing my hand as I took notes on her observations
of mineralization, I restrained my growing lust.
By mid-October, I had developed the habit of strolling down Telegraph Avenue one afternoon a week. It was a fascinating place. Every kind of shop you could imagine -- and blanket vendors on the curb selling goods I would *never* have imagined. The Sixties were dead and gone, but these folks would never admit it. Telegraph was the place to meet people, and to be seen, as well: Berkeley's own Casbah.
One Friday I was working my way downslope, admiring handmade sandals and amber jewelry, and carved wooden figures being created on the spot by an intent young man wielding a Barlow knife. I felt a finger poke me lightly in the back as I stood watching the woodcarver and moved over a few inches, to get out of someone's way. But then the finger prodded me again in the same spot and I felt a body very close behind me. Now what?
I peered over my shoulder in time to see a familiar blonde head, six inches shorter than me, sidling quickly the other way. The finger poked me on the opposite side, but I was expecting it this time. I whipped my hand around behind my back and grabbed the culprit by the wrist -- and was rewarded with a startled squeak.
"Tsk, tsk," I chided as I hauled the hand and its owner around in front of me. "Assaulting innocent bystanders . . ." Marta laughed and tested my grip; I was holding her wrist just tightly enough to prevent her escape. I smiled and drew my other forefinger lightly across the palm of her hand. Her fingers writhed and her eyes stared into mine.
"You want me to faint right here in the street?" I had never heard that low, smoky tone in her voice before. I took her fingers one at a time and carefully interlaced them with mine while she watched with interest. When I raised a questioning eyebrow at her, she exclaimed brightly, "Hey, they fit!" And we strolled off down the sidewalk, hand in hand.
I didn't know what had brought Marta out of her shell, but coming on to me like that, as playful as it was, just didn't seem like her. I kept glancing at her out of the corner of my eye as we walked, appreciating the swing of that long, fine hair and noticing how her lashes seemed even thicker out here in the daylight. She looked at me looking at her and smiled again, obviously pleased with my reaction to her. Those large, cornflower-blue eyes crinkled and I nearly tripped over a crack in the sidewalk.
My question was answered before I asked it. Looking straight ahead, she said, "You're wondering where I came from, aren't you? I confess: I followed you."
"You *followed* me?"
"I saw you in the plaza. You were headed out the gate like you had time to kill, . . . so I just followed along, to see where you were going."
"The real question is, why would you *care* where I was going? I mean, I don't mind being--" (I almost said "tailed" and barely caught it) "--followed by someone so pretty . . . but why me?" That was the first bit of flattery I had tried on her, but Marta seemed not to notice. Instead, she gave me a thoughtful, speculative look.
"I've been thinking about you, Mike. I'm not sure why -- maybe because you've been nice to me in lab. You haven't tried to hit on me or anything. I know you know I'm around because I've seen you watching me. But you've been such a gentleman, I began to wonder *why* you've been so polite."
"You have a devious mind," I announced, and nodded solemnly. Marta actually blushed a delicate pink.
"Well," she said after a moment, "I was kinda thinking about asking you for a date." She let go of my hand and linked her arm through mine. "That wouldn't bother you, would it?"
I grinned down at her. "Wouldn't bother me a bit. Actually, I was planning to ask *you* out. I just wanted us to get acquainted first. So: Where or what did you have in mind?"
"The Student Union is sponsoring a performance of 'Romeo and Juliet' tomorrow night -- and I love Shakespeare! I told you: I'm an English lit major," she added, "but I hate to go to plays or movies alone."
"Hey, that sounds great! I like Shakespeare, too -- but I've only seen a couple of plays live. 'Hamlet' and 'Midsummer Night's Dream', in high school. Are you sure they'll still have tickets?"
"One of my English profs handed out free tickets and the girl next to me gave me hers, since she couldn't go. So-- I have the tickets."
"Good." I nodded. She hadn't actually asked me for a date -- only said she was thinking about it. So I said nothing more.
After a moment, Marta nudged me. "Well?"
I tried to respond with a blank look and almost managed it. "Well, what?"
She stopped walking and sighed with exaggerated patience. "Would you like to go to the theater with me tomorrow night, Mike?"
I grinned. "Yes, I'd like to very much, and thank you for asking me."
"Jerk," she laughed and I felt that elbow again.
Working our way another few blocks down
Telegraph, crossing the street and strolling back up the other side to
the campus, we spent a very enjoyable afternoon chatting about what we
saw around us -- since we both were new Berkeley residents -- and by the
time we parted in front of her dorm, Marta and I seemed to have established
the beginnings of a new relationship.
Shakespeare was terrific and so were the actors. Marta really got into the emotion of the thing, twining her arm through mine and covertly wiping away tears when Juliet knocked herself off. I was taken with her slightly sheepish sentimentality. From someone else, it might have seemed silly and adolescent, but from Marta it was somehow attractive. It embarrassed her, too -- which I also found oddly attractive. She blushed and ducked her head when I smiled and handed her my handkerchief. Her long hair curtained her face, making her appear even more demure.
We stopped on the walk back from the campus theater and had a coke at the Union, companionably reviewing the play. I stretched out my hand on the table between us, tapping each finger on the formica as I argued some point or other. Marta derailed the conversation by placing her hand on top of mine and lightly drawing her nails across the tendons. The skin crawled pleasurably on the back of my hand. We locked gazes for a solid minute before we got up and left without either of us saying another word. We held hands and took turns squeezing.
When we reached her dorm, I would have kissed her goodnight and left it at that; even though it was now dark, there was still too much light and too much traffic to attempt anything else. The dorms were still single-sex back then, so we had no place else to go . . . I thought. But Marta smiled and led me off to a clump of fir trees around the side of the building. Two couples were already snuggling in the shadows under the thick branches, but there was room for us. All of us simply ignored the presence of the others.
Marta turned to face me and raised her arms around my neck, pressing herself close. I kissed her, slowly and gently, and she closed her eyes and sighed. It felt good to kiss a girl like that -- an uncomplicated sharing of pleasure in each other's company, an exploration of another's physical presence. I slid one hand up and down her back, feeling her shoulderblades and vertebrae under my fingers. She hummed in her throat and fitted herself to me.
Instinctively, I stopped short of her ass, not wanting to push my luck . . . but Marta let me know she was willing to do more than kiss, by taking my hand and placing it firmly on her breast. I cupped the soft mound and squeezed lightly and her grip on my neck tightened. Her tongue flew into my mouth and her knee inserted itself between my thighs. Now my cock was pushing against the front of my chinos -- throbbing against Marta's abdomen, actually, so she certainly had to be aware of my reaction to her.
I wanted very much to feel her naked body against mine, to suck on her nipples, to tease her asshole with my forefinger . . . but I wasn't going to experience any of that tonight, so I contented myself with raising Marta's sexual pitch under the trees. Maybe she'd masturbate tonight when she went to bed, and think of me.
I knew I was getting to her when she parted her knees and pushed her crotch against my thigh. I pushed back and she clung tightly to me. When we finally broke our clinch we were both out of breath and red in the face.
And as we walked hand in hand the dozen yards back to her dorm's front door, she said in a low, conversational tone, "Mike, I really want to fuck you . . ." I had to replay that to be sure of what I had heard -- she was so nonchalant about it. If she was trying to startle me, she succeeded. I just looked at her sidelong and she wet her lips and smiled again.
"I'll see what I can arrange," I replied, after clearing my throat twice. The old saying about "still waters" certainly seemed to apply to Marta.
