Fling

Sara Newlin was sitting by herself in the community room of the dorm, watching a National Geographic program when the guy walked in. She could not recall seeing him before but it was early in the year and she had not met that many people at the college yet. They exchanged a few words about what was on the TV and he decided to stay there and watch it for awhile.

Dark-haired, pale, with freckles across his low-bridged nose, the young man was of average height and a compact build. The two of them were not chatting, just sitting in silence, when his hand brushed tentatively against the inside of her arm. A special warmth rose in her body.

She could have said: Sorry, I have a boyfriend. That's what she had said for the past five years. But she did not say that. Not this time.

Instead she let his hand linger, then slide down to hold her hand. She pressed against his palm as she caught her breath. More waves of excitement tingled and she turned her face to his and the two strangers kissed, slowly and open-mouthed.

I should stop this, she thought. She loved Troy. They had been going together for six years. She knew they would marry someday.

But she didn't stop it.

This guy she didn't even know did something special to her, aroused a lust like coals stoked inside her gut. She put her hand on his shirt, feeling his chest, then let it slide down to his crotch. She felt his cock hard and erect under his pants. Hot chills ran up and down her spine.

She drew her hand away.

They still touched though just barely.

He put his hand on her thigh. Again she thought about telling him to stop because she had a boyfriend.

And again she did not as the heat of desire warmed and moistened her panties.

He just left his hand there. She felt the nipples of her tiny breasts harden and sting and she turned her face to him so he could kiss her.

As they pulled away from that kiss, she finally spoke. "Let's not go any farther," she said, "Until we have a date."

"OK," he replied. "That's reasonable enough."

"No more until then," she added.

With a smile, he nodded and took his hand off her thigh.

"I really have to get back to my room now," she told him. She rose from her seat.

"All right," he said, "but let's make arrangements." He pulled a pen and a little notepad out of a pocket. "And I promise not to molest you until we have our date."

"What's your name?" Sara asked.

"Ron. Felton."

"I'm Sara Newlin. One thing I think I should tell you," Sara began as they approached the door of the room.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I've just had oral sex," she said. "I'm a virgin to everything else."

He laughed.

Of course he doesn't believe me! Sara thought. Would a virgin make out with a guy whose name she doesn't even know?

"I'm telling the truth," she said adamantly.

"I believe you," he said with a nod and a smile that made her think he did not.

****

On their way to the restaurant, Sara told Ron that she had a boyfriend.

At a stoplight, Ron slid a hand up Sara's calf.

"How long have you been going together?" he asked.

"Six years."

Six years, he thought. That's awesome. She must love him. She must. But she's willing to cheat on him. With me. The idea excited and flattered him even as it made him think she must not be that good of a person. Why is she risking a six-year relationship? Ron wondered. Why is she willing to hurt a man she loves?

He glanced at her profile: she was pretty. She had a sweet looking, somewhat shy smile with dimples. Her green eyes were lively. Her head tended to turn down when she looked at him. It gave her an air of uncertainty, of fragility, that conflicted with her frank admission that she was two-timing and the strong sensuality he saw in her.

At the restaurant, she asked, "Is it OK to eat chicken with your hands? In a place like this?"

"Sure. It's perfectly proper," he assured her. Again he was struck by the irony of her concern for proper manners when she was going out on her boyfriend.

All through dinner, they made small talk about their classes and teachers they liked and disliked. She mentioned her boyfriend "Troy" a few times. That made Ron wonder some more. At the same time it excited him to be with another guy's girl. His skin felt peculiarly alive as it always did when he was certain a woman would be intimate with him.

Strolling back to her dorm (Ron had a roommate; Sara didn't), she again said, rather plaintively "I am a virgin. I've only had oral sex. I've never had vaginal sex and I don't want to. You've got to believe me, Ron."

"Sara, I do believe you because I've never had vaginal sex either."

She looked startled.

"It's true," Ron said firmly, smiling broadly. "Only oral."

Now it was Sara's turn to giggle. "A guy as cute as you a virgin?" she asked incredulously. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You really think I'm that cute?"

She nodded.

Ron thought that she must think I'm something else to jeopardize a six-year relationship for some fun with me.

"There are a couple of reasons," he said. "One is that I'm kind of old-fashioned and want to save something for my wife. Another is that I don't want to get a girl pregnant, especially when she might have an abortion. I don't believe in abortion."

"I do," Sara said, "I mean, I believe it should be legal. But I definitely don't want to have one which is why I'm still a virgin below the waist and going to stay that way until Troy and I get married."

There it was again. Ron was puzzled by the ease with which she mentioned her boyfriend to him. But he didn't think it was in his interest to question her too closely about it.

The room the pair walked into was not well decorated. A poster of Madonna was on a wall and one of Britney Spears was on another. A squat brown bookshelf with volumes arranged haphazardly, textbooks nestled with paperbacks stood in a corner. There was a serviceable wooden desk and chair. The desk was covered with notebooks and papers and had a plain holder full of pencils and pens.

There was also a bed, neatly made up with a pillow and a bright blue coverlet. The pair instantly gravitated to it. Kissing with all their clothes on, feeling the softness of her long, wavy hair, Ron felt a thrill that was new and strange. He had been with young women before, women he had cared about or at least pretended to care about (he thought some of their "sweet nothings" were fake as well). But this one didn't demand that; she didn't even seem to want it.

