(Based on assorted true stories; names changed to protect the not-so-innocent.)
It was late spring, and I was visiting the dorm room you shared. You and your roommate were each at your computers, ostensibly working, but I could occasionally hear the sounds of Snood and AIM coming from either side. I was stretched out in your bed so as not to disturb you, a book open but ignored in front of me. My mind was wandering to the first time you came to stay with me.
We'd only had a couple of days together, but most of it had been spent in my bed. I knew you were less experienced, so I didn't want to push your limits beyond the occasional winking innuendo. We were just cuddling until I felt your cock against my leg, already hard--apparently it wasn't my advances that were making you uncomfortable.
You proved me right by reaching for your fly. "I'm assuming you don't mind . . .?"
"Not at all."
Your cock had already pushed through the slit in your boxers, so when you pulled down the zipper of your pants it was completely exposed. It was thicker than your modesty had made it out to be, with velvety smooth skin just begging to be tasted . . .
I blinked out of my reverie at the creak of your chair. You flopped down on the bed beside me and I scooted over a little, keeping you close enough to snuggle.
"Whatcha doing?" I inquired.
"Waiting for Joe to leave," you replied in a hushed tone.
