I won a generous scholarship from the United Christian Youth League during my senior year in high school. It was merit based, and I won it on the basis of my grades and standardized test scores. I also had to write an essay. I wrote about the sins and immorality of homosexuality, which, when I look back at it, is pretty ironic.
My mother wanted me to take the money and go to a nice Christian school like Oral Roberts or Bobby Jones University, but I really wanted to go the Wellesley. Mother were skeptical of the school's liberal ethos at first, but ultimately relented. Wellesley gave me a generous financial aid package and, when combined with my scholarship, my parents would incur almost no out of pocket expense. Furthermore, My mother was delighted that Wellesley was an all women's college. She figured it easier for me to protect my chastity if these were no boys around.
I needed pocket money, so that summer I got a job at a Christian Youth Camp where I could help spread the gospel to younger teenagers while surrounded by the natural rustic beauty of God's creation. As camp counselors we were to model good Christian behavior to youngsters. However, the truth of the matter is that 18-year-old Christians are just as horny as 18-year-old non-Christians, and all the camp counselors were either fooling around or otherwise fucking one another.
Boy counselors had to stay in a dormer with rows of bunk beds. Girls stayed in two person cabins. If you were lucky enough to have a roommate get caught holding a beer or with her panties down, you'd get the place all to yourself.
The girl counselors were lectured about the importance of modesty. From what I heard, the boys received no such lecture and were free to wander the dormer with their dicks hanging out.
I had this roommate, Sarah, who, at the time, was the coolest person I had ever met. She had platinum blond hair and big boobs. Her eyebrows matched her hair color, and I wondered if she had a very expensive and detailed dye job or if platinum blond was her natural hair color. Sarah was not a modest person, and I found out the first night, as we got undressed for bed, that she was a natural blonde as her carpet matched her curtains. Even though I hadn't quite yet admitted to myself that I was a lesbian, deep down I knew that Sarah's white downy bush was among the best of all of God's creations. She had broad and dark brown areolas, which contrasted greatly with her normal lack of skin pigmentation everywhere else on her body. At night, with the lights off, you could tell if she was naked unless it was a new moon and the clouds blocked the stars. I always went to bed a little sad those nights.
We counselors placed enormous pressure on one other to find a fellow counselor of the opposite sex with whom to "go out." Of course, the term "going out" was a bit of a misnomer because we were in the middle of the woods with no true destination to where one could go out. Though, I guess, one could "go out" to fuck in the bushes.
I very much wanted to fit in, but I knew very little about boys. Sarah, however, had a lot of experience and informed me that one of the skinnier boys, Jeffrey, had a crush on me. I remember thinking Jeffrey was kind of cute, but, in retrospect, I know I only found him tolerable because his body was effeminate and his face girly looking. After we put the younger kids to bed, Jeffrey and I would find a not so subtle place to make out, that way another counselor would "accidently" discover us and tell everyone else what they saw. The arrangement worked out pretty well at first. Having a girl friend made Jeffrey feel manlier, and kissing Jeffrey allowed me to continue to pretend that I was not a lesbian.
I knew Jeffrey wanted more, so I let him feel up my tits. For groping, we went some place truly private. I didn't like it much. At the time I thought it was because Jeffrey's hands were always cold, but I now know that it was because Jeffrey was a boy.
The problem with boys is that if you give them an inch they try to take a mile. Jeffrey got a little more aggressive and insisted I let him such my tits. I let him, and he was terrible at it. His teeth would chafe against my nipples, leaving me sore for days. After a few weeks of nipple torture, Jeffrey flat out asked for sex. He said it would make the summer more special and implied I owed it to him because I made him so horny.
I asked Sarah what to do. She told me she had plenty of condoms in various colors, shapes, sizes, and textures and that I should simply pick one out. When I told her I didn't want Jeffrey's penis inside me, she said, rather nonchalantly, "Okay then, just suck his dick."
I knew very little about oral sex back then. I actually thought a blowjob meant pursing your lips around some guy's dick and forcing air out your lungs as if you were inflating a balloon. I had no idea where the air went. Sarah thought this was hilarious and couldn't stop laughing. I was completely humiliated.
Eventually Sarah regained her composure and informed me that, because we were good friends, she was going to show me how to blow a guy. She rummaged through her things and produced a compact travel vibrator. She kept it turned off for the tutorial.
"The key to a giving a good blowjob," she explained, "is to change things up frequently. You don't just want to put the guys cock in your mouth and move your head back and forth." She demonstrated on the vibrator. "You want to take it out of your mouth periodically and give it a good jerk with your hand. This creates different sensations for him and gives you a chance to rest your jaw if his dick is really big. If you want, when you are jerking him, you can suck his balls. Guys like that sort of thing, and it's kind of fun if his sack isn't too hairy. Also, don't just focus on sucking and jerking. You need to do a fair amount of licking. The two best places to lick are the underside of his dick just before the head and the ridge of his dick head on the opposite side. If you remember these tips, you'll have him cumming in no time."
Sarah had me practice a few times on her vibrator. It had a peculiar odor that I found it quite pleasing. When Sarah was satisfied that I had the basics down, she pushed me out of the cabin and told me to find Jeffrey and suck his dick.
Jeffrey was definitely on the small side, noticeably smaller than Sarah's compact travel vibrator. He was at most four inches long and probably only three around. He hardly had any pubic hair and his balls were tiny. I wonder, now, if he had some sort of hormonal imbalance. His little dick got as hard as a rock the instant I unzipped his fly and took it out of his pants. I did everything Sarah had instructed. I sucked his dick. I jerked it with my hand. I licked his smooth small ball sack. I remember thinking that his pre-cum tasted disgusting, and I worried that I might vomit were he to blow his load in my mouth. Fortunately, Jeffrey came while I was licking his undersurface right below his pokey little dick head. He didn't produce much of a load, just a few cum drops. One got on my cheek and the rest stained his dark slacks.
I remember feeling somewhat ambivalent on my solo walk back to the cabin. The experience wasn't sexually gratifying in the least. If anything, I felt a little grossed out. However, I was rather pleased with myself for mastering a new skill so quickly. I had mastered dick sucking in under an hour. I had appeased my inner overachiever, the same part of me that would later earn me a doctorate with less than three years of study.
Back at the cabin, Sarah was getting ready for bed. She had her tits out and was wearing nothing but tight black panties.
"How did the cock gobbling go?"
I told her I made Jeffrey cum pretty quickly.
"Did he have a big dick?"
I gestured with my fingers to demonstrate his length and girth.
"Wow! That's pretty small."
"I know, right."
"Did you swallow his cum?"
"No," I said, "does it taste really gross?"
"It's not terrible, kind of like salty grapefruit."
"I hate grapefruit."
"Did he go down on you?"
"You mean like oral?"
"Uh huh."
"No."
"Did he finger you?"
"No."
"Then you must be really frustrated."
I was, but not because of Jeffrey. I nodded.
"Then you should get yourself off. That's what I would do." Sarah said.
"You mean like masturbate?"
"I prefer the term 'flicking the bean.'"
I laughed. It was a funny term.
"You don't masturbate do you?" She asked.
"No."
"Well you should."
"Why?"
"So you can have an orgasm."