When I mentioned to Gary the next day, in confidence, that I was in need of a place to take Marta where we could have some privacy, he laughed knowingly.
"Funny you should say that. Alice has been working on getting us a place where *we* can be alone together." He looked thoughtful. "She doesn't live on campus, you know. She's from Fresno, but she has a married cousin over in Sausalito who she's living with, to keep her expenses down. The cousin will be out of town starting this Friday -- her husband, too. Alice will have the house all to herself, she says. . . ." His tongue moved in one cheek. "Maybe we could use a couple of chaperons. I don't think Alice would mind -- and she says it's a pretty big house. Lots of room. No next-door neighbors, either, because it's up on the hillside."
How could I refuse an invitation like that? "Gary, we'll be the most invisible chaperons you were ever saddled with! Thanks a lot, man. Uh, are you sure this would be okay with Alice. . . ?"
Gary grinned. "Actually, *she* suggested I invite you two along; you just beat me to it. You think maybe she doesn't completely trust me?" He chuckled at the thought.
"Or think about this," I replied. "Maybe she doesn't trust *herself!*" I grinned back at him. This could be an interesting weekend.
Marta was delighted when I told her about the arrangements, especially when she realized we could stay overnight. Why had I ever thought this girl was shy? She got a mischievous look when I commented that Gary's girlfriend seemed to want someone else around for *her* protection. I doubted our presence would be inhibitive, nor did Marta.
"We'll just have to loosen up ol' Alice, won't we?" she laughed.
I had wondered how we were going to get over to Marin, but Alice and Gary had thought of that, too. Alice's cousin had left her car behind and Alice drove it to class that Friday. After classes were over at 4:00, Alice showed up in the dorm parking lot. Gary, who had been watching out the window for her, said excitedly, "She's here!" -- and he and I thundered down eight flights of the stairwell with our gym bags. (Wanting not to appear too obvious, we decided not to take suitcases. Besides, with any luck, we wouldn't be needing that many changes of clothing.) We piled into the car, me in the back seat, and bopped over the three blocks to Marta's dorm. She was in the foyer watching for us and was headed down the walk before Alice had even come to a full stop. Marta, I noticed, also carried an athletic bag.
She hopped in next to me and I introduced her to Gary -- they had nodded once but hadn't been properly introduced -- and he introduced her to Alice. Marta turned on the charm, which she had in abundance, giving Gary a brilliant smile that left him blinking and then squeezing Alice's shoulder in comradely fashion while thanking her profusely for inviting the two of us along. Alice smiled back -- the first time I had seen her quite lovely smile, since she always seemed such an intent, serious person. Her whole face changed and I could see why Gary was smitten for other than purely journalistic reasons. Then Marta leaned back and I put my arm around her, and she snuggled in close. She was small enough to tuck her head under my chin and she made a warm, cozy armful. I noticed that Gary had slid his arm around Alice's shoulders and was whispering in her ear. Her shoulders rose a little and her head tilted toward his; I wondered which of them was hornier.
It took almost two hours plowing through Friday rush-hour traffic to get across the Bay Bridge to the City, around past the Ferry Building and North Beach to the Presidio, and across the Golden Gate. It was a good thing our driver had done this so many times before and knew exactly where she was going. True to her tough exterior, Alice was an aggressive driver, but a very skillful one.
Her cousin's house was perched up on a hillside overlooking the houseboats. It was a really lovely old place, heavily renovated and obviously expensive, and to my delight there was a modest redwood hot tub on a sheltered deck. Alice had wisely left the heater on (it takes many hours to reheat a cold hot tub) and the rising tendrils of steam were most inviting. Gary and I exchanged a glance. "After dinner," he said, and I nodded enthusiastically.
All four of us banged around the kitchen, sharing the preparation of a meal that any college student knows how to make almost instinctively: spaghetti. Ground meat, tomato sauce, mushrooms, garlic, oregano, and black olives -- pour in a little olive oil and boil the pasta al dente. (I was interested to note that Alice's Italian surname didn't seem to affect her cooking style much; too busy behind the lens, probably.) Add a rapidly tossed green salad, a long loaf of sourdough bread and a couple bottles of cheap red wine, and you're set.
The formal dining room seemed daunting, so we ate sprawled around the older furniture in the family room. We took our time, chatting about school work, and how different Berkeley was from everywhere else, and generally becoming familiarized. Marta and Alice had never really met before that afternoon's introductions, and Alice and I were only barely acquainted. Marta was a full-time extrovert, though, when she felt secure and among friends. Much of Alice's often daunting demeanor was defensive, I discovered; for a wannabe journalist, she was surprisingly shy. But the relaxed company, the prospects of sex, and the wine all combined to loosen everyone's inhibitions.
At one point, Gary gave his girlfriend a smoldering look. "You don't know how long I've waited for someone like you to come along, Alice." He put out his arms and made clutching motions. "And now you're all mine!"
Alice made an effort to sit up straight and peer down her nose at him. "I don't belong to anyone," she retorted, and stood up unsteadily. Setting her glass down, she marched over to me and plunked down in my lap, like a schoolgirl going to see Santa at a department store. Gary looked surprised, Marta giggled, and I was rather startled. Alice almost succeeded in putting on a serious expression, carefully cleared her throat, and draped an arm around my neck.
"So," she asked, "what kind of journalism do *you* do?" She sputtered a bit, trying to keep from cracking up.
I looked her slowly up and down, head to toe. She was enjoying teasing Gary and her eyes twinkled. She was really very pretty, with that smooth, light brown skin, slender limbs and figure, competent-looking hands with tapering fingers, and shiny black hair and eyebrows. Her eyes were a deep blue and her lips were full and inviting. But I managed not to make a fool of myself, nor an enemy of my roommate.
"Well, . . ." I replied judiciously, "right now I feel like I'm doing a tabloid. . . ." Marta rolled her eyes and laughed in delight. Gary cackled and nearly choked on his wine. And little Alice collapsed against my chest in a fit of mild hysteria. Everything seems funnier when you're half-gassed. So I grinned like an idiot and gave Alice a quick, friendly hug. And then I urged her off my lap before one of us embarrassed the other.
Alice tottered over and collapsed beside Gary, still laughing. He slipped his arm around her and kissed her on the ear, and then grinned and winked at me. I was relieved he wasn't the jealous type.
I stood up and said "I think we're ready for the hot tub; we need to sweat out this alcohol." I unbuttoned my shirt as I spoke. Marta immediately hopped up and unzipped her skirt, letting it fall in a heap around her bare feet. Her pale yellow panties peeked out from beneath her shirttail. Her style was so easy that Gary stood and also began to undress without missing a beat.
Alice looked at me (down to my shorts), at Marta (shirt off and reaching behind for her bra hook), and at Gary (pushing down his jeans). Then she stood carefully, took a deep breath, and pulled her tank top over her head. It was difficult for her, obviously, but she wasn't going to be left out. Her natural shyness would have to give way to her self-image of fearlessness. And the effects of all that wine in such a small frame didn't hurt.
Gary and I were both trying to divide our attention between the two girls without being too obvious about it. He and Marta and I kept up a stream of chatter and joking; a sudden silence might scare Alice off. Gary and I were now naked. I was perfectly comfortable but he had to kind of work at it. On the other hand, despite his relative lack of height, his cock was certainly impressive even in its relaxed state.
Marta's body was what I had expected and hoped for: A small waist above slightly flaring hips, very nicely-shaped legs and slender ankles, and rather oversized breasts topped by unusually large nipples. Her broad shoulders and erect posture kept those luscious tits from sagging and she was obviously proud of them. She certainly got my attention, and Gary's.
