My name is Cat and this is a story about my sexual adventures back in my youth. As I've gotten older I've realized that I am really fond of these memories and sharing them gives me a thrill.
If you want to know what I look like, I'm kinda short, kinda ginger, and kinda busty. People call me "cute" - which I used to
hate
back in high school. I'd rather be called "beautiful", or "sexy", or even just "pretty". But I've made peace with the idea and now I'm happy to accept the description. "Cute" can still be "sexy", after all.
This story happened back when I was in college - which was some time ago and no, I'm not going to be specific about when. I'd never been what you'd call an innocent girl before I got there, but after I left home I really did start to embrace my sluttier impulses. I mean, we had thousands of horny 18-22 year olds crammed into dorm rooms - what did they think we were going to get up to?
In particular, this story is... not my proudest moment. I can only plead extenuating circumstances. Those being - I was horny as fuck.
My best friend Emily and I decided to take a road trip during our spring break. She'd been getting serious about this guy who played for our college baseball team and they were competing in some kind of tournament about three hours away. Don't ask me what for - I could never get interested in baseball. Baseball
players
on the other hand... yeah.
Emily was a full head taller than me, with dark brown hair - almost black.
She
was the kind of girl that guys called "beautiful", with her dark eyes and features that wouldn't be out of place in a magazine. Plus she always had this slight grin going on like she was planning something mischievous. As her friend I could have told them that she probably
was
, but that they might not like how that turned out. She had a wicked streak to her and she would change emotions on a dime, going from happy to angry with no warning. More than one guy at our high school got wrecked on the shores of "Hurricane Emily".
Her current obsession was a hunky dude everyone called Big Bird. I kid you not. I think his real name was Brad or something. He was tall, blonde, and beefy. Not my type, to be honest - but Emily always liked 'em large. The three of us had hung out quite a bit and I got along with him well enough. He was funny and not
overbearingly
macho. Emily would hang on him constantly and engage in spontaneous PDA whenever he so much as looked at another girl.
That should have been a warning sign. Whoops.
Anyway, she and I split the cost of a room in the same hotel where the team was staying. The unspoken assumption was that she and Bird would spend the night in the room together. He had a curfew, but as long as he was careful and back by the 7am team breakfast no one would care. I'd try to be out of the room as much as possible and I resigned myself to not getting much sleep.
Though what I was
really
hoping was that I'd be in Bird's room. In particular, with his friend Dean. Dean was a catcher - a shorter, slim guy with wiry black hair and a very baseball-player mustache. He was really handsome, and I liked the look of his strong thighs in the shorts they always wore. I also wanted to try out one of those "mustache rides" that people always advertised on their t-shirts and this was my first opportunity.
We checked in and dumped our bags on the beds, then headed out to the field to watch the team. They played one game in the morning and one in the afternoon. I wore some cutoff jean shorts and a bikini top that showed off my best features. Those being my tits. Between games Bird and Dean came over to hang with us and I did my best to dangle my chest Dean's way. For a catcher he was surprisingly bad at catching hints. I practically had to wedge his arm under my top before he seemed to get that I was into him.
The afternoon game dragged on so Emily and I went back to the air-conditioned room before it was over. We made plans to meet them for dinner. It was free time for the team and we were going to go to a nearby Chinese buffet.
I kept on the same jean shorts but added a tie-front shirt over the bikini top. This left lots of cleavage still visible, along with my bare midriff. Some colorful open toe sandals finished the outfit. Looking in the mirror Emily pronounced me "good enough to fuck". I just had to hope Dean felt the same way.
The guys met us in the lobby after they'd showered and we all walked over to the restaurant. I stayed close by Dean's side. He might have been shorter than Bird, but he was plenty taller than me. I made sure he had a good view down my shirt every time he said anything to me. His grin just kept getting bigger all during dinner, and I started getting the shivers of anticipation that come with seducing someone new.
And then a casual comment from the guys brought the whole thing to a halt.
They were
not
rooming together on this trip - they'd each been put with someone else. So the great room swap plan went down in flames. I dragged Emily to the bathroom to discuss our options and we decided we'd take turns in our room. She insisted on spending most of the night with Bird, so I said I'd take Dean back there after dinner. I told her to go see a movie or something for a couple hours. Then I could work out where I was staying later.
So when we left the buffet Emily said she wanted to go see a movie and I said I was tired and asked Dean to walk me back to the hotel. He said he wanted to see a movie, too - and it took a glare from Emily and Bird's helpful nudge to get him to realize what was going on. He was a sweet guy, truly - just not the sharpest bat in the bag.
I brushed my boobs against Dean's arm gently the whole way back. My nipples
had
to be clearly visible to him, and I was getting a little exhibitionist thrill from knowing that. My hand would graze his thighs as we walked and my heart skipped like a rabbit. I might have only a couple hours, but I was determined to make the most out of it.
I didn't even have to ask him to come in. I just unlocked the door and held it open for us both. By the time the lock clicked home I'd wrapped my arms around him and pulled his head down for a kiss. His mustache tickled, but he was a good kisser - slow and thorough. His hands slid down the sides of my shirt to the bare skin above the shorts and I did my best to purr happily for him.