Csu Tales Pt 01 Ann

CSU Tales: Ann

Author’s note: CSU Tales are a loosely related set of stories detailing certain fantasies based on my college years. The characters, Ann, Betsy, Cindy, Lisa, and the narrator, are based on real people. We all met at our university’s Chritian Student Union (CSU) and all of us were born again Christians. However, we were not nearly as uptight as outsiders might think. At least, some of us weren’t. The names of people and organizations have been changed to protect those involved (including me!).

Also, I am looking for an editor (or editors) to help make my stories better, especially with regard to characterization and flow.

The clock chimed, breaking me out of the malaise I had been in for the last few minutes. The minute hand, slightly askew, tried desperately to point at twelve while the obedient minute hand pointed precisely at the six. “I can’t do this anymore,” I said, looking up from my books. “I just read the same paragraph three times and I

still

don’t know what it says. I think it’s time for a break,” I said in exasperation.

“Yeah, me, too. I’m about to pee in my pants,” Ann said, giggling.

I laughed. We had been studying since four o’clock and it felt like my eyeballs were about to burst, along with my bladder. Probably one of the reasons I was having trouble concentrating. “Yeah, me too,” I said as I stretched and groaned.

Ann leaped out of her chair at the kitchen table. “Race ya!” she yelled, peeling off toward the hallway. I jumped out of my chair to run after her. It was a small house and a short race. I caught up to her as she slammed the bathroom door in my face.

Ann was giggling uncontrollably. “I win, I win!” she hooted with glee, her voice muffled slightly by the door.

I hadn’t realized how much I actually needed to pee until that very moment. And it felt like I needed to pee,

at

that very moment. “Ann, if you don’t hurry up, I’m going out in your backyard and doing it where God and everyone can see me,” I threatened.

The giggling on the other side of the door stopped. “Don’t you dare,” she said, actually sounding concerned. “You can use my parent’s bathroom, just don’t move anything.”

“Okay,” I said, power walking toward her parent’s bedroom before she had even finished speaking.

I stood over the toilet and sighed in relief as my bladder released a stream of urine into the bowl. It seemed like it would never empty, but eventually, the stream became a trickle and then stopped. As I pulled up my underwear I could feel a drop of urine soaking into the fabric. “Dammit!” I swore under my breath. Oh well, you know what they say, “You can shake it in your fist, you can bang it on the wall, but until you put it in your pants. the last drop will never fall.” I washed up and walked into the hallway where the odor of buttered popcorn buffeted my olfactory senses. My stomach rumbled.

Ann looked up from the microwave when I walked into the kitchen. “Feel better?” she asked.

“You have no idea,” I said dramatically.

“Actually, I kind of do,” she said, giggling again, as she had been doing all night. Nights like these were what made my friendship with Ann so special. Her company and that of the rest of our group made the grueling task of studying somewhat more bearable.

Taking a moment to break the fourth wall, I need to describe Ann’s physical appearance. She was cute, maybe not what most guys consider “hot,” but still, she was cute. Her smile could light up a room and also serve as a warning that something silly was about to happen. She was about five feet four inches tall with shoulder length brown hair. Although she was not skinny, she was far from fat.

“When are Betsy and Lisa supposed to be here?” I asked. They had planned on joining us after they were done with activities with their respective families.

“I think Lisa said that they would get here around seven,” she said. “Betsy’s brother has their parent’s car tonight so Lisa is going to pick her up.”

I was the only male in a close-knit group made up of five friends, Ann, Cindy, Betsy, Lisa, and me. It was awkward at times because the girls would talk about almost anything in front of me. I appreciated the trust they had in me and that they felt comfortable enough to be relaxed in my presence. But sometimes... let’s just say I really didn’t want to know any more about their menstrual cycles.

We ate our popcorn, turned on the TV and then turned it off again because there was nothing to watch. Oh well, at least it wouldn’t serve as a distractor. Whenever I studied with Ann or any of the other girls, I always had a good time.

We talked about our plans for the future and Ann interrogated me about a girl that I had admitted to liking. Eventually, our conversation drifted to our plans after college. “For a graduation gift to myself, I think I’m going to get a boob job. Mom said she’ll pay for it if that’s what I want to do,” said Ann.

