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Archive name: boldmove.txt (MF, exh, 1st, oral, true)
Authors name: Ethan (address withheld by request)
Story title : Bold Move

--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

A Bold Move
by Ethan (address withheld by request)

***

A true story from my college days when I indulged in a 
little exhibitionism in the coed shower for the shy girl 
across the hall. She seemed intrigued, and I made the 
bold decision to take it a step further. (MF, exh, 1st, 
oral, true)

***

The history of my sex life is generally uneventful and 
boring. There is one stark exception, though, which I 
will tell you about now, the only really wild and 
spontaneous encounter I've ever had. It is also a 
cautionary tale, one that I hope others may learn from. 
This is how it really happened:

My college dorm had an unusual arrangement for its 
bathrooms. The dorm was divided vertically into 
"entries," small units with 6 rooms per floor. Each 
floor had a single co-ed bathroom with two stalls, two 
latrines, and a double shower. The arrangement was 
probably quite sensible back when the dorm (in fact, 
almost the entire school) had been men-only. 

With women in the picture, new etiquette had evolved. 
The bathroom door was normally open. If you were in the 
bathroom, you closed the door. If you needed to use the 
bathroom and the door was closed, you knocked - the 
occupant would either reply "come in" if they were in a 
closed stall or just doing their hair or whatever, or 
"go away" if they were naked or just didn't like 
sharing. 

Some people, myself included, would even let others come 
into the bathroom while we showed. The shower curtain 
was opaque, and the practice helped to move people 
through during the high-traffic times of the morning.

There was a mousy little girl who lived in the room 
right across the hall from the bathroom on my floor. She 
wasn't what I would call really attractive, but had a 
certain appeal because of her small size and shyness. I 
didn't know her name. She had dark, slightly curly 
shoulder-length hair and slightly dark skin. 

I had only ever heard her speak a few words, but she 
seemed to have a little bit of an accent, and I imagined 
she might be from Greece or Lebanon or some Eastern 
Mediterranean place. It was not unusual for her to knock 
on the bathroom door while I was showing in the morning, 
and I could always tell when it was her by how soft and 
tentative her knock was.

So I was in college. I was male. I was horny as hell. I 
would often wake up with a powerful hard-on which I 
would relieve with a little morning jerk in the shower. 
One morning, getting lathered up and searching mentally 
for a good fantasy, I thought of the girl across the 
hall. 

Not long after, I heard the almost reluctant-sounding 
knock on the door. Hormones raging, I decided to have 
some fun with her. I reached up and drew the shower 
curtain. It would have sounded to her that I was making 
sure I was completely covered up before giving her the 
okay to come in. I wasn't. I had drawn it open halfway. 
I told her to come in.

The sinks and a long mirror were along the wall opposite 
the shower. I stood facing the showerhead, away from 
her, pretending to wash normally. She said nothing. I 
heard the sink running. I snuck a quick look back at 
her, trying to make it as natural a part of my washing 
as possible. 

She was in a pink robe, wearing her glasses (apparently 
she wore contacts during the day), her hair a bit messy. 
She was filling a small coffeepot at the sink, and she 
was looking in the mirror at me. Seeing me seeing her, 
she quickly smiled in an embarrassed way, shut off the 
sink, and hurried out of the room.

I smiled at myself, pleased to have made an impression 
on her, closed my soapy hand around my cock and gently 
fucked myself as I thought about roughly penetrating the 
mousy girl from behind.

It was only a minute or two later - I hadn't had nearly 
enough time to come - that I heard her knock again. I 
was taken quite by surprise. I turned back to the 
showerhead like I had been the first time, and told her 
again to come in. The sink started running. And it ran. 
And it ran. 

I managed another glance. She had the coffee pot again. 
I was amused at how pathetic an excuse it was. She was 
looking at me in the mirror. I looked right at her and 
gave her my best unashamed, unaccusatory, friendly 
smile, then turned back away. The water ran a little 
while longer, then she left.

At this point, the adrenaline was really flowing. The 
possibility screamed at me: What if she came back again? 
What should I do? My cock was throbbing at full 
extension.

