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--------------------------------------------------------
Copyright 1997 by The Bear. You may copy and distribute 
this file for personal use but not for financial gain. 
This file may be archived only if access to the archive 
is truly free and does not require any special 
membership or passwords. If I'm not making any money 
from this work, neither should you. All other rights 
reserved. 
--------------------------------------------------------

Sarah: My Best Friend's Girl
by The Bear (thebear@io.com)

***

A guy whose roommate brings his girlfriend to their room 
one night to screw, ends up being proposition by her 
when his roommate if away over a weekend. (MF, cheat)

***

It was the noise of the deadbolt lock clacking open that 
woke me. I lay there in my bunk, not moving, listening 
intently. I heard a scraping sound, the sound of the 
sliding-bolt skidlock being drawn back. That meant that 
it was someone inside the room getting ready to go out, 
because the skidlock could only be opened or closed from 
inside. It was probably my roommate Tom getting up to 
take a leak. The door opened, and light from the hallway 
streamed into the dark room.

Then I heard Tom's voice from below me, "Don't take all 
night," and Sarah's soft reply from the doorway, "I'll 
hurry."

So Sarah was spending the night with us again, or rather 
with Tom. That probably meant they were both low on 
cash, because they usually went to a motel.

I kept quiet, pretending to be asleep, while I thought 
over the possibilities. I was lying on my back, and I 
decided that this would be a good time to change to a 
better position, while Sarah was gone. I moved clumsily, 
with small grumbles, as if turning over naturally in my 
sleep.

I must have done a poor job of faking, or else Tom just 
wanted to talk, because I heard the springs squeak down 
below as he got out of bed and stood up beside me in the 
darkness.

"You awake?" His face was about a foot and a half away 
from mine. "Hey, Brian, you awake?" He wasn't going to 
give up, so I made more fake-sleep motions and opened 
one eye to look at him.

"Whaz? Whurra?" I rolled over completely, now that there 
was no need to feign sleep. "Whazzup?"

"Just Sarah taking a piss. She left the door open. Dumb 
skid." He shook his head. "Go back to sleep."

"Wha time zit?" I was still doing the half-asleep act, 
in case he cared.

"About two A.M.," he told me, sitting back down on his 
bunk. "Now you gotta be asleep before Sarah gets back, 
'cause I wanna get laid."

"Gotcha," I told him as I shifted to a comfortable face-
down position that just happened to give me an excellent 
view of the room. I settled down and tried to even out 
my breathing. I decided that fake snoring would be worse 
than useless, but at least I could do my best not to 
sound too wakeful.

A few minutes later Sarah was back. Backlit as she was 
coming through the doorway, I couldn't see much - just a 
hint of her dark red hair tousled around the silhouette 
of her head, and an impression that she was wearing 
something loose and bulky, like a t-shirt and 
sweatpants.

Sarah shut the door, cutting off the hallway glare. I 
heard her locking the locks, and could detect her faint 
pale shape as she moved from the doorway into the room. 
With the door shut, the room's only illumination was 
from the security light in the parking lot behind the 
Delta house next door, and from the streetlight across 
the street - together these leaked through the window-
shades and gave the room a ghostly dim light in which 
only the shapes of light-colored objects could be 
discerned.

"Is Brian awake?" she asked Tom as she came over to the 
bunk-beds.

"Nah, he's fast asleep. Come on, get back in bed... I've 
got something here that you want." I could hear the grin 
in his voice. Probably holding his dick in his hand, the 
bastard.

Sarah stood right next to me, and I let my eyelids ease 
shut from slitted to fully closed, as I tried my best to 
breathe like someone who was asleep would breathe.

"Yeah, I guess he's crashed. Good thing," her voice 
softened, "because I am really horny, lover-boy." (Yeah. 
Lover-boy. She really called him that. Gag me with a 
shovel.) 

I could hear sounds of clothing removal, and slitted my 
eyes open again to see her bent down next to the bed, 
right below me. Then she straightened to climb into the 
bed, and I could see the lovely whiteness of her flesh 
in the darkness - I could even see the round shape of 
her ass as she moved just a few feet below me, and I 
yearned to reach out and touch her.

I heard movement below. "Why you naughty boy, you're 
naked," she said to him, and I could imagine what part 
of him she must be touching. "Mmmm, and so hard, too." 
She confirmed what I had imagined.

