Chad Takes A Gymnast

This story is kind of a departure for me; I hope it works. Chad's kind of a jerk, but the world's full of those.

This is a request story from another member.

* * *

Let's see... that was the year Julia was living in the Quan, so junior year. They'd roomed her with this chick named Marie, a nice girl Julia had just met after changing her major. At that time they had a whole floor in Quannack where all the early childhood education majors at Monroe College lived, and this new roommate was already in that program. I'd only met her twice before she walked in on us fucking.

Her name was Marie.

Marie seemed nice enough; my first meeting with her was in the lobby of the education building one day when I was meeting Jules for lunch. She'd struck me as earnest and sincere, though in fairness so did a lot of these "think of the children" types Jules had saddled herself with. I still couldn't see Julia Cooney as a kindergarten teacher, but then I'd once watched her suck my buddy Joel's dick while I banged her in the ass.

Pretty hard to see anyone teaching five-year-olds after that.

Anyway, I'd been polite and kind to Marie. She struck me as the kind of genial anorexic who grows up doing dance classes and never quite grows out of that mindset.

The main thing I noticed at first was her height, or rather lack thereof: kid couldn't have been much taller than five-two, weighing maybe 100 pounds, and that was after a big dinner. She was lively, with a quick laugh and that huge-ass smile you often see on future teachers despite a small and somewhat pouty mouth; clear skin, short, straight blonde hair pulled back from a really high forehead. Small hazel eyes, set wide apart, with a strong, straight nose. She hadn't been rooming with Julia at that point, so there'd been no reason for the two of us to meet and talk; I remembered her for her height, mostly.

She must not have been wearing anything very tight, or I'd have remembered that too. Because the second time I met her, while she was moving in with Jules, it was nothing but short shorts and a tight tanktop, and I was in heaven. The girl had a firm, compact body on her! Everything was fluidly muscled, from her strong neck all the way down. Decent tits, probably low C; the chick had a blessedly nice ass, too. I was most taken by her abs, though, exposed by her rising tanktop whenever she had to move a box: I caught the bottom of a pronounced six-pack there, and a set of obliques that looked more impressive than mine. She had to spend hours in the gym.

Of course, by then I knew her name: Marie Kohler. When Jules introduced us, the bright smile and somewhat limp handshake gave me something else to remember. The sensation of Jules describing me as her "boyfriend" was still new then. "Nice to meet you, Marie," I said warmly, all sweaty from hauling Jules' shit up in the elevator. "What kind of name is Kohler?"

"I think it used to be German." The voice that replied was high-pitched and fast. Marie gave the impression of a chick who could talk all day. "They changed it a long time ago."

"Chad," Jules said, coming in from the bathroom, "Marie's from California, too."

"No shit!" I raised my eyebrows. "I grew up in Arcadia." I read incomprehension in Marie's small hazel eyes. "Right next to Pasadena. LA County, up in the valley."

"Oh." She shook her head. "I'm from right near Santa Barbara." Of course, I immediately thought of her tight body on a beach somewhere, maybe playing volleyball, and I felt myself starting to get hard. Julia was looking at me closely.

"Quit resting, fatass," she said, swatting my butt. "Get back to work, or no nookie for you later!" She laughed, and I smiled at them and left for more boxes. Marie just giggled uncertainly.

The third time I met her, maybe a week later, she was standing in Julia's doorway watching as Jules rode my dick. My arms were behind my head; the sheets were on the floor, so we were totally exposed as Jules rose and fell, those perfect titties bobbing, her bright red nipples sticking way out. Julia was not a shy girl; always easily aroused and rather vocal, she was by far the best chick I'd ever fucked. And that red hair! Nothing excited me more than seeing that bright orange landing strip with my seven inches rooted right beneath it.

I'd looked lazily over to see Marie, totally aghast, with her hand over her mouth. She was supposed to be in class. "Oh my God!" she squeaked.

If I could have shrugged, I would have. I was getting laid, and what did I care if Jules' roomie saw me? Besides, we were sideways to the door, with Julia's hard legs hiding most of the action; no way could Marie even see my dick. So, no harm no foul. Jules looked calmly over at Marie, her face now flushing a bright red. "What's up, Rie?" she asked, totally casual, as though she was wondering how warm it was outside. She'd been fucking me for at least six minutes nonstop, but wasn't out of breath; Jules was in excellent shape.

