Heather And Lois And Me

Lois and Rick, the two college friends who lived together and threw the Halloween party I mentioned in my story, "Feeling Kind Of Lucky," had been girlfriend-boyfriend for years before I ever met them, and Lois was best friends with Heather, the younger sister of my roommate Gary, who was also featured in that same story. Here's another true college story, this one about Lois, Heather, and me.

Rick and Lois' 5-year relationship was on the rocks, and she began spending more and more time at the apartment Gary and I shared. I had come to know Lois quite well and really liked her and, although I always thought she was extremely attractive, had never fooled around with her even though such thoughts had crossed my mind many times. She and Rick finally broke up, and he was not dealing with it well. She had told Gary and me on one of her visits to our place that Rick, in his mindless jealousy, had tried to beat up another, relatively new friend of hers that we all knew, a flaming gay fellow who had no sexual interest in her, or any woman.

Rick could simply not accept that it was over with his gorgeous young Lois (he was about 40 and she was 22). He even stormed into my apartment and tried to mix it up with me, accusing me of boinking her and being responsible for their demise. I had nothing to fight about and finally stabilized him before he tore my place up. I really thought I was going to have to clock him that afternoon.

She had moved out and gotten her own place but came over all the time, as she and Gary and Heather had been friends since grammar school. Gary had told me about the one-and-only time he and Lois had got it on way back then when they were 15 and had commented that she occasionally, though very rarely, just decided she would have sex with someone, seemingly out of the blue, and that's how his own single encounter with her had happened when she had slept over at his and Heather's parent's house in the city where they all grew up.

However, I had long before categorized Lois as a friend I would never have sex with. Although Heather went to another college, it was only a few hours drive from our university, so she always stayed with her brother Gary and me when she visited her best friend Lois, who had lived with Rick throughout college. Well, Heather was staying with us one weekend, and naturally, Lois came right over shortly after she arrived. When Lois got to our place, with a big duffel bag, she had a different demeanor from usual, although I couldn't really say exactly how. But she was behaving somewhat differently, bolder than usual.

The four of us were chatting, and out from the bag Lois pulled a really interesting looking pot she had thrown, glazed, and fired. She was an art major, and said it was a gift for me, which I gladly accepted. I asked her what the occasion was, and she said there was none, but that she really wanted me to have it. This was strange, I thought. She had never given me anything before. It was a great-looking piece of ceramic. A psychology major, I contemplated what Freud would make of this gift. Hmmm, a piece of soft clay she'd plunged her fingers into to fashion, then fired to render a unique, slick pot with a deep hole. Had she just given me, symbolically, her vagina?

Heather took a shower, and then Lois asked if she could shower there, too. I said sure, but was puzzled, knowing that she had a perfectly good shower at her new place just a few blocks away. What was up with Lois, anyway?

When Lois emerged from the shower, she was wearing a thin, white, tight-fitting cotton jump suit, and since she was still damp, you could see right through it. She never dressed this way. She looked dy-no-mite! An aerobics instructor (this was the early '80s, and not too many people even knew what "aerobics' was), she was in great shape with a drop-dead gorgeous, Playboy centerfold figure. Bra-less, she had a large pair of superb breasts--probably 36D—and to this day, the firmest I've ever seen. They literally defied the laws of physics, and were causing her jump suit to gap open where it buttoned up the front. Damn!

She was about 5'4" tall, 115 lbs, and I could see her strong leg muscles rippling beneath the fabric as she wiggled her feet into her sandals. Her quite visible nipples, hardening from the A/C we always kept uncomfortably cold after we determined the utilities were accidentally being charged to another apartment, were bright pink and matched her full kiss-me lips. With her naturally blond hair wet, you could tell that the shape of her head would make her look great even if she were totally bald. Her one "flaw," was a big nose, a nose that was regular except that it had a jack-ball-size bulge on its tip, and to me, actually was an enhancement, in that it made her distinctive.

She was very "earthy," so, as usual, she wore no make-up, and really didn't need any, since her pink lips contrasted dramatically against her very fair skin, and her extremely large gray eyes peered beneath prominent brow ridges. Turns out Heather and she had plans to drive up to her gay friend's cabin in the mountains that evening and stay the weekend. They invited us to go with them, but Gary had to work the next day, so Lois said, "I guess it'll just be you and me and Heather then." "I guess so," I acceded, trying to suppress the far-fetched notion of sex with Lois.

