Several months have gone by and it's late on a Friday evening...
Stanford operates on an academic quarter system. Bonnie and I finished our final exams for the spring quarter earlier today. As with the first two quarters, we have no reason to believe that our straight-A status will not continue unabated. Twelve days from now we'll begin classes for the summer quarter. Until then, we are free to do as we wish.
Well, almost. The drinking age in California is twenty-one. Bonnie and I both turned nineteen during the spring quarter, so we will still have to depend on others for access to alcoholic beverages for two more years. Neither of us is a lush, but we do enjoy wine or beer from time to time. Fortunately, my boyfriend Zach turned twenty-one last fall and Bonnie's boyfriend Darren reached the magic age in January. Both are more than happy to ply us with booze and then have their way with us.
All of us are looking forward to the break. Bonnie and I were raised in Calabasas and the guys are from nearby Pacific Palisades. We were all home for a week at Thanksgiving, nearly two weeks at Christmas, and then another long visit between the winter and spring quarters. During each of those visits everyone was under heavy family pressure to stick close to home, so our sex lives suffered a bit, having become accustomed to enjoying sex several times each week when classes are in session.
This time, Bonnie and I are not going home. The guys have already left to attend a wedding in the Palisades but will return to Stanford on Monday. None of us has yet decided how we want to spend our free time over the break, but we're up for almost anything. Until they get back and we all figure out what we want to do, Bonnie and I have some time to kill.
"I've been thinking lately," Bonnie begins. We have showered, returned to our room, and are now going through our bedtime routine. She has already brushed my hair and now I'm working on her luxurious mane.
"Uh oh," I respond, smiling to myself. "Wanna tell me about it?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Let's hear it then."
"I'm bored with my sex life," she replies, causing my heartrate to jump a bit.
"With you and me?" I ask. Bonnie and I started having sex with each other shortly after our arrival at Stanford and several weeks before we met Zach and Darren. The guys know nothing about it and we've been careful to keep it that way so far. As roommates, we enjoy each other whenever the urge overtakes us, which happens often. What we've shared has been mind-blowing for both of us, or so I've believed.
"Not you and me. Darren and me," she replies, squirming a little where she is perched on the edge of my bed.
"How long have you been feeling this way," I enquire, pleased with her answer but surprised by her admission, "and why haven't you told me?"
"A couple of weeks, and I thought it might be temporary. Now I know it's not. Darren and I have used every possible position multiple times, licked and sucked every inch of each other's bodies, and had sex in places where we had a delicious risk of getting caught." I know this already. Bonnie and I share every detail of what we do with our boyfriends.
"I understand," I reply, having had much the same experiences with Zach. "Maybe you should just give it a bit more time."
"More time isn't going to help," she responds with a loud sigh. "Here I am at the ripe old age of nineteen and I feel like I've already sampled everything sex has to offer. It's depressing."
Suddenly, her admission strikes an uncomfortable chord with me. I have been vaguely aware of something gnawing at my subconscious about my relationship with Zach. And then Bonnie catches me by surprise for the second time in as many minutes.
"Do you see your relationship with Zach going the distance?"
"Wha...what do you mean?" I stammer, stalling for time while I try to examine my feelings.
"You know. Marriage, kids, a picket fence, all that stuff." I don't answer for several long moments.
"No." I eventually admit. "I haven't been thinking that far ahead. I don't have a clue about what I want to do with my life. I'm not even sure what my major is going to be. I like Zach a lot, but I don't see him as my future husband."
"Exactly," Bonnie agrees. "I feel the same way; about my life, school, and Darren. And now I'm finding sex with Darren has become boring. It feels good so I still enjoy it, but it's getting to be pretty routine stuff. We're in a rut."
"Oh fuck," I murmur. "I've sensed something similar about Zach and me, but I couldn't put a name to it. Boredom hadn't occurred to me."
"Well, the guys won't be back until Monday so we have all weekend to think everything over," she announces. "So let's have sex. That should get our minds off sex," she adds with a giggle.
"Then let's use the dildo. I like to watch your face when you cum," I tell her with a wide grin as I pull the implement from its hiding place in the plastic bin under my bed.
The dildo was a gift from Mitch, a porn star who works at the studio where my mother is a highly regarded director of upscale sex videos. Mitch is also a high-class escort with extraordinary lovemaking skills. At my request, and with my mother's reluctant help, he relieved me of my virginity on my eighteenth birthday, giving me an unexpected orgasm in the process. The event was captured on video, as were two subsequent encounters with him; one with Bonnie, and a second episode with me. Our little movies have provided plenty of entertainment since then.
The dildo is perfectly sculpted, very much like Mitch's cock and about the same size. It is made of smooth flesh-like material, probably some form of silicone. Perhaps its most useful feature is a handle about four inches long, similar to the end of a baseball bat, that provides its user with precise control. Very heavy tungsten testicles sway gently back and forth as I wave it about it the air, still grinning at Bonnie.
Several minutes later, after taking time to make out like the teenagers we are, Bonnie is lying naked on her back in my bed. Her head is raised on a stack of pillows so she can watch what I'm doing between her widely splayed legs. We have agreed to be gentle tonight and make everything last as long as possible.
Sitting cross-legged between her knees, I am slowly moving the large, lubricated phallus in and out of her pussy and earning soft moans of pleasure for my efforts. On occasion I lean forward and gently stroke her clit with my thumb to get a sharper cry of arousal. I love listening to her.
Fifteen minutes more and I have her teetering on the edge.
"Harder!" she suddenly demands and I immediately increase the speed and force of my thrusting. A few more flicks of my thumb across her clit send her over the top with a high-pitched wail and an extended series of orgasmic spasms. I keep thrusting until I'm certain her climax has run its course.
I withdraw the dildo but stay where I am, gently stroking the inside of her thighs while she regains control of her breathing. The soft skin is slick with lubricant and glistens in the light from my bedside lamp. One forearm is resting across her eyes as her breathing slows. Finally, a slight tremor signals the last of her aftershocks.
"My turn," she eventually announces with a languid smile and we change positions. What happens to me is a carbon copy of what I just did to her. I watch the dildo rhythmically disappear and reappear between my open thighs for as long as I am able. Finally, drowning in sensation, I clamp a hand over my mouth and cum with a muffled shriek, my entire body trembling in exquisite release.
"Oh God that was good," I murmur when I am able to form words. "Come lie with me."
****
It is nine o'-clock on Saturday morning and we are just finishing breakfast in the dining hall.
"Aside from my issue with Darren, there's one more thing that's been on my mind," Bonnie announces, looking across the table at me.
"Let's hear it," I urge, wondering what else could be bothering her that I didn't already know about.
"I don't know how many times we've watched the videos of us with Mitch, but something suddenly dawned on me the other night while we were watching the one of him fucking me last year," she replies.
"And?"
"You were in the room with me when it happened."
"I certainly was," I respond with a smile. "And as I recall, you insisted that I be there."
"Yes I did. I wasn't about to go through with it unless you were with me."