Alice was a very different physical type, . . . in many ways, a more petite version of my adored sister. There were smooth layers of muscle in all the right places, all over her body. Her breasts weren't at all large -- I guessed barely a mouthful -- but her dark nipples betrayed her arousal. Her hips were narrow and her legs slender without being skinny. She wasn't as developed as a practicing athlete, but she could have been.
The two girls were opposites in one other attractive way. Marta was a natural silky blonde and her public hair was fine and curly, but it didn't conceal much. Her light tan contrasted very well with her pale cunt hair.
Alice's Mediterranean ancestry was obvious. Her complexion was darker and looked exactly right as a backdrop for the thick, tight patch of blue-black curls that completely covered her crotch. A faint line of dark fuzz bisected her flat stomach from her navel to the top of her pubic jungle. I was certain she shaved her legs and her underarms frequently -- and I had an abrupt erotic flash of what her cunt might look like shaved bare.
Better get my mind off *that* track, I thought, and opened the glass door to the deck. Alice hurried through first, with Gary close behind. Marta smiled at me promisingly and brushed her nipples against me as she stepped over the sill -- and then reached behind herself, out of sight of the other two, and grabbed my cock.
I was forced to follow quickly with that warm little hand grasping me so confidently. She squeezed my growing organ and chuckled over her shoulder. I suspected she meant to embarrass me, just a little, by causing me to display an erection in front of our hosts. But I caught her completely off-guard: I goosed her with a well-placed middle finger between her cheeks. She squealed and jumped, and let go of my cock. Gary looked back and laughed, and Marta went bright rose.
Alice slipped into the hot tub and tried casually to look anywhere but at us. Marta slid into the steaming water opposite her, hissing through her teeth in pleasure at the heat. Beads of sweat instantly popped out all over her face and shoulders. Alice still looked ill at ease.
"Hey, Alice . . ." Marta touched the other girl gently on the arm. "We're all friends here, aren't we? Do you wear a bathing suit when you're home alone and in the tub by yourself?"
Alice looked down at the bubbles and shook her head slightly. "No, of course I don't. I'm being silly, I know; I'm just not used to this." She looked up at Gary and me -- we had just sat down on the other two sides of the redwood tub -- and this time she looked deliberately at his penis and then at mine. She seemed to be inoculating herself mentally. "I trust you guys, I really do." She smiled sheepishly. "I'm *trying* to be an adult, you know! Just be a little patient, okay?"
I was in the water by then and I reached around Alice's back and softly stroked her shoulderblade a few times. Gary did the same. Alice smiled and began to relax. Marta understood what we were up to and ignored our temporary complete attention to the other girl in the group. I felt Marta's soft hand beneath the water moving around my waist and then trailing down my spine and between the halves of my ass. I got tingles even in that cauldron. I turned my attention to her and did exactly the same thing, and was delighted when she blinked and shivered in response.
"You *are* a horny little thing, aren't you?" I laughed. She squeezed my ass and grinned.
"Under the right circumstances and with the right guy, I guess I am, yeah."
"Marta, don't misunderstand me -- but you're not what I would have expected, based on the first couple of days of class. You seemed a lot more . . . reserved, I guess. That's partly why I 'rescued' you in lab. I had the feeling you were fed up with guys hitting on you, that you just wanted to be left alone for a change. The instant I saw you, I knew you were the prettiest girl in the freshman class -- but I was on my best behavior because I didn't want to scare you off. I'm glad I waited," I added with an appreciate leer at her gently bobbing breasts.
Marta looked into my eyes for several long moments, as if measuring what she saw there. Then she turned me to face her and slid her arms around my waist, pressing her gorgeous tits against my diaphragm and her crotch against my trembling cock. I bent my knees to get down to eye level and she immediately moved her arms to my neck, spread her thighs, and straddled my lap, pushing her whole body even closer to me. We kissed slowly, gently, exploringly, tongues trailing across each other's lips, breathing in each other's exhalations. I squeezed her ass in both hands and her arms tightened.
I was vaguely aware that Gary and Alice were kissing almost shyly and at the same time stealing wide-eyed glances at our passionate clinch only a few inches away. I shifted position slightly, to put Marta's back against the side of the tub. She spread her knees wider and tucked up her ass a little, and the head of my cock insinuated itself slightly into her gaping pussy. She sighed loudly and squirmed, and I knew our companions had no doubts about what we were doing.
Even under this sort of provocation, it was almost impossible to develop, much less maintain, a genuine erection in such hot water. Marta obviously knew that because she shoved one hand down between our bodies and urged and pushed my cock inside herself. There was no chance of fucking under such circumstances but the sensation was very nice nevertheless . . . not to mention Marta's steamy enthusiasm.
Our lips separated and she leaned her head and shoulders back against the redwood. Her lascivious grin boosted my lust even higher and she stroked my forearms so that the muscles twitched.
"I'm very careful about letting myself get interested in a guy," she murmured. "I tend to get carried away like this, and that's a little scary sometimes. But I knew you were watching me all along, you know." She stroked the base of my cock. "I kept waiting for you to come on to me -- but you never did. But still, I knew you were interested. You made me curious, Mike, and I started getting interested in *you.* I finally figured out that you were deliberately holding back, being careful of my feelings, . . . and that was very nice. I liked you even more."
She pulled me close again and her lips touched my ear. "I think you're terrific -- and you haven't even fucked me yet," she whispered throatily. Her cunt muscles twitched and tried to suck in the head of my semi-rigid penis. I moaned and kissed her throat, and swabbed my tongue around the shell of her ear.
Knowing we weren't going to be able to achieve any real penetration at the moment, Marta lowered her legs and drew me close to her again. She exchanged places with me so that my back was now against the side of the hot tub, and she gripped the tub's rim and pressed her whole front surface against me. Her steaming body covering mine in that boiling tub was almost more than I could handle -- almost. But I gripped her waist and hips and moved the palms of my hands over the sides of her twitching thighs. She ground against me, gasping and pressing harder.
Then my attention divided in spite of itself. While still fully involved in Marta's effort to make two bodies occupy the same space, I also became aware of what Gary and Alice were up to. What we had been doing a few minutes earlier, they were doing now. Little Alice's back was pressed against the opposite side of the tub and from the way her kneecaps peeked out of the water it was fairly obvious her ankles were locked around Gary's waist. Her open mouth and tightly-shut eyes, as well as the soft, gasping sounds she was making, seemed to indicate they were having more success at fucking underwater than we were. The steamy water glistened on her olive skin and her short hair was plastered, shining, against her skull.
At the very moment I focused on her, over Marta's shoulder, over Gary's shoulder, her eyes opened and she saw me watching her face. I don't know what expression I was wearing, but it must have amused her because she smiled broadly through those thick black lashes. It was a smile of recognition but also of unfocused seduction and I was suddenly struck by her elfin features, her large, dark eyes, and the slender ripeness of her body. I smiled back and winked. This was camaraderie in delicto, I thought. Two couples sharing a first sexual experience in such close proximity became almost a single organism.
Gary had more enthusiasm or more concentration than I had, apparently. Or maybe he was simply more desperate. He was stroking into Alice slowly but steadily. At the end of each stroke, when he was fully embedded, Alice arched her back and pushed her crotch hard against him. And each time she did that her shallow breasts rose above the surface of the steaming water and I gazed in some fascination at her dark, stiff nipples. They stood out from her breasts perhaps half an inch and the relative boyishness of her torso exaggerated the effect. They made Marta's broader, softer breasts seem more like punctuation marks against my chest.