Far from being titillating, this comment made my heart sink. This wasn’t the first time she had said this, or even the second. I knew that Ann had tiny breasts from observation, and because she had talked about them in the past. She wore padded bras a lot (which I had helped wash and fold more than once) so that she looked like she was at least an A-cup. In reality, she was somewhere around a 32-AA, which was about as small as bras got. She had mentioned getting implants several times since we had become close friends. It was touching that she would share that with me, but it made me sad that she thought she needed to change her body to give herself confidence.

These conversations didn’t happen frequently, but they happened enough that it concerned me that her self image was so low. I usually countered with some version of, “Ann, I’m sure your breasts are beautiful, and any man who loves you will love you the way you are.” I wasn’t the first friend to ever tell her this, but I was the first male which I felt like should carry some weight. However, I don’t think she believed me any more than she believed her female friends.

We had both grown quiet, mindlessly chewing popcorn and staring into space. I really wanted Ann to have more confidence in the way she looked

now

, not with implants. Ann was a people pleaser, like me, but I felt that this was a line that she shouldn’t cross. She needed to please herself, not alter her body to please people who might not even care. I just didn’t know what I could actually do that would help her understand that, but I cared too much about Ann to not at least try.

“Ann, I’m sure your breasts are beautiful, and...” I trailed off, my thoughts racing. You know how sometimes a thought pops into your head and you speak before you think, which often ends up embarrassing you or someone else? I did it all the time, I couldn’t seem to help it.

“And what?” Ann asked, trying to figure out what I was saying.

“Ann,” I said, “I always tell you that I’m

sure

your breasts are beautiful, and I think that’s true, but I haven’t seen them, so maybe that’s why you don’t seem to believe me. There’s only one way I can know definitively and hopefully convince you that I’m sincere.” The words came tumbling out of my mouth. I wasn’t even sure they made sense.

Ann looked at me in confusion. It wasn’t an unusual reaction because I spoke rapidly whenever I was excited about an idea. “How do you think you can really convince that you’re telling the truth?” she asked.

I decided to plunge ahead. “Well, um, can I see them?” I asked very quietly. My face grew hot as I waited for her answer.

Her eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Can I see them?” I asked again, with a bit more confidence.

Ann looked at me suspiciously. She knew what I was asking, but I guess she wanted to be sure. “Can you see

what

?”

“Your breasts,” I said.

Ann’s face instantly turned red. “No, I don’t think so,” she said abruptly. “Besides, I’ve seen the way you look at Jenny Rhodes so I don’t think you really like small boobs.” She sounded angry, something I hadn’t seen very many times, and now that anger was directed at

me

. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“Uh...what are you talking about?” I said. I felt my stomach tighten up. Jenny came to CSU meetings every now and then. Jenny said of herself that she wasn’t really, “a church kind of girl,” but she liked the company and we also enjoyed hers. She was fun to talk to and she always had a smile on her face. And...she had an enormous rack. And when I say, “enormous,” I mean it. According to my female friends she was at least a G-cup or maybe even an H. I tried not to stare, but damn, it was hard sometimes. I had jerked off to the image of her tits more than once.

“I’ve seen you looking at her boobs,” Ann said accusingly.

“You have?” I asked, my voice rising at the end of the sentence.

“Yes,” she said. “You do a pretty good job of hiding it, but I’m around you too much to miss it. Oh, and Jenny has noticed, too. But she thinks you’re a nice guy and she really respects that, at least when you talk to her, you look at her face instead of looking at her chest. So, anyway, don’t tell me you like small boobs. You’ll just be telling me what you think I want to hear. Anyway, it makes me uncomfortable. I didn’t think you thought of me like that. I mean, in a sexual way.” she finished, quietly.

“Ann,” I said, with as much earnestness as I could, “I

don’t

think of you that way,” emphasizing the word ‘don’t.’ That was not completely true. I had beat off to the image of every one of my female friends, even though I felt ashamed when I did so. I was usually able to avoid using them as sex objects in my masturbatory fantasies; but every now and then...I just couldn’t help it. I was perpetually horny.

I began to feel calmer as my heart slowed down. I really felt this was the right thing to do. I was dedicated to this. “Ann,” I said, “there are no such things as bad boobs. I don’t care how big

or

small they are. Besides, Jenny’s are just kind of ‘out’ there. They’re hard not to notice. Anyway, no funny business,” I insisted. “No feeling you up, just looking and giving you my real, male opinion.” My voice betrayed the touch of anxiety that I could not completely rid myself of. It terrified me to think I might have damaged, or even ended, our friendship. “It was just an idea,” I said after a moment. “Let’s just forget about it.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Ann said, sounding detached.