I heard more movements below, the rustling of sheets, 
then Sarah's murmured, "Ah, ah, ah, oh yes, oh yes! Oh 
Yes All the Way." Then the slippery sound of her wet 
cunt moving up and down on his cock, a rhythmic squish - 
pause - squish - pause - squish. Gee, they hadn't wasted 
much time on foreplay, had they?

My cock was as hard as a bar of steel, and I'm surprised 
it didn't poke straight through the mattress. I wiggled 
my hand down underneath me and pulled it out through the 
fly of my boxer shorts, but there wasn't much I could do 
besides hold it and stroke it very, very slowly - 
anything else would have made too much noise. Maybe 
lying face down had not been such a good idea.

Tom muttered something about "getting this damned thing 
off" and suddenly something white sailed out to land on 
the couch - her t-shirt, I guessed. I pictured her 
fantastic tits, and tried to think if there was some way 
that I could see her, now that my eyes were getting used 
to the dark. Tom and I each had a mirror on the inside 
of our closet doors, and there was another on the wall 
near his desk, but none of these were properly 
positioned for me to see what was going on in the bottom 
bunk.

I couldn't see, but I sure could hear.

Soon after the t-shirt tossing, Sarah began to moan, 
"squeeze, squeeze." Then there was a sucking sound, that 
went on and on as she made low sounds of pleasure, until 
she murmured, "Now the other side," and there was a 
brief pause after which the sounds resumed, increasing 
in intensity. 

Oh GOD, he was sucking her tits, probably holding them 
in his hands, too, while she continued to ride up and 
down on his cock - I almost yelled for them to stop, it 
was so frustrating to hear them - but it was 
tantalizing, too, a savory torture that I wasn't ready 
to end yet.

I tried to wiggle closer to the wall, hoping that I 
might see down through the gap between my mattress and 
springs.

And the sounds of lovemaking from below me came to an 
abrupt halt.

SHIT! I froze, hardly even breathing, then remembered 
that I was supposed to be asleep and tried to make my 
breathing sound normal.

"What was that?" asked Sarah. "Do you think he's awake?"

"Nah, he sleeps like a rock - he just rolled over, he 
does it all the time."

The bed began to rock slightly, and Tom grunted with 
effort - probably arching his body to drive his cock up 
into her, trying to distract her with the sensations of 
sex. I guess it worked - I didn't hear anymore protest 
from Sarah, and the rhythmic humping sounds got faster 
and more frantic, until finally the bed was rocking for 
real, and I wondered how the hell they expected me to 
sleep through such a ruckus - then the movement stopped, 
and Tom was muttering, "yeah, yeah," as Sarah oohed and 
aahed. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he'd 
just shot his wad, and was pumping his come up into her 
pussy even then.

I was so jealous, I hoped that all of his come and her 
juices would drip down on his balls and glue their short 
curlies together, trapping them in the act of sex.

Then I dropped that in favor of the hope that Sarah 
would get up and walk naked around the room so that I 
could see her.

Then I just hoped that they would quit snuggling and 
cooing and go to sleep so that I could sneak out to the 
bathroom and jerk off. 

And that is what finally happened.

**

It was only a few weeks later that I came home very 
drunk from a date that had turned out badly - so badly, 
in fact, that I'd ditched the date by 9:00 PM and stayed 
out past midnight drinking with some other girls that I 
knew, then had to walk home from downtown because I was 
way too tanked to drive. I struggled unsteadily up the 
front staircase at our fraternity house and wobbled down 
the short length of hallway to my room. 

Tom was up watching TV and talking on the phone to 
Sarah. I told him to tell her 'hello' for me, as I 
staggered to our bunk-bed and leaned my head against the 
frame for support while I toed out of my sneakers and 
shucked off my jeans. I left the sneakers where they 
were and dropped the jeans on top of them, figuring that 
would make them that much easier to find in the morning, 
then worked on getting up into my rack.

My usual (sober) procedure of grabbing the frame, 
jumping up, and lifting and twisting myself the rest of 
the way over onto my mattress with upper body strength 
alone was simply not possible in my drunken state - if I 
had tried it I probably would have lost my grip on the 
bed and crashed my face into the steel framework, or 
misjudged the jump/twist and smashed my head through the 
ceiling (that one I'd actually done once before I 
learned better - it turned out that the 75-year-old 
fraternity house and its plaster ceilings were much 
stronger than my head). 