While I gathered my things, I noticed Heather doing her yoga exercises in the middle of the floor. She was unbelievably flexible. Being Gary's little sister, I had never really thought of her as being attractive or not, but she was, like Gary, very short, and had lost weight recently, especially around her waist, which really accentuated her hips and huge boobs, which were about 38DD, maybe bigger, and quite pendulous. Also an "earth mother" type, she had really long, super-thick light brown hair down to the bottom of her butt, and a beautiful, wide smile on her always-happy face. Hmmm, I thought, I've never thought of Heather as good-looking, but she is.

She was wearing a one-piece Danskin and had now folded both her legs behind her head. I don't know what you call this yoga position, but I could clearly see her prominent labia bulging against the tight, stretchy fabric. The edges of her pussy lips were peaking out, but I didn't stare, though I wanted to. It being late summer, she had a very dark tan with no lines showing even in this revealing position. Apparently, she had been sunbathing nude.

So we departed for the cabin in the mountains. Lois drove her little Japanese station wagon, Heather rode in the front passenger seat, and I straddled the transmission hump in the middle of the back seat as I fulfilled my duties as roller of the funny cigarettes. Even though neither Lois nor Heather drank alcohol, Lois asked if I wanted to stop to pick up some beer, so we did, getting a 12-pack along with country ham and eggs and other breakfast stuff for the following morning.

I thought we'd never get there. We drove down ever smaller back roads around hairpin turns through the pitch-black night until we finally arrived at the cabin really late. Their gay friend, though he could not himself be there, had lent the place to them for the whole weekend. I'd finished half of the Bud by myself and was feeling pretty good. It was too dark to see anything outside, but the inside of this cabin was huge and decorated tastefully in rustic antiques. Up above, there was a loft that slept up to six people in cots. Would that be my sleeping quarters? The loft overlooked the large ground floor below. It was cool up there in the mountains, so I started a big fire in the enormous fireplace.

Right in front of it there was one tall old-fashioned bed a good four feet off the hardwood floor. Lois looked me straight in the eye and said, "Here's the bed." "The" bed, I questioned silently to myself. I could hear Heather rustling about in the loft, apparently preparing one of the cots for herself. Well, the six beers and doobs had loosened my reticence somewhat, so, standing on the far side of the bed, I mustered the courage to say to Lois, "I can't think of anything I'd rather do than share this bed with you."

Lois said nothing. She was standing sideways by the bright, roaring fire, and I could see, better than ever, her every curve beneath that thin jump suit. For the first time, I could see that she was wearing no panties and could even see her trimmed bush. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally turned to face me. Slowly but deliberately, she began to unbutton the jump suit from top to bottom until it was completely unfastened to her crotch and barely hanging from her shoulders. Still, she said nothing, so I unbuttoned my shirt and unbuckled my belt and the button and zipper on my shorts, they barely hanging by my hips. Then, with a tiny shrug, she flexed her shoulders and the jump suit fell to her ankles, revealing her Playboy centerfold-of-the century nakedness. Likewise, I let my shirt and shorts and boxers fall to the floor, exposing my darkly tanned nudity and half-erection. We just stood there for several minutes, she on one side of the bed and I on the other, smiling and staring at one another, drinking in the visual delight. Finally, at once, we reached across the bed and touched hands, helping each other up into the tall old bed as it creaked loudly over the popping fire.

We were in no hurry and took our time, completely silently. First, we sat in the bed face to face, very close with our legs around each other's hips and smoothed our hands over each other's bodies and around our faces. I squeezed her supple arms and tops of her hips and worked my fingers, one vertebra at a time from the bottom of her back all the way up to the top of her neck and then up through her soft, shoulder-length hair into her scalp, massaging it firmly with my large piano-playing hands.

Simultaneously, she—the potter--worked me with her strong hands like a clump of clay—arms, neck, chest. She took her time before grasping my big throbbing piece of meat in those hands of hers. This potter had the best hands of any woman I've ever had sex with, knowing just the right amount of pressure and how far to stroke my shaft. As she did so, I watched the inside of her muscular upper arms press against her natural breasts, arranging them in countless shapes.