After a few minutes, during which I had been kneading Marta's ass while exchanging heated stares with Alice, Gary paused at the end of a particularly strong stroke and sighed lightly. Alice bit her lip and let her eyes roll back while pulling Gary's ass toward her with her heels.
It was obvious they had both just climaxed and in response I squeezed Marta's ass cheeks and let my fingertips play around the edges of her asshole. She shivered and mashed her pelvis against mine, even though she had to stand on tiptoe to do it. She felt great against my body, but it was obvious that if we wanted to progress any farther this evening we would have to get out of the hot tub.
Alice and Gary were in a clinch now, tongues engaged in fierce battle. Gary didn't strike me as having had a lot of experience -- not even as much as Marta, probably -- but I was reasonably sure he wasn't a virgin. Alice, I wasn't sure about, though it seemed unlikely from the mutual screwing I had just witnessed. Probably not a "technical" virgin, I finally decided, but she might have just experienced her first orgasm with a guy. Neither of them, I was sure, had ever engaged in any kind of sex in front of another couple. Nor, probably, had Marta. But they all seemed to be fast learners. Maybe I could increase the pace of their education this weekend, I thought, smiling to myself. I really liked all three of them and there was no reason I shouldn't lead them to further discoveries of the many delights of sensuality.
"Hey, you guys," I said in a relaxed tone, "we ought to get out of this cooker and back inside." I squeezed Marta's waist and she responded to the signal.
"Yeah, the tub feels great but it's kind of . . . limiting," she said with a sideways smile at Gary and Alice. To my surprise, Gary blushed a little but Alice just laughed. She was definitely loosening up.
I quickly hauled myself up the ladder and out onto the deck. The cool evening breeze was invigorating but I could feel the goosebumps popping up all over me. Gary was right behind me on the ladder and he shivered violently when the breeze hit him. "Wow! And we forgot the towels," he added.
The hot water had encouraged my balls to drop an inch or two lower than usual but now they snapped back up to hide from the cold. Marta was next up the ladder and she immediately moved into the circle of my arms for warmth. Alice hurried up behind her and made straight for the door to the family room.
"Towels, towels, towels," she chanted through chattering teeth. Then we were back inside, making a show of freezing to death while Alice darted down the hall and returned seconds later with an armload of fluffy, oversized towels. I was pleased to see that she didn't even try to cover herself, much less wrap a towel around that lovely little body.
The other three shook out theirs out but I held up a finger. "Nope! First rule of hot-tubbing: Everyone dries someone else!" I held open a towel for Marta. "C'mere, you!"
She giggled as I began briskly rubbing her down. Then she grabbed the other end of the big towel and started to work on me. We found lots of interesting locations that required special attention, first with the towel and then with bare hands.
Gary and Alice took up the game and made no attempt to conceal their nakedness. Soon, tits and cocks were being stroked, pubic hair was being dried a strand at a time, and nobody was cold any longer.
The best part of all this was the lack even of bashfulness. The hot tub had had its effect, sweating both the alcohol and the modesty out of my friends. Marta seemed to enjoy the voyeurism/exhibitionism as much as I did. After a few minutes of squeezing my balls and manipulating my cock, she carefully turned me around to present my profile to Gary and Alice. Then, as I leaned against the back of a chair, she knelt on the carpet and darted her tongue against the head of my cock, licked a stripe up the underside, and finally, slowly, took it into her mouth with a nerve-tingling slurp.
Alice and Gary, though engaged in their own caressing and foreplay, were quite aware of what the two of us were up to. But at Marta's theatrical inhalation of my penis, they paused and stared, her fingers wrapped around his twitching cock, his middle finger buried in her pussy, as I moaned with pure pleasure and Marta hummed with satisfaction. This girl really knew what she was doing -- either through more experience than I had assumed or by regular practice with a kielbasa.
After only a few delicious strokes, her lips were nibbling at my short and curlies and my penis was halfway down her throat. I gritted my teeth, willing myself not to come yet, no matter how marvelous the sensation.
But Marta wanted to stretch out the suspense, too. After a moment, she let my engulfed organ slide slowly and very wetly from her mouth. She looked up and grinned at my expression, then glanced at the other two. They still hadn't moved but Alice looked at my cock -- now throbingly erect -- with disbelief.
Gary swallowed and licked his lips. "Wow . . . ," he whispered.
Marta laughed and sat back on her heels; her thighs were spread wide enough for her glistening pussy lips to be obvious. She beckoned our friends over closer. "C'mon, you two -- it isn't that hard. And, Gary. . . ? They tell me it feels fantastic. . . ."
"God . . . ," I groaned, and Marta laughed again and reached up to fondle my testicles.
They were only six feet away, but Gary and Alice crossed the distance like it was the Great Plains. Making out, even fucking underwater, with someone else around was one thing, apparently; paying deliberate attention to another couple's genitals was somehow different.
Marta took the other girl's hand and gently pulled her down to her knees beside her. "It's easy, really," she said. "You just have to practice at it." Then she added in a stage whisper, "It's also great for making your guy happy when you really don't want to fuck." Gary looked at me and I raised both eyebrows. I didn't think that would be the case here.
"Now, watch," Marta said -- and then abruptly sucked Gary's cock into her mouth and reached up to squeeze his balls without letting go of mine. He gasped, startled, and Alice's jaw dropped in surprise. Gary's penis, though not as large and thick as mine, had looked to be a little longer, but it made no difference because within a few seconds it was out of sight just as mine had been. Alice was smart enough to know that in such a situation, a mouth was a mouth as far as the guy was concerned, just as sometimes a cunt was a cunt. She didn't protest but simply watched -- closely -- in fascination. The cock slithered out from between Marta's accommodating lips.
"Go ahead, try it," she urged Alice. The other girl hesitated and glanced up at Gary. It must have been his expression of unalloyed lust that convinced her to make the attempt. She took it into her mouth gingerly and began moving her lips up and down the shaft, taking it a little deeper each time. Amazingly, she didn't gag and her hard little tits bounced and quivered as she worked up to a rhythm. Steely control, that was our little Alice.
"Don't go too fast," Marta cautioned. "You want to make it last, kid!" Then, to *my* surprise, Marta scooted around behind Gary, flipped over on her back with her elbows for support, and stuck her face up between his legs. Moving her tongue first in wide swaths around the space between his balls and his anus, she finally reached up and grabbed both his testicles in her mouth. Gary had been resting his hands on Alice's head for balance as she sucked away at his cock, which had now nearly vanished, but at Marta's lunge he clutched at the tangled black hair spastically and tried to pull her head even closer. I saw Marta's cheeks hollow with applied suction as she tugged his balls downward.
Standing there watching, I wanted to jack off, preferably over Alice's elfin face, but I restrained myself. I knew my turn would come eventually, so I temporized by lying prone between Marta's outstretched legs and diving into her smoking cunt. She twitched and spread her thighs even farther. I chased her clit around with the tip of my tongue and sucked it from its sheath. Marta's twitching increased.
After another minute of two, I could feel the tension building toward orgasm in all three bodies. I came up for air. "Alice, don't quit! Swallow it, it won't hurt you!"
And at that moment, perhaps because of my words, Gary gave in to his climax, gasping loudly as he came. I was aware of Marta suddenly sucking harder on his balls, and then of Alice swallowing rapidly in an effort to keep up. At the same time, Marta had her own orgasm, her clit jerking back and forth like a triphammer and her pussy opening and closing like a bellows. My cock was in agony, trying to drill through the carpet.
