The story of Al becoming Alistaire was such a big hit, I decided to go ahead and write a sequel series with all the ideas I had teased but never paid off in the original.
I hope you enjoy the wrap-up. Whether there is more Alistaire to come or not remains an open question. Follow me to keep appraised!
I'd like to make a special shout out to the readers and commenters who responded so wonderfully to Alistaire's first cycle. His further adventures are dedicated to you.
—————
THE ONE WHERE THEY GRADUATE
—————
Bridget lay flat on her stomach on her dorm room floor, her face buried in a pillow to muffle her own screams of delight. I lay atop her, her sweet round ass pressing against my stomach as I drove myself into her pussy with the desperation of a guy who was on the verge of climax and knew this would be the last time he ever came inside his partner.
Somehow, the two of us had decided upon saying our sexual farewells in Bridget's dorm room. We had never so much as made out in there before, and it seemed appropriate to try someplace new for our last time. Mostly, it had worked out great, but we had, in the space of a few thrusts on our first round of actual intercourse, discovered that dormitory beds appeared to be actively engineered to squeak like a rusty vault door if used for sex, and the rest of our various rounds of coupling had been on the floor.
But now, cocks had been sucked, pussies had been eaten, and the brains had been fucked out of both of us in several positions. We were exhausted, which says a lot, since Bridget and I are both in excellent aerobic condition, and we were ravenously looking forward to dinner too. We could not miss either our final meal as students, nor the headmaster's Senior Cigar Sendoff afterward. And so, I slammed into Bridget for all I was worth, desperately trying to hold back my orgasm until I felt her give way beneath me so that we could climax that last time in unison.
To be honest, I was wishing that she would just go ahead and come already.
The feeling of my cock stroking into her was amazing, and I knew it was stroking her in very most favorite interior spot. I knew it well, but even if I had not, the way she writhed beneath me was ample evidence.
And I could not stop myself. I hissed, "I'm coming, dammit!" With a groan, I let myself go and felt the rush of semen blast forth from me. I was surprised after our marathon that I had that much volume to give. Beneath me, Bridget's whole body spasmed. Her pussy grabbed my cock in wild, ragged spasms, and her hands against the floor pushed up so violently that she nearly managed a push-up with me on top of her. Her face made good use of the muffling pillow as she yelled wild, incoherent words into it, still loud, but hopefully not enough to be heard beyond her walls.
I tried to keep going, not wanting it to end. I managed a few, feeble, final thrusts, but that was all I could muster. I felt my body sag, and I pulled us over onto our sides, so I would not drop my whole weight on Bridget. We spooned there, my cock still inside her, but it was softening fast, and soon I would never be inside her again.
Bridget sagged as well. She tossed the pillow aside and muttered, "Jesus-Fuck, Alistaire! I didn't think you were ever going to come. It was killing me, waiting for you!"
"Wait," I said, starting to laugh. "
You
were waiting for
me
? I was waiting for..." We both giggled uncontrollably for a moment, and then I was weeping uncontrollably.
My exhausted body, so recently wrung out by a marathon of sexual gymnastics, now shuddered in sobs. Tears dripped down and over Bridget's naked shoulder where I buried my face. My dick gave up the ghost and shriveled its way completely out of Bridget.
I felt Bridget crying too. "How," she sobbed, "are we crying after such amazing sex?"
"Because I'm not crying about sex," I sniffled. I hugged her, trying to keep my hands away from any erogenous zones, which was hard with Bridget. I gave up, and slid away from her, just enough to not touch her. She rolled over and we stared at each other.
"I'm crying about... endings... about changes," I said. "Look, you and I will always be friends, right? That's obvious," I said, and she nodded, eyes bright in reply. "We will text. We will email. We will even talk on the phone," I went on. "And we will probably meet up at Alumni Day reunions. But that will just be 'catching up', or 'checking in'." I took a deep breath. "I kills me to face it, but I have to. The chances are very good that the two of us will not ever even be physically in the same state for more than a day or so for the rest of
our lives
, Bridget! I will never have you in my life the same way again... the way that was most important to me... The way that I so desperately needed."
I looked at her brow furrow a little. "I'm talking about what you have meant to me and my life for the last
four years
, not the last eight weeks. I owe all or at least part of everything that I am to my friendship with you. I owe the shape I'm in, and the way I dress, and how well I handle friendships to you, Beth, and Carla. And yes, I also owe the insane sexapalooza my life has become... to you."
Bridget snorted, her own mood lightening at that. "You had a good head of steam going on
that
before you and I first..."
"Not what I mean," I laughed. "I mean that your friendship, and the friendships you helped me build with other people, guys and girls alike, made this possible for me... Made all my life possible for me." I stopped and looked her in the eye. "And tomorrow, I will get a piece of parchment that will mark the official amputation of my best friend."
Bridget looked at me, fresh tears on her face. "I get that same parchment tomorrow too, you know," she said.
"I know," I cut in, whining now. "But you made..."
"Shut up, Al," Bridget snorted. "You changed me too. You have, throughout our four years here, always been just what I needed. When I was a freshman, and I was the Next Big Thing on the Cross-Country team, I was a cocky little bitch who got no respect from the older girls. I didn't even know if I wanted to stick with running. But running with you, talking to you about running... I don't know, being your 'mentor' kept my own mind straight and made my motivations stronger."