Instead, I went down the length of the bed, holding onto 
the frame for support like a baby learning to walk, then 
carefully climbed up the ladder at the end and crawled 
down to rest my head on my pillow.

I had closed my eyes and was in the process of sinking 
down into blissful oblivion when Tom called my name. 
"Hey Brian, you awake? Wake up, ya boon - Sarah wants to 
talk to you."

I opened my eyes and turned my head towards him to let 
him know that I was awake, then held out my hand for the 
cordless phone. I expected Tom to toss the phone up to 
me from his seat on the couch, but he properly judged 
the likelihood of me actually being able to catch it and 
brought it to me instead.

Sarah wanted to know how my date had gone. "Tom said you 
came in wasted - what happened to your date with the 
horse girl?"

The horse girl? The horse girl? I wracked my brain for a 
reference. Oh yes, the bitch I had started the evening 
by taking out to dinner. She was one of those equestrian 
types from Stephens, had been jabbering on about her 
bloody horse all through dinner - part of the reason I 
had dumped her by nine.

"Oh, uh, her, well, we didn't really get along too great 
- I walked her back to Stephens campus and went back 
downtown to drink free wine at Walker's with Kari and 
that kid partner of hers, uh, Sabrina." Kari was a 
Little Sister at our house, and also the actual little 
sister of one of my fraternity brothers. Sabrina was a 
sixteen-year-old local girl that Kari had met somewhere 
and had adopted as a party-buddy. They always seemed to 
be out at the bars together, even though neither one of 
them was of legal drinking age.

"...Walker's?" Sarah was asking.

"Huh? What?"

"Oh geez, you're too drunk to even talk to. I said, 'How 
did you get free wine at Walker's?'."

"Oh, uh, yeah. There was this band... I think Kari knew 
some of them... anyway we were there listening to the 
band."

Sarah's voice got very low and even, the way you'd talk 
to a child. "OK, so there was a band. You listened to 
the band. How did you get free wine?"

"It was some kind of Ladies' Night thing."

"Brian. I'm trying to be patient with you. I don't know 
why I even care, but now you've got me curious. One more 
time - you are not a lady, or even a gentleman - so how 
does Ladies' Night at Walker's equal free wine for you?"

I think I crossed my eyes, I was trying so hard to 
concentrate on what she was asking. Why didn't she 
understand? Then I got it. "Oh, yeah. The free wine was 
for Kari and the kid, but they kept pouring theirs into 
my glass and then going back for more. It was great."

"Well, I'm glad you had fun. Too bad about the horse 
girl..."

"That bitch!" I was awake and on a roll now. "All she 
wanted to talk about was her damned horse, and her 
damned horse farm back home, and her damned horse 
classes, and her damned horse-girl friends, probably all 
a bunch of dykes, aren't they - it's probably the damned 
horse girls give Stephens a bad name, bunch of damned 
dykes..."

I could have kept on going at length, but Sarah was 
saying my name over and over, and louder and louder, 
"Brian! Brian! Brian! Are you listening to me?"

That was her mistake, pausing to wait for a response, 
because it gave me a chance to build up momentum again. 
"There you go, just like that damned horse bitch, or 
mare, or whatever the hell she is - always asking if I'm 
listening, while she goes on and on about some shit like 
grooming or posting or some kind of horsey shit. Yeah, 
that's it, horse shit. And yet she keeps on asking me if 
I'm listening to all of this horse shit, which of course 
I'm not really, but I'm trying to be polite and see if I 
can get anywhere with her..."

"Brian! Brian! You need to go to sleep now - why don't 
you give the phone back to Tom?"

"But goddamnit Sarah, it just isn't fair! I keep going 
out with these damn bitches, buy 'em a nice dinner, try 
to get 'em to go out dancing, and they're all just a 
bunch of damn worthless skid bitches - no, if they were 
skids at least I'd get laid - don't you have any decent 
friends for me to go out with?"

She was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "Don't 
worry about it Brian. Tom will be out of town this 
weekend and you and I will have lots of fun together."

I was in shock. I was speechless. I literally could not 
talk. I held out the phone to Tom, and he came and got 
it, and soon after that I must have passed out.

