Christmas had come and gone. The warmth and merriness of the holidays had disappeared into the cold chill of winter. It was nearing ten at night. A Tuesday. I couldn't study anymore. I stood up from my desk, stretched out the soreness, and made my way over to my bed. I turned on the TV, and realized I was bored. Brett was off doing something -- I couldn't remember what. I hadn't heard from her in awhile. My roommate was, as usual, at his girl's place. I contemplated video games, but even that sounded dull. The longer winter goes on, the more I uninteresting everything seems to become. In the winter, you split your life between a dorm and a library and a classroom. The snow or ice eliminates that easy freedom of open air and space.
But still, college was not a bad place to be -- even at this time of year. The school has its share of attractive women. I enjoy the revealing wear of summer, of course, but winter's suggestive sweaters and tight jeans provoke my imagination even more. Ripping off layer after layer, in heated moments, has its own special eroticism. The thought of sex, unsurprisingly, cut its way through my boredom, and I found my hand reaching down past my boxer-briefs.
I was soft. I moved my hand down to the bottom of my balls and ran my hand over them, feeling their smooth, shaved texture. I took them in my hand, and squeezed gently, before I took hold of my shaft. I pumped upward, using the back of my thumb to hit the sensitive spot under the head, my other fingers loose around the shaft. I could feel the pleasure expanding from the sensation on my head down to my balls, and then upward through the rest of my body. I closed my eyes as I felt myself grow harder under my practiced hand. I took in the feelings of pleasure, the warmth and intimacy one has with one's own body.
My clothes were still on. I continued touching myself as I tried to remember if my roommate said he was staying the night with his girlfriend or not. Not really caring either way, I pulled off my t-shirt and slid down my gym shorts and boxers. I had just a small patch of pubic hair -- it would look to odd to have none while my chest and abs sported a respectable amount of hair -- but I kept my actual package clean. Brett knows how to use her mouth, and I'd hate to give her any disincentive.
I lay back on my bed and took in the site of my naked body. I had played sports in high school with average skill, but freshman year my habits had fallen to the wayside. At Thanksgiving, my parents and siblings had given me enough crap about my increased weight that I resolved to exercise again. Though it was more difficult without the discipline imposed by football or soccer, I managed to visit the gym more frequently and run several days a week. Perhaps more importantly, the stress of school now seemed more manageable and my mood had improved. I was proud of my body. My chest was hard and neatly defined, my abs -- though nothing magazine worthy -- were visible. Brett delighted in the way a V-like definition formed around my torso, pointing toward my dick. Girls had always told me I had a good and firm ass, though the appeal of male asses I never quite understood.
I was fully hard now, as my hand tried to cover the whole of my thick cock as I pumped up and down.
I hadn't jerked off in awhile. Brett usually took care of that need. But she'd been busy the past two days, and I needed relief. I closed my eyes again. I started rummaging through old memories to find one to relive. Brett swallowing my come for the first time. Being tied up and blindfolded by her, and her taking me deep into her mouth. The feminine, musky taste of her pussy. A deep moan as tongue met clit, as hard cock filled her velvety inside. The charged eroticism of our earliest, most passionate encounters. Christmas -- we snuck off to the bathroom in my parent's house for a quickie. I left the movie reel of erotic memories and concentrated on that, touching myself with more force and need when particular memories washed over me. How I had hoisted her up to the counter in the guest bathroom, fucking her roughly and holding my hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. Near the end, I started getting close, and would pull out all the way and push back into her wetness. I kept doing that, and I could tell she was almost there, so I sped up and she squirted all over my legs and floor. I felt my hips buck. It didn't take long after that for me to finish inside of her. We traded furtive glances and half smirks at the dinner table with my family some fifteen minutes later, knowing that my come had probably soaked her panties by the time my mom brought out the entrée.
And then that memory came back to me of finals week. My first experiences with girls in middle and high school always made me feel like some kind-of pervert. I know now it was simple poor luck and thinking too much with my dick on my part. A junior I dated my freshman year of high school, and who I lost my virginity to, more than showed me that girls love sex too. And she taught me enough to know that it wasn't necessarily that my first girlfriends were prudes, it's just that sex isn't all about getting off as fast as possible. I learned to put her pleasure first. Based on the other girls I had dated or slept with, Brett was always a bit confusing for me. We started having sex pretty quickly after we met, and sometimes I thought she had a stronger libido than I did. But she was disgusted by the most random things, the girl who can't accept that everyone shits and everyone fucks. She'd be offended if I made a sexual joke, even if it was only mildly obscene. She hated sexual slang words, talking dirty, sexting, or talking about sex outside the moment. I always assumed it had something to do with her upbringing. But it didn't really have much impact on our sex life. It made it fun, too, when I felt dominant and would have her to say things like, "I can't wait to feel your hot come all over my pussy."