"And you taught me that guys are humans, honestly," Bridget went on. "From you, and the open, honest, dependable, fun way you were always there for me, I truly understand how much I can expect to have good male friends, with or without sex."
We looked at each other for a moment.
She snickered. "And I'm just going to say it: once we firmly established the value of a friendship that wasn't going to ever be about sex... You showed me just how mind-blowing sex can feel."
"Yeah," I dead-panned. "I guess, now that you mention it, I will probably miss the sex too..."
She threw her pillow/gag at me. "Come on, asshole," she said, sitting up. "We have to get dressed before we start missing the sex too much and miss dinner instead."
We cleaned ourselves up as best we could and got dressed. But we couldn't quite bring ourselves to part quite yet. We sat apart in the room, in approved inter-dorm visitation manner, with at least three of our feet on the floor at all times, and indulged ourselves in a final bull session.
I suddenly found myself relaxed. The grief, well and truly expressed, was fading to the dull background ache it would forever remain. Bridget was my last 'goodbye'. There had been no way I would have allowed it any other way.
Poppy, the last girl I had hooked up with, was also my first goodbye. We said our wordless farewell (which actually involved a lot of words shouted at the top of our lungs) at her home near the school. Again, beds are just the absolute best when it comes to sex. I highly recommend that you pick one up.
Jenn and I ended up where we began. I met up with her, as we had planned, late one evening. She surprised me by actually wearing a skirt, instead of her ubiquitous corduroys. She hauled me, laughing down the basement corridor to the once again locked entrance to the Science Annex. There, she showed me that she had worn the skirt for a reason, and I fucked her silly against the wall in the alcove, almost fully clothed but right there in a public, if out of the way, hallway. It was such a scary rush, even though we did not even get close to being caught that time.
Carla and I, of course, had no last hurrah. But we did have a long, long lunch, sitting by ourselves in the dining hall. Yeah, I cried for that one, too. The only other time I got teary was two days before graduation, with Adam of all people. I felt bad once or twice, in those waning days that neither Adam nor Trey had gotten swept up like Ben had in the sexual insanity of my final months at school. I guess, as with all good D&D campaigns, they needed to do a better job of developing their characters if they wanted the experience...
Much as Ben and I both lobbied for it to be otherwise, we were denied. Our final hurrahs with Beth were at the same time.
Sigh.
Petra and I did manage once or twice to step out on Bridget, as it were. The sex between just the two of us was awesome each time. But it lacked the connection I'd had with my other fellow students. She and I just did not have the social history I had with the others. But whatever she decided about her bisexuality, and I got the impression from Bridget that that was very much still an open question for both of them, I was left with
no
doubt about Petra's affection for dick...
Bridget and I kept on talking, but we were thinking that I really need to go. Just because we were cleaned up, we were not necessarily showered up, and that was very important before we went and partied with the rest of the class and the faculty. I was about to leave, when Bridget's door banged open, and Jenn surged into the room.
Bridget and I looked at each other in good-humored horror. We had just engaged in a multi-hour tour de sex in her room, and neither of us had remembered to lock the door!
"Bridget!" Jenn began, as she burst through the door. "I'm looking for... Oh, you're here Alistaire." She blushed a little. Then her eyes widened. "Oh God! I'm sorry! Were you guys about to, uh, say goodbye?"
While Jenn was pretty much in the loop on everyone I was horsing around with, she had heretofore held herself a little more aloof than most of the rest of my special friends, even Poppy. I realized suddenly that I had not once been in the same room with Bridget and Jenn that spring.
"No," Bridget said, stretching idly. "Alistaire just finished making me walk funny for a day or so."
Jenn snorted. "Heard that." She paused awkwardly. "Hey, Bridget... sorry." She searched for words, which was fucking rare for Jenn. "This is pretty awkward... you know, being part of a whatchacallit, a harem I guess, isn't it?"
Bridget laughed. I swiftly and sternly cut in, "
I
do not have a harem. I have a board of governor's! Bridget and Beth have the harems."
"Ignore him, it's usually safest," Bridget said, climbing off her bed. "I should have made sure we talked more, Jenn, before we got here, to the end of all things. Welcome to the Sisterhood of Alistaire's Traveling Penis," Jenn laughed in surprise. "The secret handshake is fist bump, handshake, high five," Bridget added dryly.
Jenn wordlessly executed the set of gestures (that Bridget had just invented... I think) flawlessly. "Wait," she said. "
You
have a harem, Bridget?"
"Co-ed," I observed, not liking how easily I still got talked about like a lab animal whenever multiple women who knew me talked together. "Me, and Petra."
Jenn, shrugged. She already knew that Petra and I had been together, and she knew that Petra and Bridget had dated, though I don't think I had ever let on about the threesomes. I hadn't wanted to look like I was fishing for one with Jenn and Poppy. I retrospect, I should have fished. "Ok, I knew that, but can you have a co-ed harem? Anyway, I had not heard that Beth liked girls," Jenn said in surprise.
"Ha!" I snorted. "She most certainly does not. I begged."
"I was talking about Beth's BDH," Bridget said. A week ago, none of us would have told tales like this, but any remaining discretion was fading with the hours left in our school lives.
"BDH?"
"She calls Ben and me her Big Dick Harem," I laughed. I found it interesting that I was quite amused and comfortable at being described as being part of someone else's harem, but I did not like the idea that I had one myself.
"Wait," Jenn said, suddenly talking to me, her eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me Ben is hung like you!"