"I'm so sorry!" She did a quick spin and ducked back into the hall. "I forgot a book!"

"No problem," Jules said, not stopping. She had her hands on my ribcage, propping herself up now while her hips churned. "Don't mind us." And so, keeping her eyes pointed well away from us, Marie scuttled over to her bookshelf. I watched with some interest; she was wearing shorts again today, and even her legs were bright red with embarrassment. She fumbled with her books, nervously dropping a couple while Jules tightened her pussy around my cock.

"I'm sorry!" she called again, fleeing as though she'd just witnessed a crime. She forgot to shut the door on her way out, the silly little tart. Oh well. Jules kept swiveling; she was getting close.

"Great ass on her," I told her, jamming in more of my dick. "Have you seen her body yet?"

"No," Jules said, her voice quivering a little as I bottomed out. "She always keeps a towel on. Body image issues," she added knowingly. She'd just stopped being a psych major, and sometimes she thought she was a clinician.

"Ah." Out in the hall, a gorgeous brunette sophomore was looking in at us through the open door, giggling with wide violet eyes. I smiled at her, and she gave a shy wave as she passed by. No shortage of hot pussy on this floor, that was for sure. I'd have to get Jules to invite some of these little bitches for one of our parties. "I'm about to cum, Jules," I said, offhandedly. I'm always a gentleman.

"Too soon, you asshole." She was frigging herself now, but oh well; she should have been doing that all along if she was serious about getting off. Her problem.

"Don't worry. I'll eat you out tonight," I told her, holding her lean hips down while I blasted into her pussy. "Fuck yeah!" I exulted; there's nothing in the world like shooting your load into a hot girl. Nothing in the world. And it was at least 30% better with a redhead.

* * *

It took awhile after that for Marie to be comfortable around Jules and I, but it was no big deal to us and I think she eventually figured out she didn't need to be ashamed. I tried hard not to look at that fine little body, at least not so she'd catch me; Jules caught me once or twice, but she didn't care as long as I kept fucking her regularly.

I wouldn't say she and I had an open relationship, exactly, but I knew she'd fucked around last summer with one of her old coaches from high school while I was over for the weekend. Didn't bother me much, as long as she came back disease-free and with that snatch still nice and tight. I could understand; summer was different. I couldn't expect her to be a nun that whole time. Then there was Joel, but that was different. He was my fraternity brother, so he didn't really count.

For my part, well... I mean, I've always prided myself on not cheating on my girlfriends. And I really haven't, though I know I am sort of lying to myself there. I've always figured it's not really cheating if it's not really sex, and it's not really sex unless I'm cumming bareback into a chick. I'm aware that's a pretty flexible definition, and I'll admit I've never really discussed it with Julia, but whatever. You've got to draw the line somewhere, and that's where I draw mine. I was pretty sure she didn't know I knew about that thing with the coach, either. I'm into equality in relationships, and if we were both lying to each other, well, that was equal.

Not everything was peaches and cream, though. Julia was having issues with Marie. "She's been really bitchy lately," she told me one day. "Like she's constantly on the rag."

"Huh." I shrugged. "Maybe she's just stressed."

"Depressed, more like. It's really starting to piss me off." She shook her head.

One night we were all sitting around in their dorm room in the Quan. Marie had just gotten her loft installed, and was sitting way up high. She swung her legs now, looking pensive. "Something wrong, Rie?" I asked. I was smoking a bowl, and I'd been unsuccessfully trying to get either of the girls to take a hit; Jules was in ROTC, and was careful about that kind of thing, but I couldn't figure out why Marie wasn't partaking.

"Oh, it's my boyfriend," she said with a tired smile. She was trying not to sound pitiful, and I appreciated the effort. I had a nice buzz going, after all.

"She got an email from Paul today," Jules said helpfully. She lay there with her legs across mine, reading

Cosmo

. "He's not coming to visit next weekend."

"What an asshole," I said loyally. Marie was Julia's friend, which made her one of my tribe.

"He's not an asshole," she said quickly. "He's just got an important exam coming up." Paul was in some sort of high-caliber program out at Stanford, though I guess any program at Stanford is pretty high-caliber.

"Still." I glanced over at Jules, gauging her mood. "You're a hot little piece, Marie. He might not be an asshole, like, as a person, but he's an asshole for passing up a weekend with you."