**

I suffered the next day, of course. I had always bragged 
to my buddies about how I could drink anything, get 
completely tanked, wasted, latered, tatered, toasted, 
and I'd never be sick or hung-over. That was before I 
met up with cheap wine. The first time I ever had a 
bottle of Mad Dog 2020 I drank it down like grape juice, 
then drank half of a friend's bottle, too. 

The next morning I thought I was dead, or at least 
wished I was. This cheap wine that they had been giving 
away free at Walker's was a similar vintage, and had the 
same effects on me. I spent the morning in bed with ice 
bags on my head, vowing never again to drink anything 
but beer, whiskey, vodka, schnapps... well, never again 
to drink any of that vile purple stuff, anyway.

Sometime after lunch, when I was starting to feel 
better, I remembered Sarah's last words on the phone. 
Had she really said that? Tom was out of the room, and I 
almost called Sarah to ask - but then I couldn't. What 
if she hadn't said it, what if I'd just imagined it?

No, I was sure she had said it - but I wasn't about to 
ask her what she meant. I would just have to wait for 
the upcoming weekend, when Tom would be out of town at a 
job interview and we would be having the Little Sisters 
over for a Friday night party - I think it was supposed 
to be a "Last Bash Before Thanksgiving Break" or 
something like that. You know, any excuse for a party.

I would just have to wait.

**

I sat in my room, listening to the party getting started 
downstairs. I should be down there, having a beer, 
talking to the Little Sisters that I knew and any 
friends they had brought with them, trying to meet Ms. 
Right, or at least Ms. OK-for-Awhile. I hadn't had a 
steady girlfriend that whole semester, or the preceding 
summer, or... for awhile. I'd managed to get laid a few 
times anyway, one night stand kinds of things, but never 
anything that lasted more than a few dates. 

I envied Tom having Sarah - not only was she a nice 
girl, a good friend of mine, someone I could talk to, 
dance with, or drink with... but she was also a sex 
maniac, always dragging Tom off to motels for the night, 
or staying over at our room and screwing him after they 
thought I was asleep. Tom even bragged about how great 
she was at giving head.

He didn't deserve her. He treated her like shit. He lied 
to her constantly, even about little things like saying 
that he had to study for a test when he was really just 
watching TV and feeling too lazy to get up and go out 
with her somewhere.

She would be much better off with me.

And yet - Tom was my buddy, my best friend, my roommate, 
and more like a brother to me than any of our other 
fraternity "brothers." It would be "un-brotherly" to 
make moves on his girlfriend - that was one of the worst 
offenses in our fraternal code, un-brotherly conduct. 
Worse than that, for me, it would be wrong. It would be 
a betrayal of Tom, of our friendship. It didn't matter 
how he treated her - that was between them. Tom would 
never forgive me for doing anything with Sarah.

Doing anything with her. Like holding her, or kissing 
her, or touching her. Like making love with her. 
Anything like that. It would be wrong. And I knew that 
if she made even the slightest move on me, I'd be hers 
in a heartbeat.

I got up and went downstairs to the party.

**

The first people that I saw as I headed down into the 
basement were Mark, a young freshman brother who looked 
as drunk as the proverbial skunk already, and Sabrina, 
Kari's little pal. They had their arms around each other 
and I probably could have won good money betting that 
they were headed for his room. 

I stopped them and took Mark aside to explain to him 
that Sabrina was only sixteen years old, whereas he was 
probably eighteen or nineteen himself, and that even 
such a seemingly minor age difference could get him 20 
years in the Missouri Department of Corrections. He 
wisely decided to take her back downstairs to dance some 
more, and probably to dump her at the first chance and 
try to find a piece that wasn't jailbait. Sabrina was 
really pissed off at me, but who told her she could come 
to our parties and get our innocent young boys in 
trouble? Certainly not me.

I went on after them, to the big party room. Then I saw 
Sarah.

She was standing with a group of her friends, several of 
the Little Sisters who came from Stephens College. I got 
my beer from a brother behind the bar and walked toward 
Sarah's group. She turned and saw me coming, and smiled, 
just as she normally would. I guess my smile back at her 
was a little bit off or something, because her smile 
froze in place and she started to look nervous.