I didn't have time to decide. In under two minutes she 
knocked again. I invited her in. She still had her 
coffee pot. The excuse was way past ridiculous. She was 
undoubtedly fascinated. Did she want me to fuck her? I 
guessed she probably didn't know, just kept coming back 
because she felt drawn. I couldn't imagine that she was 
very sexually experienced. Perhaps a virgin, perhaps 
not, but definitely inexperienced. What did I want? I 
had to do something. 

My adrenaline level was so high I was having mild 
shakes. What did I want? It was too difficult, so I 
retreated to an easier question: What did I not want? I 
decided that this was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of 
opportunity, that what I would regret most would be not 
having taken this chance at a steamy sexual encounter 
with a near stranger. 

This still didn't tell me what exactly I wanted to do 
with her, but I knew I had to make a move. She was 
uncertain, so I had to be assertive. I was so hyped up 
that this whole thought process only took about 5 
seconds from start to finish. I turned around to face 
her.

One step at a time, now. Whatever we were going to do, 
it would require privacy. The shower still running, not 
saying anything, not bothering to dry off, I stepped out 
of the shower, walked past her, and locked the door, 
leaving drips and pools on the floor from my wet body. I 
turned back toward her again with a gentle smile. She 
looked scared, but didn't move. Okay, that was a good 
next step: calm her down.

"I'm glad you came back," I said, trying for a 
combination of soothing and sexy in my tone. I advanced 
toward her slowly, put my arms around her waist, and 
kissed her. She closed her eyes and parted her lips 
slightly. She was a tentative kisser, at least right 
now. I moved one hand up to the middle of her back and 
tangled the fingers of the other in her hair. I pressed 
my body up against hers and gently opener her lips wider 
using mine. She was slowly but surely relaxing.

I tried a little tongue. She started to pull her head 
back. More assertive, I thought. If she won't even kiss 
you, it all stops here. I firmed my embrace behind her 
head and leaned further in, my tongue probing her 
boldly. In two seconds, she responded. I got the feeling 
she had never kissed like this before, but in an abrupt 
reversal, she started frenching me enthusiastically and 
reciprocating the pressure of my body against hers.

I let it go on for about 90 seconds. Then it was clearly 
time for escalation. An important wall had been broken 
down in her: she was now happily involved in an act of 
passion with me. I still didn't know where it was all 
headed, but I knew I wanted to keep the momentum. I 
moved both my hands slowly down to her ass. I caressed 
both her cheeks through her robe and whatever else she 
had on underneath. (What that was, I hadn't had the 
opportunity to find out yet.) Then I held her firmly by 
the hips and ground my pelvis against hers. She 
immediately grabbed my ass and sunk her fingers deeply 
into the cheeks, exhaling impatiently. 

This was nice, but I could tell it wouldn't be long 
before I rubbed my dick raw against the terrycloth of 
her robe. I reluctantly withdrew from her mouth and 
turned my attention to her neck, my body pulling back 
just a hair from hers as I moved lower. Her hands went 
to my head and she ran her fingers through my hair, 
letting her head tilt back as I nibbled around her 
neckline. 

I undid the tie of her robe and reached inside to cup 
her breasts through the faded blue t-shirt she wore 
underneath. She was braless, of course, and her breasts 
felt magical, only about a B-cup, I would guess, but the 
perfect size for her frame. I continued to let my body 
slowly sink, planting kisses down the front of her shirt 
to her belly until I was kneeling in front of her, my 
hands now on her hips.

It had been as perfect as a wet dream up to this point, 
but I was getting too lost in it, and wasn't being 
careful enough. Too soon, I slipped my hands under the 
hem of her shirt and into the waistband of her plain, 
somewhat old, white panties, one hand at each hip, 
intending to strip the panties swiftly off. It was as if 
she woke suddenly from a trance. 

She gripped my wrists and looked down at me with an 
almost terrified expression. I looked back, frozen and 
suddenly confused. Damn! Then she turned quickly and 
yanked the door handle. It didn't open - you'll remember 
I had locked it a few minutes earlier. She hurriedly and 
clumsily unlocked the door with her shaky hands as I 
stood and put a hand on her shoulder rather tentatively. 
She ignored my gesture and ran out of the bathroom, a 
few steps across the hall, and disappeared into her 
room. Damn, damn, damn!