I touched them for the first time, and let me tell you again, never have I experienced such large AND firm tits sticking straight out like footballs. "Way up firm and high," as Bob Seger sings in Night Moves. I could have played with them for hours, and may have. Needing to suck and lick them, I turned her around and laid her face up against the pillows. As I did so, I noticed a wet spot on the sheets where her vagina had been. In due time, I thought. I made ever smaller circles around the perimeter of her nipples with my tongue until I came to the points, so rubbery hard, and sucked them and carefully adjusted my suction and licking to her maximum pleasure. I stuck them within my eye sockets, even into my ear canal as she stroked my rod between her soft inner thighs. I thought to myself, I'm not really a tit man, but I'm becoming one quickly.

I moved up and straddled her chest and she grasped my very hard member and rubbed it expertly against those wet nipples glistening in the firelight. Lois then pushed both boobs with her hands from beneath them up toward her mouth, stuck out her long pink tongue, and licked between them, getting them really wet. I then slid my manhood into her slippery cleavage and she sucked its tip each time I protruded through to the other side. Back and forth I slowly plunged as she squeezed them together from the sides and moved them up and down around me in perfect time to my motions.

With her head bent forward I would then enter her sucking and tonguing mouth ever deeper as my balls slid on between her wet boobs. My penis was saying, "I wanna come now and spew all over these orbs and her neck and face!" But my mind said, "Listen to me, penis, we're just getting started here. Keep that cum in your balls until I say you can come out and play. You cooperate and maybe we can come back here later and you'll get your wish. But I'm not making any promises. Have you forgotten how good a vagina can be?!!"

So the next stop was Vaginaville. I rolled Lois over on top of me in a 69 with her genitals pointed toward the fireplace so I could see her good as she immediately began to suck me at just the right pace. And what a lovely kitty she had: like her nipples, now brushing my stomach, it was bright pink and oh so wet planted between two aerobic-instructor tight buns atop those muscular upper legs. Her vaginal lips looked remarkably like her facial lips—small but very full and puffy, almost as if they had been inflated. Her clitoris, in this position, was fully exposed from its hood, and looked remarkably like her nipples. Whatever, it veritably screamed, "You can't miss this. Lick me! Suck me!" And so I did, occasionally moving up to thrust my tongue into her medium-size hole to stimulate her G-spot as I used my freshly shaved chin to keep working that clit.

All the while, she was blowing me ever so fine. She knew just how to coordinate her hands with her mouth, periodically removing it to use her hands alone as she looked at my penis intently. Our motions were in perfect unison at just the right pace for both of us, yet I had to scold my penis once again when it hollered, "I wanna cum in her mouth! Bet she can't swallow all my cum!" "Listen you," I berated, "Get it together. I'm down here working myself silly on this fine vagina getting her primed and wet just for you, and you're talking spurting in her mouth before you've even paid a courtesy call down here. Do you realize what you want to do qualifies as a Class A Premature Ejaculation in this state? Choke back, son, at least until you get down here and chalk up a vaginal orgasm for the poor gal!"

Well, Lois popped her mouth off me, choked it with a hand, and rared back, pinning my head between her vulva and the mattress and grinding up what turned out to be her first orgasm. Her utter silence had been broken with a very high-pitched moan, not unlike that of a dog when it hears a siren, followed by rapid-fire, staccato moans at the same high pitch. She had my whole face trapped so tightly between the bed and her bottom that I could not breathe! I hated to do it during her orgasm, but I had to force her up in order to live to tell this story. As I did so, streams of her juices were actually spurting out in bolts from within her vagina, similar to a man ejaculating, onto my face, neck, and upper chest. Wow! So I quickly got some air and repositioned myself to keep her climax in process and lap up as much as possible of this delicious nectar. It was soooooooo good and a truly amazing sight to behold.

