This story is not intended for anyone under the age of 18. All characters are fictitious and are the property of and copyrighted by the author.
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There was a flash of light and then a crash of thunder. I tried not to whimper but I must have made a noise because Alan, my study partner, looked up from the book he was reading.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I muttered, a little embarrassed. I had a tiny fear of thunderstorms. Okay, it was a big fear. It wasn’t enough to send me screaming into the mental ward of the local hospital, but I didn’t like them, that was certain.
He looked as though he didn’t believe me, but went back to his book. We were in the tower room of the dorm we were both residents in. It was a converted mansion and housed those students who didn’t want to be disturbed with the stereotypical college partying. I had been there since my freshman year, Alan had only moved in this year.
The tower room was set aside specifically for isolated studying. You had to sign up and were only allowed two hours each session. Since there were only thirty residents in the dorm, there wasn’t a lot of jockeying for time. Another flash, another rumble and I twitched, trying not to show my fear. Alan shut his book with a sigh.
“It’s obvious something’s bothering you,” he said, turning in his seat to look at me.
“I hate storms,” I muttered again, “I have since I was a child. Whenever one would come around, my family could find me under the bed or in the closet, clutching a stuffed animal.”
Alan looked at me thoughtfully and I lifted my eyes to look at him. He had intense green eyes and dark brown hair that he kept short, completely opposite of the long hair of his fellow male students. We had been friends since we were paired together in an acting exercise our freshman year. His skin was still tanned from the summer break. I looked down at his hands. The fingers were long and strong, the palms just the right size to cup a woman’s breast…
I looked away as my face began to flush. Alan reached out and patted my hand sympathetically.
He was oblivious to the fact that I was attracted to him, had been since that first day. He was the stuff wet dreams were made of. If he only knew how I masturbated to fantasies involving us locked in a sweaty embrace, fucking our brains out. I’d already gone through a vibrator per year since meeting him. Three vibrators, all because of one guy. I’m pretty sure that’s gotta be a record, but I wasn’t planning on calling Guinness.
Another bolt of lightning, a huge crash of thunder. I looked out the window as the rain came pelting down. The tower room allowed a three hundred-sixty degree view of the campus. I shuddered as I realized the storm was practically overhead.
“Have you ever tried to conquer the fear?” Alan’s voice penetrated my thoughts and I looked at him.
I could listen to him speak for hours. I felt a familiar tingle between my legs. I have a thing for voices. I realized it when I heard James-Earl Jones say “This is CNN” on the television. I was at a friend’s house and after hearing it, I realized my panties were wet. I excused myself to the bathroom, thinking that either my period had started or I’d wet myself. I was surprised to find that it wasn’t either, but the fact that I was turned on by his voice. I got so horny I sat on the toilet and fingered myself to a quick orgasm.
“I tried hypnotherapy,” I replied, “But that proved useless. I was in regular therapy for a month for it when I was younger, but the doctor said that it was a normal fear and that I’d outgrow it eventually.”
Alan nodded and again looked thoughtful. I tried not to fidget in my seat, as the tingle between my legs became a soft throbbing. My vibrator was going to get a workout tonight.
I tried to return to my studies, ignoring the wind and rain outside. I looked down at my book and noticed that my nipples were very hard and very obvious against my T-shirt. I groaned inwardly. My breasts are fairly large, topping a D cup. Personally I’ve always found them too big, but they go with my body shape, so I can’t complain too much. I’ve never been skinny, but neither have I been fat. My grandfather says I have a body like Marilyn Monroe.
“Cassie?” Alan’s voice made me look at him.
“Yes?”
“I have a suggestion,” he looked a bit uncomfortable.
“Okay,” my mind raced as to what he could possibly suggest as throbbing from my pussy increased to a steady thrumming.
“I took a psych class last year,” he stood up and began to pace. God his body was tight and hot. He wore tight blue jeans that I wondered if he wore underwear or went au natural. The polo shirt he wore seemed to be a size too small for his broad chest and shoulders. He turned to look at me and I heard him say, “I was remembering something the professor had said about replacing a negative with a positive.”
“Huh?” I blinked and looked up at him in confusion.
“Something in your past has made you fear storms,” he explained slowly, “What you could do is do something that is so wonderful that it when the next storm comes along, you’ll remember the good experience rather than the fear of storms.”
Oh I could think of a few things that could make me forget this storm, my brain replied. My vagina convulsed in agreement. I could feel the moisture building up between my legs. I could swear I smelled my heat and desire. I stood up and walked to the window seat along the west window. I sat down, my denim miniskirt riding up high on my thighs. Alan came over and sat next to me. I looked at him and he leaned over, his lips touching mine.
My body tensed with desire as his tongue traced my lips. I opened my mouth and his tongue dove in, tangling with mine. I reached up and dove my fingers into his hair as his cupped my breasts, his thumbs flicking over my hard nipples. We both moaned and pulled apart. We sat for a moment, just looking at each other, and then we pulled off our shirts. I pulled off my sports bra at the same time.
