Home From College

Look, being a freshman is hard. And lonely. And if you badgered me enough I'd have to admit I spent a lot of time alone in my room, hoping the roommate I'd been spending my days trying to get to like me couldn't hear the suppressed moans escape my mouth as I thought of all the ways I'd rather be

less

alone. I'd think of the boy that made my vanilla latte that morning and the way his voice wrapped around my name. Or the girl I sat next to in intro chem; her fingers aimlessly tracing the edges of her notebook. Or how it would feel to have every greasy guy playing hackysack on the quad take turns between my legs...

I've been home from my first year of college for a week now. I was definitely sad to hear my family had opened the pool without me in May, but now that I'm back it's like I never left. For as long as I can remember, I've spent every day of the summer, or spring as long as it was warm enough to not wear a jacket in Indiana, in the pool. By the second week of June my tan lines are usually embarrassingly obvious, and by those standards I'm late this year.

So until the rest of my friends get back from school, it's me and the pool: All day, every day. If not making enough friends at school and staying in most nights taught me anything, it's that I don't want to be stuck inside. The sun feels so fucking warm on my skin. When I'm home alone, I can usually muster the courage to at least untie my top. There's something totally forbidden about being naked outside, even if I know nobody will be home for a few hours. It's gotta be the fact that it feels so wrong that makes it so good.

I'm laying face down, my newest worthless fantasy book splayed in front of me and the strings of my bikini top laying loose on either side of my back, when I hear the kitchen door slide open.

"Lucy, hey! Welcome home. Is Connor here?" A chipper voice breaks through the haze of soaking in this much sun. It's Wyatt, my younger brother's friend. He's not usually who I see Connor with, but maybe they've been hanging out more since I left last fall.

"No," I say, craning to look at him as I wrap the strings of my top back around me, "I think he went downtown..."

But I saw Connor leave pretty early this morning. "You can hang if you want?" I suggest, "He'll probably be back soon." It seems worth a try; I know I look good in the sun, and Wyatt's cute enough for me to want company.

"Oh, okay! How have you been? Good to be back?" He moves from the doorway, landing reclined in the lounge chair next to me. He seems chill.

"Pretty good, I'm kinda alone until everyone gets out of school. But this isn't too bad," I smile, gesturing at my book and body.

On cue, his eyes trace me. "Right... well you look good. Like, really good. College suits you."

I barely think about it before I do it, but next thing I know I'm sitting up, facing him with my top hanging like a necklace. I reach up to fix my hair, careful not to glance down and reveal my nerves: Nobody's ever seen my nipples before. "Thank you."

He looks down, as anyone would, at the shape of my tits. I can feel my swimsuit dangling, know it's not covering anything anymore, and I reach across the space between us to touch his chest. He's wearing a white t-shirt, and I can see the shape of his nipples, too. We both move to the edge of our chairs, absolutely sure about what we're going to do next. His mouth lunges for mine, and I'm already desperate for it.

I've been kissed before, but this is all new. His lips graze, softly but with enough pressure that each is a move deeper into me. I feel his mouth part against mine and I fall open for him. Oh god-- his tongue.

It's so warm, and so soft, and I can imagine what it would feel like on every part of my body. It unwraps parts of me. He traces the edge of my tongue with his, over and over, and I start to do the same. We take turns, entering into each other as our bodies find a rhythm.

But he pulls away, one hand on my jaw and the other on the outside of my thigh. "God you're hot," he says "but are you good with this?"

"Yeah," I breathe, obviously still a little shocked, "I'm SO good with this." I smile at him, repositioning myself in front of him. Sure I'm nervous, I've never been this close with anyone. But I can already feel myself wet for him, and I know I'm ready.

"Why don't you lean back? Right here." He points to the chair behind me, and I slide into it.

"Good." I hear him say, and my chest fills. He takes his shirt off to match me, and I reach for him, pulling his mouth closer to mine. He smiles before devouring me again.