Gary looked a bit wobbly but he managed to lift one foot over Marta's body without stepping on her. He swayed forward a little, his cock still encircled by Alice's small mouth, and I thought for a moment she might gag -- but she wrapped her arms around his thighs, focused her eyes on nothing, and hung on. As he carefully lowered himself onto his side on the floor, she never released her grip on his cock; it was like his penis was permanently lodged in her throat. Her eyes seemed glazed, like she wasn't really in her body at all. As she settled on her side, one knee bent for balance, I could see the reflection of fresh moistness on the dark, hairy patch between her legs. Probably she had come when he did -- a new experience for her, I was certain.
Gary settled himself and took a very deep breath; he seemed dazed and disoriented, too. After another few minutes, we found ourselves lounging naked in a circle, head to feet, like an ancient Roman dinner party without the couches. Without a word being spoken, we moved into a tighter ring on the floor, heads overlapping with legs. The classic daisy chain. My cheek was brushing against little Alice's calf and her head was propped on Gary's ass; he was lying face down, nuzzling Marta's soft white thigh. Marta's head was inching up my leg and her hand was already teasing my cock.
It was a more elaborate version of "69," with more people than even I had ever shared sex with. It looked promising, though. Marta was about to put that educated mouth to work on me and I was about to explore the dense, dark jungle of Alice's cunt. I'd had *lots* of practice at eating pussy and I didn't think she was going to be disappointed. I stroked the back of Alice's knee and she trembled involuntarily and looked back at me. There was a deep-set glow in her dark eyes and a crust of drying semen on her lips and down her chin. Her hair was tousled and streaks of sweat trickled across her taut, gold-brown body to the floor. The cumulative effect was very sensual.
Then I jumped a little myself at the touch of Marta's hot, hard tongue dabbing at the underside of my penis. She chuckled under her breath and whispered, "I'm gonna suck you so dry, you won't be able to come for a month!" Well, she certainly tried.
Fifteen minutes later, Marta had almost all of my cock in her mouth and throat; her tongue moved round and round it like a small animal. Her hands roamed over my ass and between my legs, probing at the base of my balls and the rim of my asshole. She was taking her time, in no hurry at all: Exquisite.
Alice was lying on her side, one leg nearly straight up in the air. The soft hair in her crotch formed a cushion almost back to her asshole. My face was buried in it, enjoying the pungent aroma of her previous orgasm. It was obvious that no guy's tongue had ever explored so deeply between her legs before, from the way she squirmed and the little sounds of startled pleasure she made. I nibbled at her clit, pushing its sheath back with my lips and sucking hard on the red protrusion the hood revealed. The muscles in her thighs fluttered.
Alice, in turn, was caressing and licking Gary's ass. His legs were spread and her mouth moved from his asshole to the back side of his balls. She seemed to have dismissed all her doubts and inhibitions. And I could tell from Gary's reaction when little Alice finally pushed her tongue past his sphincter and into his rectum. Gary had buried his face in Marta's sweet blonde fluff and Marta was emitting little squeals of delight.
We went round and round the circle like that for half an hour, all four of us rising to a fever pitch. Any bashfulness we might have felt earlier had disappeared completely. And no one had even been properly screwed, yet! Well *that* was about to change.
I came up for air with Alice's pussy juices dripping down my chin. "Look, if my cock doesn't find a proper hole soon, I'm going to explode!" I seemed to sound more plaintive than I had intended, but I got the results I wanted. Marta withdrew my penis from the cheek where she had tucked it and said "First dibs!"
She smiled down at Gary, who released his grip on her thighs. Then she scrambled around, pushed me flat on my back, and climbed astride my hips. She had kept a grip on my cock the whole time; now she lowered herself onto it, wiggled a little to get comfortable, and sighed happily. I knew she had been waiting for this all evening. She moved slowly up and down on the shaft, taking her time and flexing her vaginal muscles. Maybe it was just that I had become attuned to my sister's body and her sexual styles, but Marta's method seemed very exotic. She was certainly a little tighter than Alex, though the breasts bobbing above my face were much larger. So I pulled her down to me and inhaled that soft, white flesh, sucking lightly on her nipples. Her cunt squeezed my cock in return.
Then, glancing above and behind my head where I couldn't see, Marta sat back on my haunches with a smile and went back to pumping her pussy. I had only a second to wonder what was going on when my vision was obscured by Alice's dark recesses as she straddled my face.
She was facing Marta, who reached out to steady her. I slipped my hands under that small ass and urged her to raise up a bit so I could breath. Then I poked my nose up into her pussy and went to work again with my tongue on her clit. I was vaguely aware that the two girls had also begun playing with each other's tits; all four nipples were being rolled between thumb and forefinger.
I also knew Gary had temporarily been left out of the action, but he'd had his and this was *my* turn with our two hot young ladies . . . and I soon discovered that Gary was reclining a few feet away on the floor, taking in the scene and jerking off -- something else perhaps Marta and certainly Alice had never witnessed before.
Marta's hips picked up speed as she climbed toward her next climax -- I had already lost count of them -- and where she went I was close behind. Alice bent over and put her mouth to work licking the base of my cock and chewing on my pubic hair. Her hard nipples brushing against my abdomen stimulated me further and her new position allowed me to breath easier. I stroked her curved, muscular back and squeezed her firm ass as my own orgasm began to gather. When I came, it felt like I was going to blow a hole through the end of Marta's cunt. She screwed herself down as far as possible and the head of my penis pushed hard against her cervix.
My thumb happened to be massaging the tight entrance of Alice's asshole when I erupted and it just naturally popped through her sphincter. In an instant, my entire thumb was embedded in her rectum and her shuddering gasp combined shock and pleasure. When my thumb twitched she whimpered and dug her fingers into my stomach. Her body shook and her clit trembled under my tongue. All three of us were gasping for breath as Marta half-collapsed on top of Alice -- pinning me at the bottom of the heap.
We lay there for several minutes until I finally realized I'd be able to breathe more easily if I weren't buried under a stack of naked, orgasmic teenaged girls. My muffled pleas for release brought giggles from the girls and they finally piled off, allowing me to gasp for breath.
Gary climbed to his feet, his unresolved erection bobbing in front of him, and asked the way to the bathroom. Alice pointed down the hall and he stumbled away. I found it interesting that everyone seemed content to remain naked -- even Alice, who lay on her back on the floor, legs and arms spread and sweat trickling down her ribs. Marta slowly unfastened herself from my shrinking cock and lay down next to me, cuddling in under my arm and kissing the underside of my chin fondly. I shifted my head and kissed her back as thoroughly as I knew how.
"Ummm, lovely," she murmured when we finally came to a stopping point. She stroked my penis lightly a couple of times. "Mike, would you be upset . . . if I followed Gary in there?" she asked hesitantly. "I'm not finished enough to quit fucking yet, and he'd make it a full house. . . ."
I glanced pointedly over at Alice's lithe form and smiled. Marta smiled back and nodded. "Okay, fair's fair. I'll take him, you take her, and we'll meet back here for another round!" She hopped up with more energy than I would have believed possible and swayed down the hall toward the bathroom. She knocked once, stuck her head in the door, then entered and shut the door behind her. That gave all of us a little privacy for a change.
I rolled over on my side and moved myself parallel to Alice's body. She smiled lazily and touched my hip. I took that as an invitation and began to stroke and caress her downy body, concentrating on her belly and her shallow breasts. Her nipples were still erect. She looked around without alarm.