It surprised me, then, when she began saying things like that of her own volition. I guess she had finally got over it. I didn't really think to much about it besides how sexy it was to hear such impurities and filth coming from her sweet mouth. I heard echo in my head, "I want you to cover my face with your come, I want to feel it run down face, into my mouth, all over my tits," after she had come and I had moved up to titty-fuck her and she extended her tongue to lick the tip of my dick. A month before she would never say something like that, let alone instruct me to put my cock between her tantalizingly large breasts.
And then we got drunk the last night of fall semester. I always looked forward to drinking with her and the usual drunk sex that followed. She always seemed to shed some of her inhibitions when she was tipsy or drunk. But nothing prepared me for that night.
My cock twitched at the memory. I'd always been interested in anal, but I never dared broach it with her. But that night I found myself licking her ass and fingering it. Not only that, but she confessed she wanted to experiment with another girl. Oddly, we hadn't talked about it since that night. We both went to our separate homes for Christmas. The week during the break we spent together was too hectic for much alone time (hence the quickie in the bathroom). And now during our first weeks back on campus, it simply hadn't come up.
I grabbed my shaft harder and brought my other hand down to massage my balls. I could feel myself getting closer as I imagined Brett naked, her delicious boobs pressed against her friend Caroline's. Their bodies locked in Sapphic embrace: a sight that never tires my imagination, something so sensual and intimate and erotic. I pictured them on top of each other, licking each other cunts. I heard Brett's helpless moans mix with the vulgar sound of a finger drawing its way in and out of a soaking wet pussy. I pictured in my mind what Caroline's breasts looked like, what her wet pussy would look like with my girlfriend's tongue pushing inside through her folds. I saw how their hair fell sensually over their shoulders and chests, with the slight sheen of lover's sweat.
My hand pumped my cock faster and faster.
Then a thought hit me. What if Brett hasn't mentioned it because she's hiding something? Not because she's the first girl to ever have bisexual thoughts, but because she's been experimenting with girls without telling me. What if right now her tongue was stuck up one of her girlfriend's pussy, licking up Caroline or someone's juices?
The thought didn't bother me. I closed my eyes and pictured right at this very moment my girlfriend was fucking one of her best friends, tasting each other, rubbing their cunts together, coming on each other's face.
My dick swelled at the thought. I started bucking my hips against my hand as I neared orgasm. I squeezed my balls and rubbed the underside of my head one last time before my balls tightened up and I came on my stomach.
*
The weather had cleared up. The grayness that had enveloped the sky for the past few days dissipated into a bright blue and brilliant sun. I woke early, dressed, and walked through the soiled snow and ice to the coffee shop I frequented. I do my best work in the mornings, with a cup of warm coffee and the fresh feel of a new day.
I sat down at my usual table near the back. Brett hadn't texted me last night or this morning yet, so I went ahead and sent her a message saying good morning. I put my phone away and picked up my work for class.
About 30 minutes after I arrived, the door to the café opened and Caroline walked in. The thought that last night I had masturbated to the image of her and my girlfriend having sex brought a smile to my lips as I waved and said hello to her. Of all Brett's friends, she was clearly the most gorgeous. Her and Brett presented a nice contrast. Where Brett resembles what I suppose is the prototypical American female -- blond hair, tanned skin, blue eyes, large firm breasts, and a tight ass -- Caroline is lithe and pale, with an artsy bent to her personality. She has dark brown hair that stumbles past her shoulders in a wavy, almost messy, fashion. Her eyes are dark, somewhat gray. Her breasts, as far as I've ever been able to tell, are small. A pleasing handful, but not much more. Her slender frame and dark looks give her a very elegant appearance. I found her extremely alluring.
She walked over to my table, drink in hand.
"Mind if I sit, Jake?"
"Please do. How are you?"
"I'm well, happy to see some sun. Needed some coffee before I went to classes."
"Same here." I looked at my phone to see if Brett had texted me back. "You weren't with Brett last night were you? She probably told me a dozen times what her plans were, but I completely forgot. Haven't heard from her yet today."
"Oh yeah, she was over at my place till late, then went home around midnight, I think. I'm sure she's still asleep, you know her," she said.
"I figured. You all do anything fun?"
She laughed. She had a warm laugh. "Nothing that you would call fun. Painted our nails, see? And watched some episodes of Sex and the City. And talked. As usual."
"Sounds like a great Tuesday night," I said.
"Oh yeah, well, what did you do without our lovely company?"