My mind was in overdrive, imagining the worst possible scenarios. I couldn’t tell if she was just a little unsettled, or now, suspicious of my motives for being her friend. We sat on the couch eating popcorn silently. The silence was nearly palpable.

Finally, Ann spoke. “Why did you ask me that question?”

Instead of saying, “I told you that already,” which would have been condescending, I turned to her and said, “It’s like I said. I don’t like it when you run yourself down. I’m not out for a sexual thrill. I respect you, and our friendship, too much for that. I just want you to know what a guy really thinks about them. I’m not saying I

won’t

get a sexual thrill. I’m still human. I just want you to have a better body image and I can give you a perspective that your female friends can’t.”

I could see her turning this over in her head as she chewed her popcorn. After an interminable amount of time she spoke, but this time she looked at me.

“Did you mean what you said about not touching, no funny business?”

“Absolutely, I just want you to know what I think, from a male perspective,” I reiterated.

I can admit to myself now that part of me was getting hopeful that I

would

get to see her breasts, and not just to tell her what I saw as a guy. I was already thinking about masturbating to the image of whatever I saw, once I got home.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “but you have to be honest with me.”

“I promise,” I said. I was wearing athletic shorts (a major no-no when hanging out with female friends, even if you don’t sexualize them) so I imagined that my ‘honesty’ would be pretty apparent.

We were still sitting on the sofa. I turned my body to face Ann and she pulled her legs onto the sofa and sat facing me, her legs crossed. Ann closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she exhaled and said, “Here goes nothing.” With that, she reached down with both hands, grabbed the hem of her t-shirt, and pulled it over her head. Her eyes were still closed; she was breathing so rapidly I thought she might hyperventilate. Ann’s bra was white, with two triangles of fabric that bulged outward, but only a little bit. I could see the swells of her breasts under her bra, so she was not flat chested in a literal sense. Still, she wasn’t kidding when she said her breasts were small. And to tell you the truth, I

wasn’t

getting very excited. I hoped that I had not been lying to her. Maybe I wasn’t having the reaction I expected because her nervousness was rubbing off.

“Promise me you won’t laugh,” she said.

“I promise,” I said, “ because there won’t be any reason to laugh.”

With her eyes still squeezed tightly shut, she took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. She shrugged it off and dropped it in her lap. Her face was flushed. She continued to stare at her lap, afraid to meet my gaze. After a few seconds, she looked up, staring at me, anxiety and fear written clearly on her face.

“Well,” she said, her voice trembling, “what do you think?”

I looked her over, I looked at her breasts. They were small mounds on her chest spaced fairly far apart due to their small size. They were capped with long, pink nipples that sat upon puffy areolas, making her breasts looked pointed. They were tiny, and they were beautiful. I could feel my cock swelling rapidly as animal lust vied with human objectivity. I guess I had been wrong about my body not reacting. My cock was become so hard it was painful, due to being confined in my underwear. The desire to touch Ann’s breasts was so strong, I was now the one trembling, but I was able to exert self-control.

“Ann,” I said, “they’re beautiful, and they

are

desirable. You

are

desirable. I want you to know that I’m being as honest as I can, and I can prove it.” I stood up from the couch, making the large bulge in my athletic shorts very noticeable. Ann gasped and her face turned red.

I looked her straight in the eyes. “You did this to me,” I said. “Seeing your breasts gave me this erection. I won’t be able to stop thinking about them until I masturbate. That’s as honest as I can be, and as you can see, it’s something I can’t hide or control.”

After a moment a small smile ghosted her lips. “Thank you,” she said, “for being honest. Now sit back down, please.”

I sat down and pulled my legs up under me, still facing her. What I expected to happen was that she would put her bra and shirt back on and I would go jack off, because I hadn’t been kidding about that. But she wasn’t making any effort to put her clothes back on. She sat quietly for a moment, chewing on her lip.

“Um, I wasn’t kidding about needing to masturbate. I need to get rid of this before Lisa and Betsy get here,” I said, indicating the bulge in my shorts with a nod. She stayed silent, still chewing her lip and looking at her lap. Finally, she seemed to make a decision. She looked up at me.

“Do you want to touch them?” she finally said, so quietly I almost couldn’t hear her.

“Touch them? I told you I wasn’t doing this so I could take advantage of you,” I said. It took a lot to say that in a calm voice. I was uncomfortable and excited at the same time. What I really wanted to do was touch them the moment she asked. But I didn’t want to take advantage of one of my best friends. But I was so horny. My heart was beating so fast there was a roaring sound in my ears. “I just can’t do that,” I said.

“Please?” she pleaded.

I exhaled loudly. That was all I needed to hear, there was no way I could stop now. I reached out my hands and put one on each breast. These weren’t the first breasts I’d ever felt, but this was special, to know that Ann trusted me enough to do this. I squeezed them slightly, feeling the flesh compress as I squeezed it. I could feel her nipples push into my palms as they lengthened and pushed out. She closed her eyes and sighed.

“That feels good,” she murmured.

My penis throbbed in my pants, twitching from time to time. After hearing her sigh and saying that it felt good, instinct took over. I couldn’t help myself. I leaned over, took my right hand off of her left breast, and replaced it with my mouth. I looked up into her eyes as I swirled my tongue around her nipple and areola.

Her eyes flew open. “What are you doing?” she said in alarm. I switched from swirling to sucking while massaging her other breast with my free hand. Its hard nipple poked insistently at my palm. A moan escaped from her mouth and the look of alarm was replaced with a look of sheer bliss. She closed her eyes and moaned again. I was in heaven.

“Suck my whole breast into your mouth,” she said urgently. “Suck on both of them!”

I was happy to oblige. I sucked her whole breast into my mouth. I began sucking on her other breast, switching from one to the other. Ann was panting, and I was afraid that I was going to cum in my pants. She began breathing raggedly. “Suck harder!” she said. “Squeeze the other one as hard as you can. Don’t stop!” Ann wasn’t yelling, but she was speaking insistently.

I couldn’t believe how assertive, and wild, Ann had become. This was a side of her that I had never seen. She was was now gasping. “Oh God! Oh God! Don’t stop! Dontstop; Dontstop; Dontstop, DON’T STOP!” Ohgod...itfeelssogood! I’m think I’m about to...oh yes! Oh yes! Oh, God, yes! I’m having an orgasm!”

I could feel her entire body trembling as her orgasm ripped through her.

“Oh my God, oh my god, oh.....” her voice trailed off as her orgasm subsided.

“I’ve never felt that good in my life,” she said. “Even when I...” suddenly she stopped speaking, and looked embarrassed.

“‘Even when I’ what?” I asked. I had a pretty good idea what her answer would be, but I wanted to hear her say it. She had had her orgasm, but my lust was still coursing through my veins and it felt like I had an iron rod in my pants. My cock

needed

to hear her say it.

She looked down and her voice got very quiet. “Even when I masturbate,” she mumbled.

I put my finger under her chin lifted her head up to look at me. “Hey,” I said, “that’s perfectly normal. And right now, honestly, it sounds really hot. You better get dressed,” I said, “or we might do something we’ll both regret. Because right now? I’d like nothing better than to pull out my erect cock right here on this couch and have you stroke it with your hand until I cum.”

Ann’s eyes got wide.

“Don’t say anything,” I said. “Because if you say anything that even remotely sounds like approval, I won’t be able to stop. But I hope you do realize one thing. Your breasts are beautiful, and they are erotic.” I grabbed my erection through my pants in emphasis. “I hope that you believe me.”

Ann nodded her head. “I do...Mark...thank you. It’s going to be hard to stop thinking they’re too small, but what we did, even though it can’t happen again, I think it really did help.”

“I’m glad,” I said, and I meant it.

We could see headlights lighting up the dining room as they shone through the windows.

“Oh, crap!” I said. I looked at my watch; 7:02.

“Lisa and Betsy are here!” said Ann in a panic. She began frantically putting her bra on.

“Um, I gotta go to the bathroom!” I yelled as I ran down the hallway. I ran into the bathroom and shut the door, making doubly sure that it was locked. My heart was beating like a cheetah on speed. The doorbell rang. I heard Ann open the door and greet Lisa and Betsy. Although I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I heard laughing.