My hands wander, reaching for his neck and the back of his head and his shoulders and his waist. But I have no idea what I'm doing, so I let him take the lead, and he does. I feel the string around my neck loosen, and my top finally falls completely away. He moans as he looks at me, moving his body down. Lips and tongue blur together along my skin until he settles on my nipple, circling it as I feel my whole body ignite. A low, breathy "ohhh" escapes my mouth as his teeth tease me and I'm mortified until he responds with another delicious moan.

As soon as I get used to his mouth on me, he moves again, keeping me on edge. His face settles on my hip and he reaches to untie my bottoms. "May I?" He asked, his eyes cast up to meet mine.

A soft "Mmm hmm..." is literally all I can muster. My mind is on everything that's happening, but also how fucking good his hands and mouth feel on me. And how I want more.

So he unties them. His fingers trace my bikini line, teasing my hair and hips. He rests his lips on my hip bone and draws his index finger back and forth along the inside of my thigh, barely touching the outside of my lips. I can tell I'm practically dripping, and he can tell, too.

"You're ready for me, aren't you, Lucy? Should I give it to you?" He's teasing, and he does it so well.

"Please!" I moan. I don't want to look desperate, but I am. He's hovering over me, his mouth positioned above my clit, which is throbbing for attention, and his hands grip my hips so I know I'm his. "I want you inside me," I tell him softly.

"Okay, Lucy." he says, and I can hear his smirk even though my eyes are closed.

He pulls my bottoms completely off, letting my wet pussy feel the fresh air. It's electrifying, but I want his hands instead. He shimmies his shorts off and positions his body so it's centered on mine. He touches my clit, fucking finally, and I can actually hear my pussy part for him. "Fuck..." We both say, and I smile. It took him long enough, and his finger sets off a new pleasure in me. I feel it in my stomach, and my toes, and the top of my head. He slides his fingers along my lips, gliding easily in and out of my warmth. Satisfied, he grabs his dick, which had been resting on my belly, teasing me with its weight, and slides the tip along my clit. We both moan again, and I can feel him hard against me.

Finally, I feel him pushing into me. I take a deep breath, bracing for the pain I know will eventually give way to pleasure. "Yeah?" he asks. "Yeah. But can you, uh, go slow?" I stumble. He looks at me kindly, but I don't think it's pity. "Of course," he answered, "I'll go slow for you."

And he does. He opens me up, and it's more than I could have imagined. Pressure builds, but I feel the weight of his body on me and the softness of his mouth on my neck, and god it's good. After a few thrusts, it's nothing but waves of heavy pleasure. I feel myself wet around him, and he's hard inside me, both of us throbbing with each stroke.

"Fuck, Lucy, you feel so fucking good." he breathes into my ear. With his breath on top of me, and the size of him inside of me, I fold into him. "I'm gonna cum." he tells me.

"No! Pull out," I say. I may be distracted, but I know that much. He laughs breathily, and for the first time I feel small and innocent and a little foolish under him. "I will, Lucy. I've gotta get there first. I'll show you."

"Oh," is all I can say, and I decide I want him to show me this and everything our bodies could ever do. I want him to teach me how to move for him, and suck him dry, and make him feel good.

But for now, I watch him cum. He savors the last few thrusts, barely making it out and onto my clit before releasing his load. It's hot and thick, and I reach under him to feel it on me, rubbing it into myself. There's heat, both inside and out, radiating from my pussy, which is still throbbing from being fucked so hard. Wyatt's breathing heavily on top of me, his head sideways on my chest.

"That was so good," I offer, chuckling.

"Yeah," he says, "really good. But I should probably go..."

"Oh, right." Shit, I want him to stay. "Yeah, I'll tell Connor you stopped by."

"Thanks," he says, pulling on his shorts and shirt. "And thanks for this. I'll see you around."

"Sure," I agree, watching him walk out.

When I hear the front door open and close, I look down at myself. I'd just been fucked by my brother's friend, or maybe he fucked me. Either way, my nipples are hard and pink. My pussy is cool, still wet (from both of us now) in the wind. My bikini is laying on the grass, neglected but otherwise as if nothing happened. I pick it up, tie and adjust it to cover myself, and settle with my book again. Everyone should be back for dinner soon.