"What happened to Gary?" she asked.
"He went to the can and Marta went along to, uh, give him a hand. . . ."
Alice was genuinely amused and I detected no jealousy. She seemed to have accepted everyone's good intentions for the evening and was taking an enthusiastic part in our little impromptu orgy. I rolled one nipple between my fingers and tugged lightly at it. Alice's dark eyes went smoky again and she put out an arm to draw me closer, to accept my attentions.
I kissed her slowly, gently, not wanting to frighten her off at the last minute. I guess I shouldn't have worried about it because she said softly and huskily, "I never let anyone do what you did with your tongue before, Mike. It was really nice. I mean, I *really* like Gary; he's so much fun to be with and we have so much in common. . . ."
I could see where this was going and I interrupted her. "Alice, don't get the idea anyone's trying to poach on anyone else's territory. Even Marta knows I have someone back home I'm very serious about." Well, that wasn't quite true; I hadn't mentioned Alex to her yet, but I was going to.
"She and I got together to have fun. Sex is fun. You and Gary may have something serious developing whether you realize it or not. But that has nothing to do with this weekend. All this is just good, clean fun, as they say." I licked her ear lobe and she shivered against my body. "Alice, you and Gary are the only ones my cock hasn't been in yet -- and you're a *lot* cuter than he is."
She laughed and nuzzled my neck. Then, for the first time, she curled her hand around my penis and squeezed; it reacted by twitching and stiffening. This was working out perfectly. I shifted onto my front between her thighs, which she spread wide to allow me access. Her fingers twined into my hair as she urged my head toward the joining of her slender legs. She seemed to bear down a little and her small, hard clit emerged from the shiny black jungle. I sucked it between my lips and flicked my tongue over its tip. Alice tightened her grip in my hair and arched her back. Her heels rose to press against the sides of my ribs and I hooked my elbows behind her knees to open her up even more. Her breathing grew more rapid and I eased off. I didn't want this surprisingly sensual girl to come until I was ready for her to.
I moved up along her sweat-streaked body and flicked my cock against the lips of her gaping cunt. She gasped and her lashes flickered. I eased her heels over my shoulders so her knees were up against her chest. Her athletic condition and small build gave her more flexibility than Marta could manage, and her pussy gaped wide. She hunched her hips upward, perhaps unconsciously, and I slid into her vibrating vagina. She moaned and the already snug tunnel squeezed my organ even tighter. I grasped her wrists and pinned them outstretched above her head. I felt her toes curl as her heels pressed down against my shoulders more firmly. My cock pushed against the end of her cunt at each stroke and she drew a sharp intake of breath each time, not of discomfort but because of the electricity passing between us. I glanced down to watch my cock disappearing into that dark jungle and noticed her clit winking in time with my strokes.
"Gary was gentle," she gasped, "and I loved it -- but I want you to do it to me hard. I want you to make me feel it!"
"Do what hard?" I replied. "Tell me what you want."
"Fuck me! Fuck me good and hard! Fill me up! Don't be gentle, don't! Fuck my cunt *hard!*" The last part came out as a moan. Alice seemed to have a small domination fantasy going.
I began to slam into her with enough force to make her small breasts bounce, but not enough to actually cause her pain. She wanted fantasy, I could give her fantasy. Besides, I was enjoying it myself. I pulled her wrists a little straighter and her fingers writhed and curled into fists.
"Hook your ankles together behind my neck," I insisted, and she did. If I had had the opportunity to script this scene, I would have wound a telephone cord or something around her ankles and tied her wrists to a couple of chair legs. Now her eyes were closed and her head swung back and forth. She was even biting her lip. I leaned down and kissed the side of her throat, then moved up to the hollow space behind the hinge of her jaw. Then, as I thundered into my orgasm, I bit down slightly on her earlobe.
She jerked once, then again, and uttered a small cry. And then she was flooded by a paroxysm of a climax, her thighs jerking, her arm muscles spasming, as she came and came.
Finally, both of us ran down and I relieved the strain on her wrists. She let her feet fall to the floor and wrapped her arms loosely around my neck. All she could say between gasps was "Wow. . . ."
I held my weight above her on my elbows but kept my cock in her for a few minutes. I pushed into her a short distance every fifteen or twenty seconds and her cunt jerked. She giggled at her own reaction and squirmed with delayed responses. This was something else I had learned from my sister -- that a girl's cunt is very sensitive to aftershocks -- and I was passing that knowledge on to Alice, who apparently had never experienced it before.
I slid the palms of my hands under her upper back and arched her ribcage upward so I could reach her nipples with my mouth. They were also hypersensitive now and when I sucked on each one for a minute or two, Alice moaned and hugged me tighter.
Finally, I began to develop a cramp in my upper arm and, regretfully, I withdrew my cock from her and rolled over onto my side. I studied her face in some fascination, my head propped up on the palm of my hand. Her eyes were half-closed, from physical exhaustion as much as sexual satiety, I thought. Her breathing was becoming regular again and there were beads of musky sweat drying on her body. Her pubic hair was stiff and spiky with escaped semen and red patches on her body showed the pressure of my weight on her.
Her knees were still bent and her legs parted. She looked rather like she had lost a wrestling match, except that the slightly dazed smile on her lips was happy and satisfied. My arms and legs were stiffening up and my cock felt worn to a stub. There was a mixture of semen and the cunt juices of two girls stiffening in my pubic hair as well. It had been quite an evening . . . but it wasn't over yet.
Alice glanced up and then stretched her muscles in all directions with a laughing groan as I climbed a bit unsteadily to my feet. "I'm going to check on Marta and Gary," I said, nodding toward the bathroom. "Don't want to miss anything, right?"
She lifted one hand to indicate that she had heard but she seemed satisfied for the moment to lie there on the thick carpet and recover her strength. I paused and looked down at her lithe, firm nakedness, now displayed full-length. She stretched again, partly for my benefit, eyes closed and smiling. Very nice indeed.
I padded quietly down the hall and paused outside the bathroom door, which was not quite closed. It was pretty obvious, from the rhythmic creaking of porcelain and the breathy gasping sounds, what was occurring inside. I opened the door and stepped in.
Gary was slouched on the closed toilet seat, knees partly drawn up and legs together. Marta straddled his lap, facing me, chin raised and lips curled back as her cunt slapped repeatedly over his cock. She had her own knees raised for better penetration and was bracing herself with her hands on his thighs. At each jolt, her breasts bounced and jiggled and her hair flew in all directions from her exertions.
She looked over and smiled at me for a moment but never changed her rhythm. I wasn't sure Gary even knew I was there. I moved closer and squeezed Marta's magnificent tits. She smiled again. Then I felt a small, warm hand on my shoulderblade and another hand slid smoothly down my ass. Alice stood on tiptoe and rested her chin on my shoulder for a better view.
Marta held out her hand to Alice and drew her around from behind me. She moved the other girls's hands to her breasts and encouraged her to squeeze and fondle them as I had done. Alice didn't hesitate, which surprised me a bit -- though it probably shouldn't have by that time. In fact, she leaned closer herself so Marta could roll her still-prominent nipples between thumb and finger. I slipped around behind Alice and covered her red-blotched ass with the palms of my hands and nipped lightly at the back of her neck.
Alice pressed her ass into my grip, inviting further activity, so I obliged, sliding my middle finger from the base of her spine down to the cleft below it. I knew something about asshole-arousal and I put my experience to good use. Getting a finger into a girl's pussy was one thing; getting a finger into her rectum was usually much more difficult.
In this case, though, the girl and her anus were both ready and willing. She was still sweaty and internally moist in all her orifices and my finger crept past her snug sphincter with little resistance. It was a sensation I've always had a taste for, though I was seldom able to indulge it with anyone except my sister.
Alice trembled a little and arched her back farther as my finger gradually slid in until the palm of my hand was flat against her buttocks. I wiggled my finger experimentally and Alice gasped in response.
"You like that?" I whispered behind her ear.
"Ummmmm, . . . yeah. . . !" Her hands continued to knead Marta's tits and the blonde looked like she was building to an explosion.
"Kiss her, Alice," I whispered. "Kiss her deep, like you would Gary."
Again, there was no hesitation by either girl: Alice lowered her face and Marta titled hers upward. The joining of their lips was steady and prolonged, involving much activity by at least two tongues. I curled my buried forefinger and lifted a bit -- a favorite maneuver that nearly always had the desired effect on the recipient -- and Alice moaned passionately and clenched her ass muscles, squeezing my finger in a warm, wet, tight embrace.
It wasn't that large a bathroom and Gary eventually figured out why it seemed so crowded. He was panting open-mouthed when I realized he was looking at me from the back of the horizontal pile of bodies. I mouthed "Okay?" at him silently and raised an eyebrow.
He rolled his eyes comically and gave me a broad grin. I knew I had to be very careful as the evening went on and we all became even more adventurous with each other. Marta knew better, I was sure, than to expect a lasting emotional commitment to develop from a weekend sexual romp. But I certainly didn't want Gary or Alice becoming guilt-ridden in retrospect. This evening was probably the only time the four of us would be together like this; the memories we gave each other should be happy and sexy and exciting, not retributive. I had to find an opportunity to speak privately with both Gary and Alice. For that matter, I had to be sure Marta knew about Alex, . . . as much as I could tell her, anyway.
Marta was busy at the moment, though -- being plowed by Gary from behind and rubbing her own finger over Alice's swollen clit. Little Alice's stomach muscles were fluttering from the attention and that made her rectal muscles work, too. I liked the way her body was squeezing my finger and I tried to push it farther up her ass. Of course, what I really wanted to do was to get my cock up that tight ass, but if that happened it would be Gary's prerogative and not mine. I began to wonder how Marta felt about ass-fucking. . . .
Since I couldn't "legitimately" fuck Alice's asshole, I resolved to simply screw her from behind instead. I carefully removed my finger, though she didn't seem to want to let go of it. Gently bending her forward from the waist, I eased my rigid cock against the still slippery opening to her vagina. Sliding in was a breeze and her delicious little butt was quickly pressed against my groin. I held her hips and thrust deeply; she groaned and bent farther so that her face was only inches from where Gary's cock was thumping Marta's cunt.
Whether it was the sight of her boyfriend's cock pistoning in and out or whether it was simply the smell of sex, I don't know. But my fucking kept nudging Alice forward and she finally buried her face in Marta's cunt, licking both her clit and Gary's cock as they moved past. Little Alice was definitely becoming a wanton.
I held Alice steady while I fucked her by pushing my thumb into her asshole again and her whole pelvis jerked. I hoped she wasn't nearing some kind of sensory overload.
Gary picked up speed about then and Marta starting making "huh, . . . huh, . . . huh, . . ." sounds at his impact in her cunt. I took his cue and increased my pace; Alice held onto Marta's legs for balance and I heard her softly chanting "fuck, fuck, fuck, . . . ." Then Gary shot off and a few seconds later his semen was visible, oozing down his shaft, dripping out of Marta's sopping cunt.
Marta raised up a bit so Gary's cock could escape and settled back with a sigh, his penis sticking up between her thighs, but beginning to droop. Alice immediately grabbed it and stuffed it into her mouth; Gary sat up straighter. I wondered what the combination of tastes must be like to Alice, . . . and that thought touched *me* off. I came in a half-dozen rapid bursts and my balls were beginning to ache. After a minute of catching my wind, I pulled out of Alice's soggy cunt and gave her shoulders and back a few long, gentle strokes by way of parting. Then I folded up on the floor, leaning against the bathroom door in exhaustion. Alice sank to her knees for the same reason, but she kept Gary's cock firmly in her mouth, milking him of what little fluid he had left.
Gary had slouched back against the toilet
tank in a state of semi-collapse. Marta still sat astride his lap, feet
dangling above the floor, leaning back against his chest. Her eyes were
bleary. Alice stopped sucking on Gary's cock a minute later and simply
laid her cheek on his thigh. No one could summon up the energy to move
for at least a quarter of an hour.
It felt strange to know that some girl other than Alex was sharing my pillow, but I couldn't deny that Marta was a most congenial bed partner. We had almost literally crawled into bed, so exhausted we hadn't even bothered with a shower. Both our bodies were covered with dried sweat and my cock and her cunt reeked of a mixture of sexual scents. That was kind of sexy, though, in its own way. Marta had gone to sleep almost instantly, snuggled up to me with an arm across my chest and her nose in my ear; I was only a minute or two behind her. I don't think either of us moved an inch during the remainder of the night.
When I finally awoke the next morning, it was because a certain little blonde was moving her hand slowly up and down my resurgent cock. I turned my head in that direction and Marta smiled sleepily at me. I leaned a bit and kissed her; I had a feeling we both needed to brush our teeth, but what the hell.
"'Morning," she said quietly and gave my cock a squeeze. It responded with a twitch.
I grinned and crawled up to sit against the headboard. "You're all full of energy this morning. . . ." I slid my hand down her stomach and curled my finger into her matted cunt. When I flicked my fingertip against her clit, she jerked a little, as I had expected her to, but she didn't quite succeed in covering the wince that accompanied it.
I stopped what I was doing immediately. "I'm sorry, Marta -- that was thoughtless. Are you sore?"
"Yeah, I guess I am. Feel like I've run in a marathon. I wonder why. . . ." We both chuckled as I slid back down onto my side facing her; she kissed me warmly. "The thing is, though," she added conspiratorially, "I guess I'm still horny."
I put my arm around her and massaged her back and shoulder one-handed for a few minutes. She scooted up closer to me, her tits pushing at my chest, and purred with pleasure. My hand finally traveled past her narrow waist and stroked her hip; she sighed again and pushed her groin against me. When my fingers trailed down between her buttocks and glided over her sphincter, she shivered and her breath caught in her throat.
"Well, there's more than one way to drown a cat," I murmured. Have you ever had your beautiful little ass fucked?" I could tell the direct crudity turned her on. She squirmed as I played gently with her asshole.
"It always seemed like it would hurt a lot. Doesn't it?"
"Well, yeah -- it might hurt, a little, the first time. But no more than when you lost your virginity, probably. Think of it as your *other* virginity." I pushed the tip of my middle finger through her sphincter and eased it out. I did it a couple more times. Marta's voice was getting a little shaky.
"God -- that feels good. Weird, but good. Okay, I'll try it -- but please try not to hurt me?"
"I wouldn't ever *try* to hurt you," I replied, and she smiled. I went into the guest bathroom and found a jar of moisturizing cream. It wasn't as good as K-Y, but it would have to do. My cock was awake and twitching, thinking about where it was going to go.
Marta was a little nervous when I came back, and trying to hide it. "How do I-- I mean, do you want. . . ?"
I grinned and lowered my voice to a scratchy baritone. "Gimme your asshole, woman!" She laughed as she curled on her side and I spread lotion around the edges of her anus, deliberately teasing her into a more advanced state of arousal. My lotion-lubricated finger slid more easily now past the puckered entry and I moved it slowly in and out a few times. After a minute or two, Marta's stomach muscles were fluttering and I felt her asshole twitch.
I removed my finger and lathered up my cock. "Marta, get up on your knees for a start, okay? Legs apart a little more, and curve your spine downward. Try to relax the muscles in your ass. . . ."
She cooperated as well as she could and it went easier than I had expected. When the head of my cock popped through, she gasped once and clenched up, but I was able to talk her down. A series of slow push/pull strokes got me embedded in her rectum. It was a *very* tight fit, which is a sensation I truly love.
I squeezed her buttocks as I began slowly thrusting and pulling back. Marta's low moans had an edge of pain at the beginning, but as we went on her internal moisture combined with the excited ooze from my cock and made things easier. Even with her soreness, Marta was soon flicking her clit with one thumb and pushing her ass back against me as I pushed forward.
Some women will simply tolerate having their ass plowed because it makes their guy happy. Some do it once or twice in the spirit of experimentation and never again because they don't get off on it. Other women, once they're used to it and have learned the technique, will have an orgasm just as they would from having their nipples sucked, assuming the guy knows what he's doing. But for a very few women, just the occasional one, having a cock in her ass is very much like a cock in her cunt, and she can get off just as strongly.
It shouldn't have surprised me, I guess, that little Marta was a full-fledged member of that small minority -- the only one I've ever known personally. I was amazed to see the sexual flush spread across her shoulders as she abandoned her masturbation and buried her face in her pillow. The muscles in her ass and thighs were trembling, which increased my own high. The pillow didn't quite smother the "Oh! Oh!" cries, either. The sexual sensitivity of her rectum was a revelation to her and a delight to me.
When she came, her knuckles went white from clutching the bed linens and the sounds that issued from her throat made me worry for a moment that she was choking. But the spasms rippling up and down her anal passage triggered me and I came in spurt after spurt -- more than I thought I could muster after the previous evening. I didn't know if I had nerve endings in my prostate, but *something* back there was alive and kicking.
Of course, with that sort of motivation, it didn’t take more than another few seconds before I felt the tingling electricity tightening in my groin and a rising hydraulic pressure in my cock. I gripped Marta’s hips firmly and slammed into her ass a good deal more forcefully than I had been doing. And when she felt me come, she clenched two fists full of sheet and dug in her toes. We both held our breaths as I jerked and trembled and dug my thumbs into her luscious ass.
And then I toppled gracefully over on top
of Marta, flattening her on the bed, with my cock still up her ass. She
gathered up my hand and pulled it close to her cheek, and sighed in deep
contentment. I tried to shift at least part of my weight to my knees and
elbows, but otherwise I wasn’t in a hurry to move, either. God, what a
weekend. I would be going home for a few days at the end of the month,
after quarterly exams; what a story I would have with which to regale my
sister -- and she’d enjoy hearing about it, too!
After perhaps a quarter of an hour, I caught myself on the verge of dozing off again and jerked myself awake. My penis had shrunk considerably; it was only still in Marta’s ass from instinct and the bonding power of seminal adhesion. I carefully extricated it and levered myself off Marta and onto my back. She moaned a little, turned her head and forced one eye open.
"Do we have to get up?" she asked plaintively. "Can't we just sleep for the rest of the weekend?"
While I considered her plea, I noted the warm-looking sun streaming in through the curtains. It must be nearly Noon. Where were Gary and Alice, anyway?
My thought was answered with impeccable timing, by a light tapping at the door. Without waiting to see if anyone answered, the doorknob turned and a dark eye with matching eyebrow appeared.
"Are you people still alive in here?" Alice asked quietly. I smiled and raised a hand and she slipped quietly into the room. She was wearing jeans and deck shoes, and a turquoise French-style tee-shirt I hadn't seen before. (I was so wasted, it took me a moment to remember that she lived here and had access to her entire wardrobe.) Her hair was brushed and shiny and she looked positively cheerful.
My disbelief at her up-and-at-'em morning demeanor must have been obvious. "I've been up for hours," she said with a grin. "I've never needed much sleep. Very handy for a photojournalist." She glanced back over her shoulder. "Gary was stumbling toward the bathroom a few minutes ago, but you guys can use the one in the master suite, if you like."
I just looked at her for a moment before shaking my head with a smile. "Where do you get all this energy?"
"Clean living," she replied. "C'mon --
I'm in the middle of waffles. You have about fifteen minutes if you want
your breakfast hot!" She grinned, and turned with a swing of her hair,
and left, while Marta and I tried to find out if the floor was still where
we had left it.
I wouldn't have expected I could eat anything, after all that alcohol and pasta the night before, but the aroma of hot waffles and Knott's blueberry syrup was all it took for me to realize how famished I really was. Gary was already at the table when Marta and I appeared, crouched over a large earthenware mug of coffee and inhaling the steam.
"You don't look like you got much sleep," I observed to him as we sat down. He was usually up in the mornings as early as I was.
He looked up blearily and gave me an ironic smile. "No, I didn't, actually. Somebody kept me busy all night. And I had trouble walking to the bathroom this morning." He took a sip of coffee and licked his lips. "And my dick hurts," he added.
"No, it doesn't," Alice chimed in from the sink. "Your dick feels great!" Gary shook his head, but the look he gave her was filled with affection and only temporarily assuaged lust.
The breakfast was terrific; Alice said her old-country grandmother had insisted that *all* girls should learn how to cook properly, even picture-takers. It was actually well past lunch time when we stopped eating and refilling our coffee cups, after which we adjourned to the deck and sat in canvas chairs in the sun for a couple hours, feeling companionably lazy and not talking about much of anything. The afternoon aged quietly and I was content to listen to the squirrels in the pines on the wooded slope behind the house.
After awhile, I realized I had been thinking about Alex while holding Marta's hand, which struck me as a little weird. After the mix-and-matching of partners last night, I was pretty sure Marta was under no illusions about a long-term romantic relationship between us, but you could never tell about these things.
Alice had been watching the afternoon shadows moving down the hillside and finally she declared that the light was just right, and she was going to go take some pictures of trees and flowers. That didn't sound especially journalistic, but Gary agreed to go along and help, and Marta and I were left alone.
So I told her about the girl I had been in love with for so long, who was finishing up high school back home and who would be coming down to Berkeley the next year. I told her we were so completely and absolutely certain of each other, we had no problems with dating other people. Marta looked like she'd heard that one before, but she just nodded. "That's your problem," she seemed to be thinking, but I couldn't tell her much more about Alex without spilling some part of The Secret. So I told her I was planning to tell "my girlfriend" all about our wild weekend when I saw her again in a few weeks -- and that I'd like to introduce the two of them, too. Marta eyed me thoughtfully.
"Well, yeah -- sure, I'd like to meet this girl, Mike. I wasn't planning on a vine-covered cottage, you know. Just a good time with a nice guy." I nodded and squeezed her hand. "I don't know what I'm going to be doing even a year from now, much less after I finish school," she went on. "I'm not making any lifetime plans, not yet. Still . . . , you really don't have to tell this other girl *anything* if you don't want to. I'm not even sure why you've told me all this."
Fair enough. "I couldn't *not* tell her,
you know. Just like she'll tell me about the guys she's been dating socially
-- and fucking, too, I don't doubt. I mean, sex is great -- especially
when it's with a really, really nice person--" (I squeezed her hand again
and was rewarded with a sweet smile) "--but it's not necessarily 'true
--- END ---
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Copyright 1997 by Michael K. Smith. Copies
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