In a Liberal Arts College, you learn a lot. They make you take classes that have absolutely nothing to do with your major. They make you participate in extra-curricular activities. They want you to leave well-rounded and experienced in all facets of life before facing the "real world."
They don't tell you what KIND of extra-curricular activities you should participate in...nor do they actually know exactly HOW well-rounded their students become when they graduate.
I participated in the television station. I wasn't going to. I was more of the quiet and shy type. Television was not my thing. Writing? Yes, please. Newspaper. Yearbook. Magazine. I'm all for. TV? No way did I want to be the center of attention. But, reluctantly dragged by a friend, I went. And then I saw him.
He was a sophomore. Had black, curly hair. Something about him - his personality, the fact that he just didn't give a damn about anything - and it showed...just attracted me to him. I was ecstatic when he picked me to work on his show - as an audio technician. I knew NOTHING about working an audio board, but I was determined to learn if it meant working with him.
We worked together for about a month before he finally asked me to hang out. Again, I'm the quiet and shy type. Who never had a boyfriend. Who never had even been kissed before. Seventeen years old. And I was OK with all of that.
Up until now.
When I headed over to his dorm room, his roommate happened to be there, much to my dismay. Yet we talked and learned a bit more about each other. That originally he didn't want to go into television. That his roommate liked to watch porn - and so did he, as they both promptly put on "Skinamax" at 11pm. That he liked to burn candles. Weird, yes. But oddly attractive.
I told him I never had a boyfriend. Which then led to the fact that I had never been kissed, never had sex and, yes, never had an orgasm. He sympathetically sighed and went back to watching television. I then thought that my chance had passed, as he was not interested in a girl with no experience.
I left his room, not knowing what would happen next. I went back to my dorm room and took a long cold shower, letting the water run down my legs in an effort to ease the throbbing ache of lust I was feeling. I had never before felt like this in my life, and I knew I'd have to do something about it. And soon.
I spent the entire night on Google, searching techniques and methods. Searching terms, watching porn, looking at pictures. I even ran into the shower, again, but this time to shave and trim my forest into something clean and neat, worthy of 'eating out.'
The next day came, and I passed him on my way to a class. Not a hello, not a second glance. I knew my chances were over. I had to run the audio board for his show that night, and he treated me like he treated all of his "workers," in fact he was even more hard on me by pointing out every little error I made and even berating me in front of everyone. I left humiliated and vowed to quit the following day.
Back in my room, I finished up a report and began to get ready for bed. Then, around two in the morning, I got a text message - asking me to help him fold wash. Since he was in the next dorm over, I slipped on my flip-flops wondering what he would want at this time of night, wondering if it was to REALLY fold wash, and headed out into the cold night air.
The laundry room was small and dark, as it was in the basement of his dorm. I was wearing what any college girl wore at two in the morning - plaid pajama pants, with no panties underneath, and a tank top. With no bra, of course. He took notice of that almost immediately when I walked into the room as my D-cups were staring up at him, longing for his touch. My erect nipples from the cold, and from the sight of him in only in his boxers, almost popped out of my shirt and as his gaze traveled upwards to my eyes, I saw that he knew what I was hoping for that night.
And then it was like a switch was flipped, as he quickly moved towards me and grabbed my back, pressing my body tight against his. I sharply inhaled his cologne as I felt something hard press against my stomach. I looked down to see a bulge popping out of his boxers. I went to say something, and he pressed his lips hard against my mouth. I slightly opened my mouth, not knowing what to expect, and his tongue started sucking my lips.
I had no idea what to do, or how to do it. I absently fumbled as if I knew what I was doing, running my hands along his body, his lean and fit body. Were they abs? Oh yes. They were. I kept moving my hands down towards his boxers, and stopped. I didn't know what to do. Do I touch it? Do I not? Do I wait for a signal? I tried to remember what I learned from Google the night before. Don't bite. Be gentle.