"Oh." She didn't seem pleased at my compliment; snooty bitch.

"True," Jules said absently, turning a page. "He should be taking better care of you, Rie."

"Hey," I said excitedly; a new idea had occurred to me. "So, if he's not coming this weekend, you can come to our party!" My fraternity was having one of its periodic Roman orgy-themed blowouts; in fact, the only reason I was spending so much time over in the Quan was because I didn't want to have to help clean the sticky house. "You should come over and meet some of my friends." I thought of Joel; he'd rip her in two given half a chance. Might be fun to watch.

"She doesn't need to meet your friends," Jules shuddered, with a side glance at Marie. "She's busy this weekend, anyway."

"Paul was coming out to see my meet," she said slowly. She gathered her legs now and put her chin between her knees.

"Meet?" This was new. I took another hit.

"I'm on the gymnastics team."

"No shit." It came out low, almost hushed. I thought reverently about that body of hers. "Huh. You're a gymnast."

"The meet's on Saturday and Sunday, so a Saturday night party is out," Julia said. She turned another page.

"Huh," I said again. She was a gymnast. I eyed her face, that square jaw and pointy little chin. "Huh."

"Huh," Jules mocked, giggling at me as she dug her bare foot into my crotch. "You're high as fuck, aren't you?" I blinked. Marie was a gymnast.

Okay, confession time. And this will come as no shock at all, I'm sure. Like every other male I've ever met, I have a fascination with female gymnasts. There's a reason it's a marquee event at the Olympics, and I've always thought that reason had nothing to do with an appreciation of the human form and the things it could be trained to do.

No, I've always thought it was more about flexible girls in leotards.

See, men are hard-wired to notice girls. All girls. Short, tall, fat, thin, young, old: we notice them. That's just biology. And when they're able to twist themselves like pretzels, while wearing revealing clothing, well, of course men will be even more fascinated. And when they're young, nubile, fresh, and wearing ponytails... Fuck.

Marie was a gymnast.

"You're looking at her like a sex offender, Chad," Jules told me helpfully. She was digging through my crotch again to get my attention. Marie smiled uncertainly. Me, I was picturing her doing the splits.

I'd never, ever fucked a gymnast.

And it wasn't for lack of trying. I'd been a swimmer Freshman year, so obviously I'd had plenty of aquatic snatch; I'd been pretty good, too, so the rest of the girls in the athletics department had been open to me also. And I'd taken advantage whenever I could; it was a miracle there were no little Chads running around out there. I'd fucked tennis players, runners, soccer players, even an assistant coach once. But never a gymnast. The closest I'd come had been a high jumper on the track team, and to tell the truth she hadn't been very good. But never a gymnast.

Marie was a gymnast.

I took one more hit before Jules took the bong away from me in disgust. "This shit is ruining your brain, Chad," she laughed. "Quit looking at my sweet, innocent roommate that way."

"Yeah, Chad," Marie said shyly. "I'm feeling like a piece of meat over here." She glanced over at Julia.

"Don't mind him, Rie," she said calmly, putting her magazine away. "He just needs a blowjob, is all." She sat up and moved closer to me. "You're welcome to stay; I don't think it'll take too long."

"Oh no," Marie said quickly, hopping off the loft to a graceful landing. "I'm off to the library, anyway. You two have fun!" I watched her retreating ass, dully aware of Jules unzipping my pants. At least Marie had learned to shut the door.

"That girl," Jules announced as she got my cock out, "needs a good, hard fucking." I nodded stupidly.

Marie was a gymnast...

* * *

The party was fine, but a little weird. There was, inevitably, too much booze and probably also too many drugs. But definitely too much booze. I remembered my toga getting ripped off by a heavily inebriated giggler named Tammy, then me dancing around in my tighty-whities. I remembered Joel lurching off to his room, puking as he went. I remembered doing body shots off some topless chick called Emma, her shrieking with laughter as the tequila dribbled down her pants.

But none of that was the weird part. The weird part is that I spent nearly the entire time thinking about Marie's little body.

I woke up the next morning stiff and sore, with my mouth tasting like pennies. I was right at the edge of my mattress, nearly falling off the bed, my head hanging off the side. I did a quick inventory of my body and realized why I couldn't move my legs: my underwear was wrapped tightly around my knees, leaving my ass exposed to the world. The sheets were... God, who the fuck even knew where the sheets had gone?