Still in the 69, Lois collapsed forward, her head between my thighs and my throbbing rod between her breasts. Recovering from her orgasm, she was very still except for her hard breathing. All this activity and the hot fire nearby had her sweating, and my penis felt great pinned between her firm, moist boobs as they moved around them from her heaving breaths. I judged she needed a few more minutes before we proceeded, so I grabbed a nearby pillow, stuck it beneath my head, and just enjoyed the view of her bottom only a foot away. What a fabulous sight! Those buns, so muscular, so soft, so round. Her tiny, cute little bottom hole, bright pink with teeny-weeny little wrinkles. Below, on her vagina, I watched the nectar very slowly accumulate into a drop that eventually became heavy enough to creep down across her love button to the clitoral hood and finally drip onto my chest. The next time, I caught the drip on the tip of my finger and licked it off. Yummmm.

Her breathing eased, Lois turned around to face me and grasped my meat in one hand as she straddled my hips on top of me. She rubbed its tip back and forth between her luscious labia, then wiggled it sideways across her clit. Slowly she eased its helmet inside her warm wetness. Just when I thought she was going to sit all the way down on it, she, instead, withdrew it entirely, backed down towards my feet, and started licking my scrotum with that long pink tongue. She took a testicle gently into her mouth and sucked it, then the other and sucked on it. Then she got both of them in her mouth and somehow managed to position one ball in the pocket of her cheek on one side and the other ball in her cheek on the other side. This put her front teeth and tongue right in the middle of my scrotum, that she expertly licked and nibbled to the tune of loud sucking and sloshing sounds. As she did this, she firmly clutched my shaft with both hands, like a baseball bat, and began jerking up and down—only about half an inch--very fast. Simply divine, I thought, I wonder if she could patent this technique? Lois knew just how hard to squeeze my penis to keep me about 1% away from cumming.

Next, keeping one hand's thumb and index finger tightly encircled around the base, she licked me up and down and up and down, all around, before turning her head sideways and pursing her lips out in an exaggerated kiss to rub hard against the underside of my throbbing limb. She would alternately protrude her tongue between her pooched out lips to simultaneously wiggle it against me, then pull her tongue back in and apply audible suction through her flared lips. While she performed these astonishing oral tricks, her other hand, paralleling her up and down mouth motions, was cupped on the top side of my shaft, giving the sensation of it being fully enclosed. Hmmm, could this be patented, too, or perhaps she should write a book, "How to Drive a Man Wild with Incredible Oral Sex: The Complete Guide."

She noticed a sizable drop of pre-cum and gently dragged her upper lip through it to paint it with semen. Looking right at me, she licked it from her lip and smiled. Then, lightning quick without warning, she sucked my entire length down her throat, including both balls pocketed in her cheeks!!! I would not be surprised if, at that juncture, my normal 7-incher, had lengthened an additional inch! I could feel and see the peristalsis of her throat muscles swallowing and hear her breathing hard through her nostrils. It took every nano-gram of concentration to keep myself from cumming, and, expert that she was, Lois correctly read me, backed off an inch to release my balls, and choked Charley hard at his base with her hand just in time to keep him from spilling his guts.

With her free hand, and without looking away, she reached over into the open 12-pack on the bedside table and handed me two cool Buds. "Manages multiple priorities," should go on her resume, I thought. As I popped the top and slammed down a brew, she carefully removed me from her sword-swallowing mouth and assumed a "doggie-style" position, arching her beautiful back dramatically. Pointing her dripping vulva in perfect alignment with my rock-hard erection, she looked back around at me with those big gray eyes and smiled faintly. She had still not spoken a single word. "Excellent non-verbal communication skills," I noted for her resume. I chugged down the second beer, crashed both bottles into the fireplace, and parted her labia with the tip of my penis. Without hesitation, she rocked backwards and plunged me all the way into her. Oh, glory be!

Her vagina fit me like a hand in custom-made Italian leather gloves. We started slowly and very gradually over the next half-hour picked up the pace of thrusting. We shared the "work" 50-50, she rocking back a few inches as I plunged forward a few inches in perfect unison. We were both so relaxed that, at one point, I accidentally let out an enormously loud and embarrassing beer belch, to which she giggled softly but never lost our rhythm. She would occasionally reach back and massage my slapping testicles as I would periodically reach around her to squeeze her breasts and gently pinch her nipples. Her lovely buns would ripple as my hips bumped them on the in stroke, and I spanked them with an open hand medium hard several times, leaving her fair skin a little pink. I could tell she liked this, so I spanked her a bit harder the next few times, reddening both sides.