I turned off the shower - I had finished washing long 
before. I toweled off and started to wrap my towel 
around my waist, then stopped and hung it back on the 
hook so I could brush my teeth in the nude, just in case 
she came back. She didn't, so I wrapped it around me and 
went out.

I paused, facing her door, for several seconds, lost in 
my disappointment. Then - was I imagining it? - it 
seemed I heard the faintest of rhythmic sounds coming 
from her room. I glanced up and down the short hall, 
then moved quietly closer and put my ear near the door, 
not quite touching it. There was a sound. It was very 
soft, but there was just the hint of the creak of a 
mattress, then eventually, a muted, high-pitched squeak 
that sounded like a choked-off cry, then a short while 
later, another. My pulse was once again racing. She was 
masturbating.

I knocked on the door. The noises stopped. Nothing 
happened. I knocked again. I heard her getting up and 
walking to the door. There was a pause - she was 
probably looking through the peephole - then the door 
slowly opened partway and she peeked her head around its 
edge, hiding her body behind it.

"Can I come in?" I asked. She opened the door wider and 
stepped back. I entered and closed it behind me, my eyes 
fixed on hers and hers on mine. She wore her t-shirt, 
but not the robe or glasses. I moved two steps forward, 
which she matched with two steps backward. Then she 
stopped and I closed the distance between us and slid my 
hands around her waist, lowering my head to kiss her 
again.

Something was different: I couldn't feel the waistband 
of her panties through the shirt. My hands glided out to 
her hips and back around her waist, confirming that she 
had removed her panties to finger herself. We had been 
kissing tenderly, but I swiftly ramped up the passion at 
this discovery. 

I ran my hands over her back and her ass, my palms flat 
and firm against her. She imitated this, and soon tugged 
loose my towel to include my bare butt in her caresses. 
She was definitely back into it. The hem of her shirt 
was riding up in the back, and I slipped my hands under 
it to feel her bare skin.

I could feel the urgency in her now, and the 
psychological barrier the panties had posed was now 
gone. I decided it was time to try again. I dropped to 
my knees, lifted her shirt a few inches, and kissed her 
clitoris through a matt of pubic hair. She didn't 
resist. 

I kissed up and down her closed slit a few times, then 
began a series of short licks from the bottom up to part 
her hair. Her taste was forbidden and delightful. I had 
eaten pussy several times before and thought I was 
getting pretty good at it. As I started to lick slowly 
and firmly up her now-exposed outer labia, though, she 
backed away.

The sudden rush of disappointment evaporated as quickly 
as it had come as she sat down on the edge of the bed 
and parted her legs slightly, holding out her hands to 
me. I crawled a few feet forward and resumed my 
ministrations, her fingers in my hair, holding me gently 
to her. 

My wet strokes parted her lips and caressed the length 
of her open slit. I dipped the tip of my tongue into the 
hole beneath at the start of each stroke, a little 
deeper each time, and flicked her clit at the end, a 
little harder each time. Her hands slowly pulled my head 
tighter to her crotch and she began to move her hips to 
my rhythm.

I opened my mouth wide and drove my tongue as deeply 
into her as possible, then drew her entire labia into my 
mouth and began to flick her clit repeatedly.

She lay back on the bed, then scooted herself up to get 
her heels on the bed. My mouth followed, remaining 
locked to her pussy, my tongue still working. Her heels 
slipped off and she briefly tried to reseat them, but 
quickly gave up and locked her ankles behind my head 
instead. She held me tightly with her hands and her legs 
and ground my face into her pussy. 

Her inhalations were sharp, and she made a few of the 
high squeaks I had heard from outside the door. Finally, 
after about five minutes of my merciless tongue-lashing, 
she began to breathe as if hyperventilating, and I saw 
her abdomen tense and felt her shudder. I eased and 
stopped my strokes as she released the pressure on my 
head. I continued to kiss her wet pussy gently for about 
30 seconds.