My world came into slow, uneven focus. My floor was totaled, the cheap carpet now stained with vomit and something that looked and smelled like urine. Julia Cooney lay trashed, sprawled in the remains of her toga beside a spilled bottle of gin. She snored very, very loudly. Jules was serving as a pillow for Emma, still topless, whose head lay across my girlfriend's thigh. Emma, too, was feeling little pain; I soon realized, from the looks of her pants, that the urine was probably hers.

"Guhh," I muttered. Beneath me my dick lay sticky, glued to the bare mattress. The sun was just rising in the window, and I cursed it as I blinked; it had woken me up. So I turned away, dragging my face across my stained bed to face the wall. Oh shit. There was another person lying next to me, some small-titted Korean chick. She was stark naked, her generous bush and smooth belly liberally spotted with what had to have been my spunk. Apparently, I'd fucked some Asian bitch while my girlfriend lay passed out on my floor a few feet away. At least I'd pulled out.

"Jesus Christ." My head was a grim, painful wasteland that morning. I blinked a few times, trying hard to remember. It was early; the three girls would be asleep for hours yet. I wondered if the Korean had felt good around my cock. She certainly looked good, all long limbs and a skinny body, with those dark eyes that...

Holy merciful fuck. Her eyes were open.

"Good morning, you," she said playfully, grinning through her smeared lipstick. She stretched languidly, like a cat, her pale little nipples taunting me. I gulped. "Hell of a party."

"Yeah," I quivered, trying to maintain my cool. As much as I could with my underwear around my knees and a strange naked girl in bed with me. My left arm was trapped beneath my ribcage, and it ached now; I carefully turned onto my right side to ease the pain. This meant I was now facing my Asian, my slimy dick flopping. She eyed it with a tired smile. I now realized her lipstick was streaked all over it. I flexed my left hand; she misinterpreted, taking it and putting it onto her hip as she rolled to face me. My fingers reflexively started to stroke her, and I lay powerlessly as my cock began responding. She gave a smirk and reached over.

I had no fucking idea what this game little whore's name was. Not a goddamn clue. But my dick didn't realize that as it rose helplessly in her cold hand.

I'd always been self-conscious about my dick. I'd seen in porn movies long ago that all the men had these long, thick, straight erections, and had no difficulty getting them into chicks. So, when I started getting older and my own erections were lopsided, I let it bother me. My cock, when hard, had a pronounced curve to the right. I used to think it was from excessive masturbation during early puberty (I am right-handed), but now I know it's just one of those things, a genetic quirk. Some guys were born with lightning-fast reflexes or better-than-perfect eyesight; I seemed to have been born with a curvy dick.

Fucking genes.

For a long time, I'd only ever fucked with the lights off. I'd avoided blowjobs ever since I was a college freshman, when a classmate who meant well had lightly kidded me after putting my dick in her mouth. I wondered if she realized the years of harm she'd caused. But after awhile, I'd started to realize I cared more about it than I should. Certainly there were few complaints from the pussies I fucked, so I guessed it didn't really matter. But still, there was that nagging sense of obscure shame as my new Asian friend got me hard, tugging expertly, her grinning mouth falling slightly open as she watched me firm up.

"Umm," I said, not trusting my voice; my gullet felt like it was coated with glass. Some of that vomit had to have been mine, then. I cleared my throat. "My, uh, my girlfriend's right over there," I said quietly, with an embarrassed smile. I'm usually more of a stud, but I wasn't at my best that morning. The Korean, her face radiating interest, propped herself up and leaned her sleek body over me to look.

"Which one?" she asked curiously, showing no signs of stopping as she fondled my balls. Her slender body was twisting across mine now. "Julia, or the slut with her boobs hanging out?"

"Julia." I still felt absolutely wrecked, but goddamn it, this Asian honey knew how to use her hands.

"She's in my program. She's pretty hot, for a ginger," the girl decided callously, nestling back into the mattress, "but her man's got his dick in my hand right now, and it's going back in my cunt. You'll just have to be quiet." She grinned wickedly as she gripped my junk and pulled me on top of her.

* * *

Jules was uncharacteristically quiet as I walked her slowly back toward Quannack Hall that morning. A big part of it was her obvious headache, but she was also walking a little oddly. "Chad, did you fuck me last night?"