Sometimes I Wonder 1

Author's Note: Hey y'all...sorry I haven't had much time to write since the holidays, but I'm sure y'all can appreciate how challenging and difficult RL can get sometimes... Anyways, this little tale of mine includes sexually explicit material and is intended for adults at least 18 years of age. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

-loverofFUN

Sometimes I Wonder...

Every once in a while I think back to my junior year of college...to one night in particular.

When I take a mental step back and reflect, I realize I actually haven't shared the story behind this memory with very many people. It's not because I'm ashamed of it or embarrassed by it. I guess the reason is because it's my most intimate experience with another woman and I cherish it as something very personal...it's a very special memory indeed.

I still remember quite a few details about that fall. The trees had just started to turn all these glorious hues of red, orange and yellow. I love that time of year to this day and have ever since I was little, but I especially loved it when I was in college. The semester still felt fairly new so I didn't really mind going to all those lectures. I would enjoy taking these long, leisurely walks across campus just to appreciate all of those old buildings surrounded by the pops of color from the foliage. Gorgeous wasn't really an adequate word in my mind. Being in the Southeastern part of the country also meant that the days were still relatively sunny and warm for the most part, but after the sun went down it could get downright chilly.

Speaking of college, I for one enjoyed the heck out of my college days. Looking back I understand now just how fortunate I was to have met such an awesome group of friends. Of course within this larger, extended group of friends there were smaller groups that socialized on a more day-to-day basis...but I didn't feel like there were any real cliques or anything like that. It just seemed like everybody within this group liked each other and we all enjoyed hanging out. Okay, so maybe I didn't know some of these people as well as I knew others, but I still considered all of them a part of my 'group of friends' and let me tell you - these people were an absolute blast to party with.

This particular memory was made on a day that started out like a typical Saturday. It was mid-October and our college football team was doing really well that season. I know, you're supposed to be a fan win or lose, but winning meant the games were all that much more fun. After tailgating and then cheering until we were hoarse, my two roommates and I grabbed a quick dinner in the student cafeteria before heading back to our off-campus apartment.

The plan was to watch TV, take naps and then go out. Considering we were three poor college students and could only afford the basic cable package (by afford I mean basic cable was included as part of our rent), the only thing on TV was more college football. We'd pretty much had our fill of sports for one day and since we were all pretty exhausted anyways, naps prevailed. I think we ended up sleeping for like four or five hours.

Eventually we managed to rouse ourselves out of our respective beds to start the process of getting ready. I was really looking forward to getting out of the apartment complex and catching a nice buzz. I also didn't have a boyfriend at the time and since my B.O.B. (battery operated boyfriend) was starting to kind of wear out (yikes...from overuse maybe?), I thought it might be fun to be open for a potential hook-up. Maybe...either way, I just had this feeling that it was going to be a really good night.

Why did I think it was going to be so good, you might be asking yourself?

Well, our football team had won handily, recording a shut-out, which meant all my guy friends would be in good moods. Let me push pause right quick to mention on a side note: I still find it silly to this day that so many men I know can let the outcome of a game influence their moods for days...but, whatever. The second reason I thought this might be an epic outing was due to the fact that on this particular Saturday night, the party was going to be at the Old Farmhouse! Unless you went to my school or grew up in that town then that probably doesn't mean anything...so let me explain.

The Old Farmhouse was legendary in our college town. It was passed down so to speak from the group of seniors who had occupied it for four years to a few lucky freshmen. It happened every four years and was a legacy thing or something. It just so happened that three out of the five guys who were the current tenants in this old, rundown farmhouse on the outskirts of campus were from our group of friends. So whenever the landlord (a retired farmer who lived next door) went out of town for the weekend - which only happened a couple of times a year - the boys would throw a party. Old Farmhouse parties were always the best parties...there would be a ton of people there and more than enough liquor and beer. People would hang out by the bonfire, play drinking games, listen to music, dance, get loud and eventually get totally shit-faced. I know, that doesn't sound different than any other run-of-the-mill college party, but this place was really isolated on private property...so the chances of the sheriff coming to break it up for being too loud or whatever were very, very slim.

What more could a bunch of under-aged college kids want on a Saturday night?

My roommates and I took our designated turns in the shower and then ran around our apartment getting ready. Controlled chaos at its finest as we blow dried and curled our hair, put on our make-up and helped each other pick out our outfits. A girl needs all the help she can get to choose just the right pair of jeans to help make her ass looks its best. Since it was Angela's turn to be our designated driver, Lisa and I were also enjoying some pre-party cocktails. By the time we were actually ready to leave for the party the two of us had a nice little buzz going. We laughed and talked shit and sang along with songs on the radio at the top of our lungs all the way out to the Old Farmhouse.

Every little thing about the party lived up to my expectations. Not only was there a keg, but coolers of all sizes full of ice-cold beer were sitting practically everywhere. There were bottles of whiskey and tequila floating around and I even saw a couple of pitchers of margaritas being generously shared. I wasn't even going to go there, so I stuck with my trusty old Coronas. We played quarters with all kinds of crazy rules and then participated in a co-ed guzzling relay race - and no, beer pong had not yet reached popularity on this particular campus...but now I feel old, so moving on. At one point I found myself among a circle of people and we played this ridiculous game of counting that involved reversing numbers and substituting words for certain numbers. They told me it was called 'buzz-bang' and if you messed up you had to drink. I found it really confusing and I ended up drinking a lot, so I gave up on that one pretty quick.

The party continued well past midnight and of course more than a few people ended up getting sloppy drunk. There were the 'criers' (

sniffle...sniffle...but I still love him!

) and the 'arguers' (

aw, hell no, dude - AC/DC sucks...Lynyrd Skynyrd is the best band ever!

) and then there were people like me who were not over-indulging and just having a good time being a spectator. I eventually ended up sitting in this semi-circle of lawn chairs by the fire pit with a mix of half a dozen other girls and guys. We drank and chatted as we people watched. We witnessed the usual hook-ups and break-ups and amused each other with our running commentary on the circle of life of a Saturday night college party.

It was actually pretty entertaining stuff.

I paced myself but kept a nice buzz going while we sat around the remnants of the fire. I had been sort of flirting back and forth with one of the football players for the past hour. He was pretty cute and seemed really into me. He was also being all chivalrous and whatnot by continually getting up and fetching me a fresh beer, but you and I both know he had ulterior motives - as evidenced by the way his eyes would glance down at my chest every fifteen seconds or so. I was sort of considering the possibilities, but it hit a dead end before it even started.

A couple of this cutie's teammates ended up getting into a bit of a ruckus with some local rednecks. I have no idea if my cutie was trying to show off for me or if he genuinely felt the need to get up and take part in said ruckus. