Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. >Jaime Austin by Jaime Austin Part 1 Loading the Dishwasher We weren -(TM)t in the car more than a few minutes before Angela was sniffing and said, -Do you smell that? - I didn -(TM)t reply. I noticed it the moment the doors closed. She pressed the buttons to roll the windows down. It was a warm spring morning and the air was cool, but not too cool. -Can you imagine rolling up to the drive-thru and the poor kid getting hit with that smell? - -Maybe it would be some young kid who wouldn -(TM)t recognize it. - The smell in question was that of sex. Pussy, semen, and sweat. We reeked of it. Angela was wearing a t-shirt and sweat shorts she -(TM)d pulled from the hamper in her bathroom. I was wearing clothes I had donned the previous morning. We had made this Sunday morning run dozens of times. Her husband Mark lay in bed while we headed out to hit the local Jack in the Box for breakfast sandwiches and the nearby Starbucks for coffee. Ange would get in line at the drive-thru for Jack -(TM)s while I would walk into the Starbucks to get three coffees. It was a Sunday morning routine, but not routine today. -Listen, - I said. -Maybe you should just drop me off on campus. - I was one of the few third-year students who still lived in the dorms. -No fucking way, Timmy. - I hated it when she called me Timmy. -He -(TM)ll be up by the time we get back. We -(TM)ll set the stuff on the table and I -(TM)ll go right to the bathroom and take a shower. - -And leave me alone with him? - -Just start telling him about the redhead. He -(TM)ll be impressed and by the time I -(TM)m out of the shower he -(TM)ll have no idea I changed clothes. - Mark and Angela threw the best parties. At least as far as the philosophy department was concerned. My metric for judging this was turnout. When other people hosted a party, far fewer people showed than when it was Mark and Angela -(TM)s turn. Why was this? Maybe because Mark was guaranteed to be there and he was the top dog, the shining star of the department. Grad assistants deferred to him. Full professors accorded him an unusual amount of respect. At least that was my take. Being a lit major myself, I only observed such things from the outside. The same could be said for Angela. She was a journalism major and had no greater insight than I did. She thought it was because they were better hosts. Which could be true, but I still credited Mark. With his full beard and perfect grin, he just looked like a future philosophy professor. Add his cute wife and they were a magnet that automatically drew people to them. Me, I was Angela and Mark -(TM)s third wheel. Everywhere they went, I went too. If it struck anyone as odd, they never let on. Ange and I were friends from the seventh grade on and Mark? Well, he and I were friends, fairly good friends, but there was never any mistake who I was really friends with. He showed up our freshman year of college and Angela was hooked from the word go. Their parents were relieved when they decided to get married. Me, not so much. There was one party. I forget who hosted it. Nice apartment in an older building near campus. Typical turnout for a philosophy department get-together. Mark, of course, provided a great deal of entertainment, getting into elaborate debates with one and all. Angela and I commandeered the stereo, played all our favorite songs, and shared a large rocking chair. We also shared more than one bottle of wine. I don -(TM)t think we even realized that we were necking until the room got quiet. I guess the last song on the playlist had finished and when someone turned to see what we -(TM)d play next, we were in that chair with our tongues entwined. Mark approached us and held out his hand to Angela. As soon as she was off me, I started more music and she and Mark danced and everyone, myself included, acted as though everything that had transpired was perfectly normal. The three of us never talked about it, but Angela and I made an effort to be more circumspect at parties from that point on. But that was hardly the first or last time Mark saw us kissing. It was a habit we started back in High School. We never just said goodbye to each other. There was always an embrace and a full mouth-on-mouth kiss. She and I never dated. We were never boyfriend/girlfriend. We were just very good friends. Special friends. And the girls I dated and the boys she saw just had to deal with that. Even after she married Mark, she would tell me I was her best friend. And at times, when she was drunk she would kiss me and say, -If it wasn -(TM)t for Mark, it would be me and you. - How do you deal with something like that? I just told myself that Angela and I were too much alike. That if we tried to be more than friends we -(TM)d destroy each other. There were occasions when I actually believed that. It was not unusual for me to spend the night on Mark and Angela -(TM)s couch. I lived in the dorms on campus and if the hour grew late and especially if I was drinking, the couch was the place for me. There was even an oversized blanket that lived folded over the back of the couch that was there primarily for my use. This Sunday morning followed a particularly successful party. I woke up on the couch naked and had to search for my boxers. The apartment was a bit of a disaster, so I quietly started putting things right, including loading glassware into the dishwasher. I hadn -(TM)t been at this long before Angela came out of the bedroom. She was dressed in a t-shirt that barely covered her ass. I recognized it as one she had stolen from me years ago. It once said Ocean Beach across the front, but now all you could read was -cean each. - Whatever paint they used for the O and the B faded in the wash long ago. She went past me to the bathroom. I put coffee on and then a few minutes later, when she came out I handed her a cup. -Sorry about last night, - she said, bending over to pick up a glass off the floor. It was clear she had nothing on under that shirt. -What do you mean? - I asked. -I heard that redhead shoot you down. - I laughed. -Why is that funny? - -You never saw her leave, did you? - That got her eyebrows raised. In the search for my boxers, I had also found a pair of leopard print panties. I walked over to the couch and waved them at her. -Get the fuck out! - -Evidently she -(TM)s into pseudo-intellectuals. - -Timmy got laid! I -(TM)ve got to tell Mark. He -(TM)ll be impressed. - She shook her head for a moment. -I had no idea you were into souvenirs. - -Found them in the blanket. She left in a hurry at first light and left them behind. - -Ha! She -(TM)s probably at home crying, 'I fucked a pseudo-intellectual and lost my panties!' - -Well, she -(TM)s going to have to be nice to me to get them back. - -Maybe she won -(TM)t want them. - -She has a matching bra -" not that I ever saw it. - Angela sat on a bar stool, inadvertently giving me a clear view of her light brown bush. Angela did not believe in shaving. Her legs were covered in a delightful soft down, her armpits as well, and her bush was luxurious. Not that I saw it often. -So how does a girl go from insulting you to discussing her underwear? - -I -(TM)m not really sure myself. Maybe she felt bad about it? All I know is she was the last to leave. She was in the bathroom when you and Mark went to bed. When she came out, I was the only one here. She was quite drunk and I offered to call her an Uber, but she said no, she -(TM)d wait a bit until she sobered up enough to walk home. - All the while I -(TM)m talking, I -(TM)m moving around the apartment, picking up glasses, plates, and anything else for the dishwasher. I loved talking with Angela, but I wanted to avoid looking at what she had on display. -She told me I was sweet and gave me a kiss. Next thing you know we were on the couch necking and well, one thing led to another. - -How did you end up discussing her underwear? - -I told her I loved her panties as she was taking them off and she said she had a matching bra. - -That she wasn -(TM)t wearing? - -No bra on that girl last night. - -I hadn -(TM)t noticed. - -Really? - -I think that -(TM)s a boy thing, Tim. - She was up now, placing a glass in the machine. The loose-fitting shirt fell away from her neck affording me a view of her petite breasts. I quickly moved away. Now Angela will tell you that she is flat-chested. I -(TM)ve told her on more than one occasion that that just isn -(TM)t true. We -(TM)ve gone skinny dipping enough that I know her body well, and she has breasts. Lovely, pert, and yes small. Even in the skimpiest of bikinis, she shows no cleavage. And I doubt there -(TM)s a pushup bra that could help. But there -(TM)s a curve to them, subtle, but there. And then there -(TM)s her nipples, kind of like the erasure on top of a number 2 pencil. Crying out to be sucked. Angela wanted details. Was I still wearing my boxers when she took off her panties? Did we fuck on the couch or on the floor? I replied, -Just don -(TM)t turn over the sofa cushions. - -Fuck, Timothy. That belonged to Mark -(TM)s grandmother! - I shook my head, knowing full well it came from Goodwill. Back in the kitchen, we -(TM)re both loading the dishwasher and no matter how hard I tried, I was either looking down her top or getting a good look at her naked ass, all the while telling her about fucking a redhead on her couch. -Did you go down on her? - I moved close to her. -Smell my face. - -Damn, bro, you need a shower as much as I do. - I looked down at her and while she was fully covered, her nipples were poking against her shirt. I started to turn away. -Timothy, - she said to me. Angela was the only person who did not routinely call me that. She got my attention. When I looked at her face, it was obvious that she was staring at my crotch, or more precisely my erection, which was pushing out the fabric in an obvious way. -Is that for me or is it from talking about that girl? - I paused for a moment. -Angela, - I said, -that shirt barely covers you. - She looked down and seemed to realize for the first time just how short that shirt was. Then she noticed there was even a hole in it, just above the hem, and a few hairs were peeking out. She picked up the hem and gave me a full view of her abundant bush. -It -(TM)s nothing you haven -(TM)t seen before. - My dick throbbed and she saw it. -Oh baby, - she said, taking a step toward me. I should have backed away, but I stuck a finger through that hole and pulled her closer. Her hands reached for my dick and we kissed. We probably both tasted like coffee mixed with morning breath, but neither of us cared. My hands were under her shirt, caressing her back, her ass, and I pressed my erection hard against her. I looked toward the bedroom door. -We fucked just before I came out. He won -(TM)t be up for an hour. - With that, I tore her shirt open. Two hands working on that small hole until she was exposed from her neck to the hem of the shirt. My cock was sticking out the vent in my boxers and Angela had a firm grip on it. She rubbed the head against her slit until it was shiny with moisture. Then she rubbed some more until I sensed a brief tremor. Maybe she thought that was going to be it. Maybe she didn -(TM)t get off when she and Mark had just fucked and needed a release. I don -(TM)t know about any of that. I took a step back, discarded my boxers, and then tore at her shirt until there was nothing left but rags covering her shoulders. For a moment I thought I saw fear in her eyes. Maybe this was a side of me she hadn -(TM)t seen before. But with her ass pressed against the kitchen sink, I entered her. To say she was ready was an understatement. Her hands bit hard into my ass pulling me deep inside her. I leaned back so we could both watch as we slowly fucked, my dick nearly exiting her body, then sliding back in as far as it would go. She ground into me as if to hurry things along. But I wasn -(TM)t about to have any part of that. I was where I always longed to be and I was going to take my time. She pushed me away and rubbed her back where the countertop had cut into it. I turned her around and entered from behind. With her hands on the edge of the sink, she drove her ass back into me, again at a pace I didn -(TM)t want to match. I put my hands on her hips to hold us still. Then slid one hand up to tweak a nipple while the other dipped low, through her hair until I felt my cock. Then I began to move again, one finger riding her slit while my cock moved in and out. I could feel her spasms with both my dick and my hand and yet I was still not done. Oh, I could have been. I could have driven hard and climaxed almost as soon as I entered her. But this was something to be savored and not rushed. I pulled out and she seemed to think we were done, that she was going to keep loading that fucking dishwasher. But I pulled her to a nearby chair, where I sat down and guided her onto me. I pulled what was left of her shirt off, and we faced each other fully naked, my cock firmly embedded in her cunt. She rocked back and forth slowly, and we could see the gap between us where a few inches of my erection were on display before she rocked forward, ending the separation. There was a look in her eyes that suggested tension, like she was aware of her husband just beyond the bedroom door, but also aware of how good it felt, how right it felt, to be fucking me that Sunday morning. I pulled her close for a lingering kiss. We kept our eyes open as if to ensure we both knew who we were kissing, who we were fucking. She started rocking harder and this time I was in synch with her movements. I could feel it building in us both. The whole time I held her gaze, never turned my eyes away. Ever look into a woman -(TM)s eyes when you are close enough to kiss? You can see yourself reflected in them and you know that she can see herself as well. And you know how hard it is to cum with your eyes open? But we did it. We felt the tension mount, our breathing reach a crescendo, our bodies driving ever faster. But we never looked away. Not once. And as we came, another kiss with eyes wide open. It was only minutes later that we were in her car, headed out to get breakfast like we -(TM)d done so many times before. Standing in line at the Starbucks, I -(TM)m thinking just how much do I reek of sex? How long does that pussy smell linger on your face? And Christ, what must my dick smell like, the slimy bastard tucked inside my boxers and my cargo shorts? I just ordered Ange -(TM)s cappuccino, my latte, and Mark -(TM)s caramel macchiato. Back in the car, all you could smell was food and coffee. Maybe we could pull this off after all. Mark was sitting at the kitchen table reading something on his iPad. He -(TM)d helped himself to a cup of regular coffee. We set the bag of food and the coffee carrier on the table and Angela went straight to the bathroom. Mark was staring at me, making serious eye contact. I was sure we were busted, but then he produced the leopard print panties. -Want to tell me about these? - I just smiled sheepishly. -Not the redhead? - I tilted my head in affirmation, a silly grin forming on my face. -Never saw that coming, - Mark said. -Me either. - -You have to understand, - Timothy, -in the philosophy department calling someone a pseudo-intellectual is a mortal insult. - I sat down and we began to eat. -To be fair, - I said, -she didn -(TM)t actually call me that. When I was trying to justify my spending the summer in Europe, which she said was extravagant, I said I thought that you really couldn -(TM)t appreciate your own country until you had spent some time outside it. - -Which she said was a very pseudo-intellectual thing to say. A minor distinction, my friend. - Angela came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel that afforded us both a view of her legs and a hint of bush. She tried to get past us, but Mark pulled her onto his lap, putting her even more on display. -Your boy tell you he got lucky? - -I made him give me all the details. Evidently, she has a bra that matches those panties, so she -(TM)s certain to want them back. - -Her name is Connie Ferguson and she -(TM)s in my 11:00 class tomorrow. Maybe you want to meet me after class and accidentally run into her? - I smiled my appreciation for the suggestion. Then rose to leave. Angela followed me to the door. -You don -(TM)t want to step outside in the towel sweetheart. Timothy and I are one thing, but the general public isn -(TM)t quite ready for you. - We both laughed. -Good luck with Ms. Ferguson, - Angela said, her hand on my shoulder. From the kitchen, we could hear Mark say, -Who loads the dishwasher and doesn -(TM)t bother to run it? - Angela and I exchanged a look and then I was on my way. Part 2 Caught in the Act My only classes on Mondays were at 10 and 1. My plan was to meet my friend Mark when his 11 o -(TM)clock class let out and -accidentally - run into Connie Ferguson, a mutual acquaintance who was in his class. I had something to return to her and I hoped we have lunch together to discuss it. I spotted Mark right away. Hard to miss a guy with an entourage of coeds hanging on his every word. Connie wasn -(TM)t one of them. He headed my way, ignoring the girls, as any happily married man should, and punched me in the shoulder. -Feeling lucky? - -Not in the least, - I replied. -She should be coming this way, so let -(TM)s give her a minute. - We started talking about football which had the effect of lighting up massive cigars whose smoke would drive away mosquitoes, women, children and small animals. Mark -(TM)s entourage disappeared. I glanced at the building Mark had come from and saw Connie heading our way. Trying to be nonchalant, I did not turn in her direction but kept chatting with Mark. The next thing I knew she was blowing past us with a quick, -Hey guys! - She never broke her stride. -You are sure it was her Saturday night? - I gave him a look that said, -Dumb question. - -Well look at it this way, - said Mark, the eternal optimist, -she blew you off Saturday night only to leave her underwear with you on the couch. - -Yeah? - -So maybe she just blew you off again only to follow up later in a decidedly carnal manner. You did notice how her ass was swinging? - -Hard to miss. - This was not how I had excepted my day to go. I had envisioned a brief chat with the three of us and then me inviting her to lunch. After my 1 o -(TM)clock class, I was back in my dorm room reading. My roommate, Dave, was sitting at his desk tapping away at his notebook. The door swung open without a knock and I looked up hoping to see my red-headed friend, but instead, there was Angela, Mark -(TM)s wife, my best friend on the planet, and as of the day before, my secret lover. I never thought of Dave as being particularly astute, but he quickly packed up his notebook and was out the door. Angela and I just stared at each other. Dave must have read the look between us because it said one thing and one thing only. -I want you. - I barely had a chance to put my book down before she was on me. There was nothing tentative in our kiss. It was a full speed ahead battle of the tongues. My hands were caressing her naked back under a loose-fitting t-shirt. She was wearing sweat shorts, her go-to this time of year, and I quickly had my hands around her ass, pulling her closer. The thing I remember the most was how hot she felt. Almost like a fever. There are few things in life as arousing as having a beautiful woman desire you. She ground her sex against mine and for a moment I thought I would cum in my boxers. We separated long enough to stare into each other -(TM)s eyes. Like the day before, it was as though we wanted to confirm who we were with, what we were doing. She pulled her shirt over her head while I jerked her shorts and panties down. I didn -(TM)t think for a moment about my clothes. I just wanted to bury my face between her legs. Her hands were in my hair, her thighs pressed against my face while my lips and tongue explored her every recess. She came so fast it caught me off guard. My tongue was just finding its rhythm. But she was pulling at me, bringing my face to meet hers and she lapped up every hint of where my tongue had been. Then it was my turn to strip. My shirt over my head as she unfastened my cargo shorts. As my dick was set free, she latched onto it with her mouth. I felt her tongue, her teeth as she engulfed me. But that wasn -(TM)t what she really wanted. No, she wanted me inside her and I was quick to oblige. -I -(TM)m not going to last long, - I whispered. She just pressed herself all the more harder onto me, grinding and turning and devouring me with her sex. Far too soon it was over. I had released myself physically and emotionally into her very core and we both lay together panting. It took a moment to realize that we weren -(TM)t alone. Evidently Dave failed to lock the door on his way out and we had an observer. I -(TM)m sure we were both surprised to see Connie Ferguson leaning against the closed door. I had no idea how long she had been there, but she had a misty-eyed look to her and a strange Mona Lisa smile on her face. -You know these things lock, - she said, turning the latch and locking us in. Angela and I were speechless. -I think everyone in the philosophy department thinks you two are fucking except me. And now I know better. Silly me. After Saturday night, I thought for sure I was right. I mean, how could you fuck me on Angela -(TM)s couch if the two of you are having an affair? - Angela found her t-shirt and put it on. I used mine to cover my lap. I guess we were presentable. -It isn -(TM)t what you think, - Angela said. -Really? I -(TM)ve never watched anyone fuck before, not in real life, but you two seemed really vested in it. If you try to tell me this is some casual thing that just happened, I -(TM)m not buying it. - -The truth is, - I said, glancing at Angela, -We really don -(TM)t know what this is. - Angela was shaking her head as if to affirm that she was clueless herself. -You don -(TM)t mind if I sit down, do you? - She pulled the chair from my desk and dropped into it. -Watching you has left me a little weak in the knees. - -How long have you been here? - I asked. -When I came in you had your face buried between her legs. - That was pretty much the beginning. Angela and I looked at each other, amazed that we could have missed her. -You two were pretty into it. I doubt you knew what planet you were on, let alone who might have slipped into the room. - -I was hoping I would see you again, - I said. -I doubt that very much. - -No, - Angela said. -He wants to return your panties. - -And send me on my way. - -I -(TM)m certain that was not his plan. - Angela laughed. Somehow this situation was starting to feel normal. -He was going to negotiate with you. - -For what? - -To see you in the matching bra. - Connie smiled. She made eye contact with Angela and then me and then she pulled her t-shirt over her head revealing a leopard print bra. -I hate you, - Angela said without emotion. -What on earth for? - -Those breasts. I would kill to have your cleavage. - Connie was pretty impressive, I had to admit. I know nothing about bust sizes and bra cups, but Ms. Ferguson had ample curves and I couldn -(TM)t help but imagine sliding my dick between her lightly freckled breasts. -Big boobs are far more trouble than they are worth. - -Bull. - -No, seriously. Guys stare at them. They can -(TM)t see beyond them. Flash a little cleavage and it turns them into infants. Their lips start to purse like they -(TM)re ready to suck their next meal out of you. - Angela looked at me. -Timothy isn -(TM)t doing that. - -He -(TM)s different. A large part of why I like him. The other thing with big boobs is they always get in the way. You bump into things and people with them. It -(TM)s embarrassing. And you have to wear a bra constantly. Otherwise, they droop and pull at your shoulders. - She tugged at the center of her bra. -I don -(TM)t wear this for fun. - -Timothy said you weren -(TM)t wearing one Saturday night. - Connie smiled. -But I did. I just had a blouse and a blazer on over it. - I started to speak, but Connie cut me off. -While I was waiting to see if Mark and Angela would grant us some privacy, I went into the bathroom and took it off. - -Wow, - was all I could say. Angela was smiling. -You wanted to seal the deal. - -It thought of it as leverage. - -Well it worked then and I suspect it -(TM)s working now. - Angela pulled my shirt from my lap to reveal the beginnings of an erection. I gave her a hard stare and pulled a pillow onto my lap. -So may I have my panties back now? - -Maybe, - Angela said. -Maybe? - I looked at Angela and then at Connie. I had no clue what she was up to. -I think we -(TM)d like to see them both on you. - -You want me to change my panties right here in front of you? - Angela just smiled. Connie began to unfasten her cutoffs. They were denim with strategically placed rips. Underneath she sported a pair of white bikini panties. I climbed from my bed, carrying the pillow in front of my crotch to get her panties from my backpack. When I handed them to Connie, she said, -Lose the pillow, Timothy. We both know what you -(TM)ve got under there. - My head was spinning. Talk about being overwhelmed. I mean this is the stuff wet dreams are made of and it -(TM)s happening right now in my dorm room. I set the pillow down and sat on my bed near Angela. She glanced at my semi-erect dick then looked me in the eyes. She wasn -(TM)t smiling. -This is getting weird, Ange, - I said. Still no smile. Connie -(TM)s panties came down to reveal a thin covering of red hair. -Nice to see you -(TM)re a natural redhead, - Angela offered. -Yeah. I -(TM)ve been tempted to sprinkle a bit of ginger powder down there before going on a promising date. - That earned a smile. -I asked Timothy if you were a natural redhead and he wasn -(TM)t sure. - -Really? - -It was dark, - I said. -Not that dark. - -It kinda was. - Now I was at full mast, looking at Connie -(TM)s snatch and recalling how I buried my face between her legs Saturday night. Now the leopard print panties were on and Connie stood and turned around to complete our inspection. -Guess it -(TM)s time for me to get dressed and leave you two lovebirds alone. - Angela stood up, her shirt only half covering her bush. -I -(TM)m the one who doesn -(TM)t belong here, - she said, looking for her panties. -I don -(TM)t think Timothy agrees. - Disappointment was etched across my face. -Timothy has been my best friend since middle school and I love him dearly. But he doesn -(TM)t deserve this. - -Doesn -(TM)t deserve what? - Connie asked. -Two half-naked girls fighting over him. - -I -(TM)m not fighting. He -(TM)s all yours. - -But he -(TM)s not. - -Look at that face. He sure wants to be. - Truth be told, I didn -(TM)t want either of them to leave, but Connie had it right. I really wanted to be with Angela. If I was forced to choose, there would be no contest. Angela walked over to Connie and gave her a hug. I thought it was a sweet thing to do until I realized she had unfastened the girl -(TM)s bra. I couldn -(TM)t see Angela -(TM)s face, but Connie -(TM)s smile was impossible to miss. Had I missed something? Was there some quiet signal sent between them? A glance, maybe? A quick furtive look away? If it was there, I missed it. Angela tossed the bra to me and it landed on my erection, where it hung like someone tossed a hat onto a hat rack. I sat there motionless as Connie pulled the t-shirt up and over my best friend -(TM)s head. The late afternoon light was bright enough to illuminate both women. These were California girls, with tan lines year-round. Alison -(TM)s ass, where the sun seldom shown offered two pale globes, each being caressed by the red head -(TM)s freckled hands. I sat there, fully ignored with a leopard print bra hanging from my dick. I was tempted to clear my throat, remind them of my presence, but I was far too keen on seeing where this was going to go to make a sound. Angela slowly dropped to her knees taking Connie -(TM)s panties with her. The redhead placed her hands on Angela -(TM)s head for balance as she stepped out of her last remaining garment. Angela turned to me and said, -We need the bed. - Was I shocked? You could knock me over with the proverbial feather, but I still got out of their way. I stood by the door as Connie lay back on my pillow. Angela followed her closely and began to suckle the large freckled breasts she claimed to envy. Then she kissed her way down to the soft nest of red hair that I had explored with both my mouth and my dick less than two days ago. Angela -(TM)s feet were on the floor and her legs were spread far enough for me to see her sex calling to me. I reached out to caress her gently and meeting no resistance, slowly took my place between her legs. It was hard not to rush things. I sorely wanted release. But rather than drive my dick into her with abandon, I used slow, gentle strokes. I could hear Connie -(TM)s orgasm. She made no attempt to be quiet. And shortly thereafter, Angela pushed me away only to turn to me and kiss me with lips covered in Connie -(TM)s dew. Our tongues danced as I pressed my erection against her. I knew that with the least bit of attention I would explode, but once again, Angela pulled away. She looked at me, at my dick, then turned and looked at Connie and I knew what she wanted. Connie stared at us both, her knees wide apart. And I fell on her, like a starving wolf on innocent prey. I was in her as far as I could go. And the two of us writhed, torturing the bedclothes, heedless of anything else. I was vaguely aware of Angela -(TM)s hands on my ass. More along for the ride than directing me or pushing into our friend. I remember cumming, pouring every ounce of my consciousness into that lovely girl. And then the world went black. -You need a shower. - That was Dave. He repeated himself twice until my eyes finally opened. I was sprawled naked on my bed and Dave had a look of mild disgust on his face. -I didn -(TM)t want to open the windows with you lying naked like that. You -(TM)re on top of all your covers and I wasn -(TM)t about to cover you with anything of mine! - I rummaged for a towel and my shave kit. -Your friends left some time ago. Guess they literally fucked your brains out. You just became legend on this floor, bro. - Legend? I was just a confused fool in desperate need of a shower.