It was 2009, move-in day at a small Christian college. Angela was a curvy 18-year-old with what she proudly described as "mid-sized, right-sized" breasts. Her parents weren't overly strict--trusting her for good reason. She was, after all, the quintessential "good girl." Well, except for that one time, one encounter with a boy when she was 18.
She didn't know what else to call it but "an encounter." It was after homecoming, and somehow she'd ended up alone with her high school "friend," who was also 18, in the back of a van his buddy had lent them. Her parents thought she was under the watchful eye of a school chaperone. She liked him, she trusted him, and after two years of knowing him, she thought, Why not?
But being with a boy in that way was a no-no. No, no, no, no.
He was kind, understanding, and just as awkward as she was, which made the whole thing unexpectedly special. But Angela had her boundaries. Bra and panties stayed on. No penetration. And to his credit, he was gracious, even fumbling in the most innocent ways. No need for a condom; he came in his shorts after a bit of light petting. Angela touched it--that thing. It reminded her of one of those water-filled novelty toys with a hard center.
For his part, he'd stroked her in all the right places. She'd inadvertently masturbated a few times before falling asleep at night but hadn't sought it out intentionally. Yet, his touch was different. Sweet. Fumbling fingers made their way under her panties, clumsily rubbing in circles. When she cried out in an unexpected orgasm, shaking slightly, it startled them both.
Afterward, there was the near-miss of getting caught and the quiet, mutual decision the next day: they'd wait for marriage. Those feelings were too strong and too risky, and neither of them wanted kids just yet.
Dana, on the other hand, was a wild card--hyper and full of energy, ADHD to the core. Her boundless energy made her a star on the soccer field. At barely five feet, she was one of the smallest but also one of the fastest, sharpest, and most aggressive defenders on her team. She didn't need to run opponents down--they couldn't get past her. Her scholarship had landed her at this small Christian college.
Dana had been with boyfriends before, all 18 or older. It wasn't like she'd waited for prom night to lose her virginity. High school boys and their hormones had been... underwhelming. Her last boyfriend--the one she fondly called "The Ex"--had been different. Their breakup hadn't been about fighting. It was college, distance, and the inevitability of change. But before it ended, they'd had one final, spectacular night together--arguably the best sex either had ever had. The next morning, they'd said mean things, and it was over.
Things unfolded as they do when two girls have to share the same small space. Angela wasn't shy, but as an only child with a bedroom all to herself, she wasn't used to worrying about being seen. Late nights in just a nightgown, or quick naked dashes in and out of the bathroom after a shower, had been her normal. That normal evaporated the first time Dana walked in unexpectedly.
Angela's mad dash for cover was met with laughter, and an hour later, they'd smoothed it over. After that, Angela stopped worrying about the "Bouncing Ta Ta nightgown." as Dana called it As for Dana, she had, as she put it, a "banging little body" and didn't mind showing it. Her perky little B-cups seemed to have a permanent VIP pass to the room. If she wanted to sit topless at the shared computer, Angela would just have to deal.
It wasn't long before they started talking about boys. Dana admitted she had a bit of experience but only one truly memorable night, with The Ex. Angela shared her story of sweetness in the back of the van and her decision to wait for marriage.
Bedtime, however, was where things diverged. Angela was the scholar, often up late studying. Dana had to be up early for practice, which meant Angela had to be quiet after dark.
It was during one of these late nights that Angela first heard the buzzing. Followed by a soft sigh of satisfaction. Then deep, steady breathing as Dana drifted into sleep.
Dana, it seemed, had brought her toys. And if she didn't want to share, well, Angela wasn't about to ask.
It was only the first quarter. The paper wouldn't write itself.
The first few weeks went by, and things were smooth--until he showed up. Chester was a sophomore and part of the boys' soccer team. For some reason, he started hanging out with Angela and Dana at lunch and dinner. Dana and Chester would be all chummy during meals, chatting and laughing, but by the end, he'd simply get up and leave.
Angela didn't think much of it. Nor did she think much about Dana's new habit of "going for a walk by myself to clear my head." She figured it was just Dana being Dana. After all, this small college didn't forbid boyfriends and girlfriends for the general student body, though they did frown on athletes getting "too friendly with the opposite sex" during the season. The unwritten rules were clear: "There is a time and place for fraternizing. School is for studying, and the rest of your time should be spent on soccer or swimming or whatever sport you earned your scholarship for."
So when Chester started making moves on Angela when Dana wasn't around, she was caught a little off guard--but flattered. He was nice on the eyes. Sure, his chest wasn't that broad, but that butt. Why did she like looking at that butt? And why did her eyes keep wandering to check if he was bulging on the other side of his pants? She couldn't help herself.
Seven weeks into the school year and two weeks into what she could only call a "courtship," she let him kiss her. He asked very politely, and she said yes. The next week, in his dorm room, they went to a place she'd been before with her "friend" back home--except this time, the boy was a man. A college man. He was completely naked and very much ready for action.
Chester was polite, though, always asking before he moved his hand. When she spelled it out--no penetration, no condom, and no, the panties stayed on--he didn't argue, didn't hint, didn't ask again. He just... accepted it.
He took off her bra, and she let him. That was enough for her. Then he showed her how to stroke his cock. He asked if she'd kiss it. She said no. So they stuck with the basics: up and down, up and down, as his hand stroked her panties in time with her strokes on him.
When he spouted out the white stuff, they both started laughing. He asked her if she enjoyed it. Did she...? Did she... cum? Not wanting to hurt his feelings, she said yes.
That was on a Wednesday.
On Thursday, he asked if she was doing anything Saturday night and if she'd like to go out on a date.
The girls' soccer team had an away game that weekend, while the boys' team was at home Friday. Angela could barely keep herself from spilling the whole thing to Dana, but she held back. Chester told her his scholarship might be in jeopardy if anyone thought his grades or playing were suffering because of a girlfriend.
Girlfriend. He'd called her his girlfriend.
Angela couldn't stop smiling. Sure, they had to keep it on the down low--at least until soccer season was over--but in that moment, she didn't care.
Saturday came, and Chester managed to borrow someone's car to drive them to another town for dinner. Over the meal, he carefully hinted--almost as an afterthought--that maybe they could use the condom tonight. He was so casual about it that Angela couldn't help herself; she started giggling.
"Yes!" she said.