When I reached her she immediately reached out to grab 
my beer and put it on the wall shelf with hers, then 
took my hands in hers and pulled me out to the middle of 
the basement, where people were dancing. There was 
nothing strange about that - we both liked to dance, and 
frequently danced together when Tom wasn't in the mood.

Neither of us spoke, as the song ended and a new one 
began. It was The Romantics singing "What I Like About 
You," a good high-energy song, normally one of our 
favorite dance tunes, but I just couldn't get into it. I 
had to force myself into our usual routine, playfully 
pointing at each other every time the words "what I like 
about you" came up. I didn't even work up a sweat by the 
time the song was done. I was just going through the 
motions.

The next song was a slow one, Prince doing "Purple 
Rain," and our usual routine would be for me to escort 
her back to Tom so that she could try to get him to 
dance with her, while I went off in search of somebody 
else to dance with. But Tom wasn't here this time, and 
Sarah made no move to leave the dance floor. Instead she 
moved up close to me and put her arms around my neck, 
and I put my arms around her waist, and we started to 
dance.

She leaned her head against my chest, very briefly, then 
drew back to look me in the eye. "You remember what I 
said on the phone, don't you." It was a statement, not a 
question. "I didn't know if you would remember or not, 
as drunk as you were."

I smiled at her, my first genuine smile of the evening. 
"Well, you know, the subject matter just kind of stuck 
in my brain - not something easy for me to forget." She 
put her head back down against my chest as I continued, 
"I wondered if I should call you this past week. I 
actually picked up the phone several times, but I 
couldn't think of what I could possibly say, so I 
decided to just wait for tonight. It's been a long 
week."

She didn't respond for a long time, just rested her head 
on me as we slowly circled and swayed to the music. Her 
soft, full breasts were warm against my stomach. I 
pulled her closer, just a little bit, just for the 
feeling of those tits against me. I kept my hands up 
high on her waist, although I was yearning to slide them 
down over her ass. Finally she looked up again and said 
that we needed to talk.

"OK," I agreed, "but not down here. I think we've 
already caught a few people's notice by dancing this 
slow song."

"Where, then? Your room? That'll really knock 'em dead."

I thought it over. "I'll go up first, while you hang 
with your friends over there for awhile - but not too 
long, please! Then you tell 'em you gotta pee, and go up 
to the powder room. When you get out of the powder room, 
just come on upstairs to the room."

She agreed, and we separated as the song ended. I walked 
over to the sound booth to tell Zero that he was doing a 
great job spinning tunes, and he told me that he was 
just hanging out, it was a party tape that he had put 
together earlier in the week and now he didn't have 
anything to do unless somebody came up with a special 
request. I chugged the last of my beer and tossed the 
cup into the trash barrel. I told Zero I was going to go 
up and mix myself a drink, then sauntered casually down 
the hallway to the stairs and up.

It seemed to take a long time for Sarah to get up to the 
room - maybe she really did have to stop in the powder 
room to pee first. At last I heard her tap at the door, 
and whisked it open for her to enter. Turning, she 
carefully shut the door behind her, and just as 
carefully turned the dead-bolt latch. Then she closed 
the skidlock, a sliding-bolt lock that could only be 
opened from the inside, that one roommate could use to 
keep the other from walking in during sexual activities.

We sat down on the couch, at opposite ends, twisting our 
bodies to face each other.

She spoke first. "I can't leave Tom, you know."

This was way too serious. "Yeah, I know, I can't leave 
him either. We're roommates for the rest of the year."

She giggled. "That's not what I meant. I mean I can't 
dump Tom for you. I want you to be my friend - to be 
more than a friend, always - geez, I don't know what I 
want. I guess I should have just kept my big mouth 
shut."

It was my turn for serious - I had to give her a chance 
to back out. "Do you want to go back downstairs? We can 
dance some more - I think Zero has a pretty good party 
tape put together, lots of good dance music."

"No, I don't want to go back downstairs - do you think I 
would have played secret agent to get up here if I 
wanted to stay downstairs? We need to talk."

I couldn't think of anything useful or intelligent to 
say, so I waited to let her have a go at it.

I guess she was waiting for me to start, because we sat 
there for almost a minute in silence, then both spoke at 
once. "I just want..." "I think we should..." We both 
stopped again.