Sara turned her back to him and he pulled the zipper of her red knit shirt down, then helped her as she pulled it up over her head. She had not been wearing a bra and did not need one. Looking down at her breasts that were about the size of plums, a pained smile crossed her face. "They're terribly small," she said apologetically, her face in a grimace.

"I think they're cute," Ron told her honestly as he quickly unbuttoned his white shirt, then lay it on the back of the chair atop her shirt. He pulled Sara toward him and kissed a flesh plum with a hardened erect nipple, then took it in his mouth.

A gasp escaped from Sara and her arms grabbed around Ron. She moved against him as he suckled at her tiny breasts, the flesh of her body straining against his. Her face brushed hard on his cheeks, the tiny pinpricks of his beard nubs against the tender sensitive skin of her face.

"Ohhh, Ron," she moaned. She licked on his ear, tracing the outline of it with her tongue.

He pulled his pants and briefs down at the same time.

As she gazed at his seven-inch long dick, she exclaimed, "Ron, it's curved!" Delight shone from her eyes as they met his, then looked back at his member.

"Like a banana," he added, gently tugging on it.

Sara giggled. "Yeah, that's just what it looks like. Ron's banana."

"Do you like bananas?" he asked.

"I like this one." She put her fingers on the root, right where it met the balls, and brought her hand slowly up to its head. Waves of delight rolled up her naked flesh as she gently, slowly, felt this guy's prick. Her heart sped up pleasantly and her mouth watered.

"Uh, Ron, do you have a . . .?" her voice trailed off.

He nodded and reached for his pants, then pulled a condom out. "It's mint flavored," he said. "I couldn't find one that tastes like a banana."

She giggled appreciatively.

As he rolled the rubber down his dick, Sara felt her pussy moisten. She opened her mouth like a fish trying to swallow as much ocean as it could. Then she went down on his erect prick.

Ron closed his eyes and felt her mouth cover it. His hips ground gently as she went up and down sucking. Even the air around them seemed to tingle. She went up and down, up and down, up and down and all the time she sucked hard, like she was trying to suck his cum out of his balls, like she wanted to drain the fluid, wanted it, wanted him. The throbbing in his cock surged through his whole body but he held back. He wanted this to last.

Sara's mouth went to his balls. She took one in her mouth, then the other, then the two together. Her tongue licked delicately along the wrinkles. A laugh of sheer joy escaped from Ron's lips as he lay back, eyes half-closed in a world with no words, only the purest most perfect sensations.

Her hands moved around his hips and he lifted them up so she could squeeze on his ass cheeks. "Ohhhhhh," he moaned. Her mouth went back to his engorged cock. Up and down, up and down, up and down she sucked mightily kindling flames throughout his flesh. Finally he knew he was almost there. "Suck, yeah!" he told her, a hand feeling her soft chestnut-colored hair and he shuddered from head to toe with an orgasm so strong it seemed like it could just about fling his soul right out of his flesh.

"Ahhhh, thank you, Sara," he said as she tossed the rubber into the little trash can beside the desk. Then she lay down by his side, his arm around her. Their eyes met and she kissed him on the lips, a close-mouthed kiss.

His hand went leisurely to her pussy: it was dripping and furnace hot. He pulled his fingers up and she licked her own juice off them. It made a cute slurping noise and they both laughed.

****

Ron and Sara saw each other a few times after that. Sara did not usually cum during their encounters but she often did while alone and thinking about them. She had always been self-conscious and this guy desired her so much, was so horny for her, that remembering it made her have to masturbate.

Eventually the school year was about to end. Ron happened upon her while on the way to lunch. She was siting at a bench, wearing a baby pink blouse and a skirt with a dark background and floral pattern. She had no stockings on, only thongs.

"Are you coming back next year?" Ron asked. He didn't have to say he was hoping she would.

She shook her head. Again he thought of how attractive her rich brown hair was and how soft it felt when he ran his fingers through it. "No, I'm graduating."

"Oh."

Pressing her lips together, she looked up at the clear sky, then back at Ron. "Me and Troy are going to be married in a few months. After I graduate."

"That's good," Ron said, meaning it. "Good luck to both of you." There was an awkward pause. "I'll miss you," he said. He looked down at her legs: they were slim and shapely. She was such an attractive, sexy woman. It was too bad she was so self-conscious about being flat chested.

The next year he did miss her. He had no deep feelings for her and it occurred to him that if he heard she died, it would be no sadder than the death of a stranger. He just didn't know her that well. It wasn't too long before he stopped missing her. He moved on to other women, some whom he truly cared for. But he never forgot Sara Newlin. When the thought of her passed through his mind, he felt an arousal so acute it was almost pain. For years afterward, the memory of her exclaiming, "It's curved!" and then sucking so hard like she was trying to vacuum out his cum, taking his balls in her mouth and licking so hungrily, grabbing his ass cheeks and pulling, never failed to make his prick stiffen and pulsate.

One day Sara was in her home and at loose ends. It was a day off from work but her husband was at his job. She and Troy had no kids. It wasn't close to when she needed to start dinner. As she often did when she had nothing else to do, she took out a notebook and pen. She began just doodling, then started writing a short story. Pretty soon she saw that it was going in the direction of erotica as her stories often did. The main male character was a young man with a dick curved like a banana. Suddenly she put the paper and pen aside. She would write more later but right now she had to put her fingers on her pussy.