She propped herself up on her elbows, then struggled 
upright and sat on the edge of the bed. I moved to kiss 
her, but she tugged upward at my arms, indicating that 
she wanted me to stand. I did, and she tentatively 
touched my hard cock with the tips of her fingers, 
lightly caressing it. I let her explore. She used her 
fingertips for a minute, then her flat palms, finally 
rubbing the tip of my cock in small circles against her 
hand. This didn't feel very good - more rough and 
burning than pleasurable - so I guided her hand back 
down and wrapped her fingers around the shaft, then 
eased her head down toward it.

It was clear she had never given a blowjob before. She 
kissed the shaft and the head here and there with pursed 
lips, then gave several very small licks. She kissed the 
head with her lips slightly parted, putting it in ever 
so slightly. She glanced up at me, and I could see worry 
and frustration in her face. It wasn't working. I 
thought briefly about trying to teach her to suck cock, 
but I was worried about momentum. I needed something 
else.

I took half a step forward and found the hem of the t-
shirt she was still wearing. She held her arms up and I 
drew it over her head and off, dropping it on the floor. 
I cupped her breasts and held them together, making a 
nice little cleavage between them, then pressed my cock 
inside. My skin was clean and tacky, and her breasts 
were dry. There was too much friction, and it wouldn't 
slide. My penis, still large, was starting to loose some 
hardness. She looked up at me again, and I could see her 
mounting distress at not being able to please me. 
Something else, something else quickly.

There was only one other thing, and my racing mind 
finally hit upon the key to make it possible. I kissed 
her quickly and said, "Don't move," and ducked out the 
door, naked. In a flash, I was across the empty hallway 
and back in the bathroom. For reasons I never knew, and 
didn't at the moment care about, one of the other 
residents of my entry kept a box of condoms on the shelf 
by his (or maybe her) toiletries. I had always found 
this curious, but it was now my salvation. I ripped two 
off of the strip and dashed back to her room. 

She was still sitting on the bed, exactly as I had left 
her. She seemed a trace hopeful as she saw me re-enter, 
then a trace fearful as I ripped open one of the condoms 
and took it from its package. This was it. I pressed on.

As I neared, my dick grew fully hard again. Her eyes 
were locked on it. She slid backward on the bed, lying 
across it, until she could get her feet fully on the 
mattress, requiring that she prop her head against the 
wall. I rolled the condom on and crawled over her on the 
bed.

In my sex-crazed delirium, I wasn't thinking about her 
possible virginity. After a brief pause to find her 
entry, I slid cleanly in without obstruction. Whether 
from previous sexual experience or tampons or something 
else, her cherry had already been popped. She was small, 
and I filled her completely. Even through the condom, 
the sensation was electric. In no time, I was fucking 
her roughly, her hands over her shoulders to push back 
against the wall as I tried forcefully to drive her 
through it. 

With each stroke, I seemed to reach the very back of her 
cunt, only to find myself going deeper with the next. 
Her hips began to buck up to meet mine. In less than a 
minute, I exploded into her with a cry. She reached down 
to grab my ass and pulled me into her. My entire 
consciousness was in my cock, and I floated on 
endorphins. She hadn't come, but mine was an unutterably 
sublime orgasm.

We lay like that for a long time until my cock began to 
shrink and I withdrew it to remove the condom. I gave 
her an exhausted smile and said, "Wow." She smiled back.

Alas, I must now admit that I lied to you. This is not 
how it happened. Everything is true up until the third 
time she returned to the bathroom. But at that point, 
young and uncertain as I was, I didn't have the nerve to 
make a bold move. I did shut off the shower, draw back 
the curtain completely, step out, and dry myself off, 
facing her the whole time and smiling invitingly. 

It seemed like a big step at the time, but it fell far 
short of what I needed to draw her into spontaneous 
passion. There really was a box of condoms in the 
bathroom, so we really could have fucked. She stared 
openly as I dried off, then she left as I wrapped the 
towel around me. She never again knocked on the door 
while I was showering.

Young men and women, take heed: These chances are few 
and fleeting. Be fearless and bold, so that you won't 
have to live with the eternal regret that I do, and you 
will be able to write stories that are wholly true, not, 
like this one, only half-true and half-fantasized.

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 26