More silence, then she spoke. "OK, we need to talk. I 
know, I already said that. But I don't think just 
ignoring things and going back downstairs is the 
answer."

I didn't think that was the answer either - and what did 
she mean by "things"?

She went on. "I've been going out with Tom for almost 
three months, going steady with him for two, and maybe 
getting his pin sometime soon. I love Tom, I'm not going 
to dump him, end of that subject."

OK, so what was the next subject?

She got to the next subject right away. "You're my 
friend, Brian. I can talk to you when I'm fighting with 
Tom, or even just about things that he isn't interested 
in. I know you want me, I can't help but see the way you 
look at me - am I right?"

"Uh, well - yeah, right."

"Don't strain yourself doing all the talking here. OK, 
you want me... and I want you, too. You turn me on. I 
think about you sometimes when I'm making love with Tom. 
I can't help wondering how things would be if I'd met 
you first, before I met Tom. But that isn't the way it 
happened."

I wasn't sure where she was going, but I wanted to cut 
to the chase. "And last weekend on the phone you told me 
that we'd have lots of fun together when Tom was away. 
Is this your idea of fun?" So I'm no good at the soap-
opera thing. So sue me.

Sarah apparently wasn't ready to get to that part of the 
talk yet, so she fell back on the Standard Female Back-
Up Plan #1 - she turned away from me and burst into 
tears.

And I moved in with the Standard Male Response to the 
Standard Female Back-Up Plan #1 - I slid down toward her 
end of the couch and put my arm over her shoulders. Come 
on, she was my friend, she was crying, she needed 
comforting - plus I just wanted to put my arm around 
her.

I'll never know if this was part of her plan, or just 
the way it happened on the spur of the moment - but 
there she was crying, then I put my arm around her, and 
the next instant she turned her face to mine and we were 
kissing.

I mean we were KISSING. Brief touch of lips, then open 
lips, then mouths smashed together and tongues going for 
throat.

We kept up that kissing for a good long time, while our 
hands were busy clutching and holding and caressing. One 
of my hands somehow managed to land on her collarbone, 
then to slide down from there over the curve of her 
breast, and when that brought no protest I slid that 
hand right on over to the top button of her blouse and 
popped it open. Still no protest, just more kissing. I 
got a couple more buttons open, enough to expose some 
cleavage, and broke the kiss to let my lips start 
nibbling down her neck.

"Ooh, yeah," she practically purred. "That's nice."

I nibbled her neck for awhile, letting my hand rest 
contentedly on her breast without undoing any more 
buttons, then moved down to kiss along her collarbone. 
I'm not sure who I was really teasing with the slow 
progression, her or myself, but I think we both enjoyed 
it. She kept on making encouraging noises, while I 
growled and nipped playfully at her skin with my teeth. 

Finally I worked my way down to kiss the upper curve of 
her breast, and decided that it was time for the bra to 
go. I moved my hand around and up the back of her blouse 
to work my one-handed magic on the bra-hooks - and there 
was nothing there.

Sarah giggled again - I liked that giggle. "It hooks in 
front, silly." She 

took her arms from around my neck and reached to her 
bosom with both hands, popped a little hook right in the 
middle where the cups came together - and then drew back 
the bra cups to let me feast my eyes on her lovely tits. 
Her skin was as white as milk, her tits round and firm 
and tipped with pink nipples surrounded by pink 
aureolae.

I've always been a boob-man, and the temptation was 
strong just to sit and gaze at those beauties - but I 
didn't think that was what she wanted when she opened 
her bra. I sighed in admiration of her body, then bowed 
my head to touch the tip of my tongue to a nipple. She 
wriggled and complained of tickling, but put both hands 
around the back of my head to make sure that I didn't 
stop. 

After that first touch I touched again, then licked, 
licked some more, and then switched sides. More tongue-
teasing, more licking, and then I took her nipple into 
my mouth to suckle. The whole tip of her breast firmed 
up as I sucked and licked, not just the nipple but the 
aureola, too, so that the whole thing looked like a pink 
cone rising out of the creamy white curve of her breast. 
I continued kissing, sucking, and licking her tits while 
she oohed and aahed with pleasure, switching sides from 
time to time, my hands touching and caressing whichever 
side my mouth was away from.