“God you’re hot,” he muttered as his hands reached for my breasts. His fingers rolled my nipples in unison and I moaned, writhing under his touch.
He leaned over and kissed me again and I tried to devour him with my mouth. My hands roamed his chest and back. He didn’t have a lot of chest hair, just a light trace on the chest leading down to the waistband of his jeans. I began to fumble with the buttons as his head dipped down to lick then suck on my left breast. I moaned again and my fingers went lax. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t move. All I could do was feel. His mouth moved to my other breast while his fingers played with where it had just been. I twitched and shuddered as I had a small orgasm.
Alan took hold of my shoulders and gently lowered me against the cushioned seat. As I tried to regain my senses, I felt his hands run along my waist and undo my skirt. I managed to lift my hips as he slid the skirt off. His face dipped to the juncture of my thighs and I felt him inhale and my pussy twitched. I wasn’t inexperienced when it came to sex, nor was I a complete slut, but I’d never had a guy just sit and sniff me. I looked at him and saw a look of bliss on his face. His eyes were closed as he ran his hawk-like nose along the edge of my bikini panties.
He opened his eyes and I parted my thighs. He smiled and looked up at me before looking back down. His mouth opened and cupped my mons directly over my clit. I jumped as his tongue snaked out and began to lick me through the material. My hands reached up and began to pinch and tweak my nipples as my hips twitched under his mouth. It was more than any fantasy I’d ever had.
His hands reached up and began to peel away the panties as he lifted his mouth. I moaned in frustration as he pulled the underwear down and off my legs. He sat up and watched as I wiggled, trying to relieve the tension. I couldn’t help myself. I reached between my legs and spread the lips of my pussy, showing him everything. His eyes were hooded as he watched me bring one hand back up to my mouth. I heard him groan as I slowly slid my finger into my mouth then out again, getting it good an wet. I brought that finger to my clit and flicked it back and forth.
My eyes locked to his as I pressed my clit over and over again, my other hand working one then two fingers into my hot wet hole. I was so turned on by him and the indecency of masturbating in front of him. I cried out as my climax came on quickly. I continued my ministrations as I came down. I looked at Alan and saw that he was rubbing himself slowly through the denim of his jeans. I removed my hands and sat up, offering my cream soaked fingers to him. He held my hand as his tongue licked off every little bit.
“Your turn,” I said, my hands going to the button fly of his jeans. I could feel his heat against my fingers as I undid each button, slowly. As I spread open the material, I saw he wore no underwear and that made my pussy twitch again.
He stood and helped me tug the jeans down. His cock bobbed freely near my face and I reached up, cupping him gently. He wasn’t huge but he certainly wasn’t small. I figured him to be about seven inches. The mushroom tip was flushed nearly purple while the hot velvet shaft was a shade or two lighter. A pearly drop of pre-cum appeared on the tip. I ran my other hand up and down his thigh and found a sticky spot. I grinned and leaned over, licking the pre-cum from his penis then leaning over to lick what had already leaked out from his thigh. He moaned as I trailed my tongue and mouth up his thigh to his balls. I proceeded to lick and suck them all over.
His hands threaded into my hair as I avoided his cock. Finally I began to tongue the base and I felt him shudder. I licked up and down his cock, avoiding the head until I heard him moan my name.
I smiled then sucked him into my mouth. I’ve never figured out how to deep throat a guy, but I could get over half of him into my mouth. I began to suck and bob my head, swirling my tongue long the shaft as I could, while one hand massaged his balls and the other stroked the base of his cock.
“Oh God, yes,” Alan muttered over and over again.
His fingers gripped my head and I felt his balls tighten up. He was going to cum and I was determined to get him there. I increased my strokes on his cock with my hand as I moved my mouth to just the head. I ran my tongue all over and around it, paying close attention to the underside of the glans.
“I… I… Oh God! CASSIE!” my pussy twitched as he shouted my name. I felt the head of his cock swell and I ran my hand quickly over the pulsing shaft. “I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his fingers convulsing on my head. The first salty sweet deposit of his semen landed on my tongue and I swallowed with a moan. His cock twitched at the vibrations in my mouth as more semen came out. I continued to swallow, moan and hum as he groaned loudly.
I gently milked him, licking and sucking the head and shaft as the last few drops seeped out. I kept at it until his cock relaxed to a half hard state. Alan flopped onto the seat and lay back. I crawled up and lay myself over him. He looked at me, his hand brushing the hair back from my face.
“Wow,” he said softly before pulling my head down for a kiss. His tongue swept through my mouth, as though he wanted to taste himself. I moaned into his mouth and he answered with a moan of his own.
“Your turn,” Alan said with a grin as he pulled away.