Sarah's hands were busy, too, touching me all over my 
chest, my ribs, my back. She unbuttoned my shirt to get 
her hands inside, on my skin. And then one hand moved 
downward, to the front of my pants, to firmly but gently 
take hold of the rock-solid hard-on that had been 
throbbing there since long before we ever started 
kissing. She gave it a gentle squeeze.

I raised my head from her bosom, to look her in the 
eyes. "Are you sure you don't want to stop now and go 
back downstairs?" I hoped I knew her answer - if I was 
wrong I was going to run out into the street and let a 
truck hit me.

Her eyes looking back at mine were hot with lust. She 
squeezed my pecker again, a little less gently than 
before. "If you stop now, I'm going to tear this off and 
keep it and just use it on myself."

Oh. OK. I interpreted that to mean that she didn't want 
to stop.

I went back to suckling her breasts, but both our hands 
were busy opening snaps and unzipping zippers, as we 
both acknowledged where this was going and got in a 
hurry to get there. She pushed my jeans and boxers down 
to my thighs and held my cock with both hands, then 
arched her hips up off the couch to let me pull down her 
skirt and panties. 

We let go of each other very briefly to toss the clothes 
aside, and then I was back on the couch with her, 
holding her in my arms, my cock pressed against her 
belly, her legs folded around me, her ankles crossed 
behind my knees.

I had an alarming thought. "Do I need to find a rubber?" 
I had a box in the closet, but I did not want to put one 
on if it wasn't needed.

She smiled and pulled my head down for a kiss on the 
lips. "No, I'm on the Pill. But I'm glad you asked."

She reached down between our bodies and grasped my cock, 
and I moved lower so that the head was even with the 
opening to her pussy. She held it by the shaft, rubbing 
the head up and down her gash, wetting it with her 
flowing juices. Then she poked it inside and let go, and 
I began slowly thrusting, withdrawing, thrusting again, 
until my prick was solidly lodged in her cunt to its 
full length.

She sighed, and I could feel her cunt muscles squeezing 
my shaft. I started a slight thrusting motion, not 
really withdrawing at all but just rocking back and 
forth, and she got into it and picked up the pace, 
rocking her hips faster and faster. 

Her pussy was so slippery that it was hard to stay in 
her, so I started driving in and out, in and out, 
letting her feel the full length of it, as she continued 
rocking her hips. Then, suddenly, before I expected it, 
I got that feeling that meant my orgasm was on its way - 
I could slow it down or hold it off a bit, but it was 
coming soon.

"Ungh," I grunted. "I hope you're close, 'cause I am."

"Oh yes, yes, darling," she cried. "Come in me, come in 
me, oh, do it now, I'm coming, come in me."

And I did. I came a gusher inside her. I had jerked off 
only the night before, wondering and fantasizing about 
this evening, but my balls were full again and it seemed 
like my come would never stop spurting and spurting into 
her wet cunt. 

I kept right on driving in and out, in and out, while 
she moaned and groaned about how nice it was, and then 
she squeezed her thighs around my hips, so I stopped 
moving and just lay there with her, on her. I could feel 
the come running down my balls, and it occurred to me 
that I'd better clean the couch before Tom got back 
home.

Then we rolled over so that I was sitting upright on the 
couch and she was sitting on my lap, straddling me, my 
softening cock still inside her. We kissed for a long 
time.

Later we climbed up into my bunk to make love a second 
time. Tom's lower bunk would have been more convenient, 
but neither of us even mentioned it - we just climbed up 
to mine. Our second time was slower, more relaxed. She 
reached down between our moving bodies to rub her mound 
while my cock was sliding in and out of her, and came 
twice before I finally spurted inside her again.

While we were getting dressed, preparing to sneak out so 
that I could drive her back to her dorm at Stephens, she 
looked me in the eye and said, "I'm still not leaving 
Tom."

I looked right back at her, deadpan. "Neither am I."

We cracked up laughing, started kissing again, but she 
shook her head when I tried to unfasten the buttons she 
had just fastened.

I felt a twinge of worry. "You're not going to tell me 
now that this was only a one-time thing, that we must 
never do it again, all that crap?"

She smiled. "I could say that, I guess, but it would be 
kind of stupid, wouldn't it?"

We kissed again and she slipped out the door, to wait 
outside by my car until I came down the back fire-escape 
to join her. Ha. More secret agent stuff. But worth it.

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. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 66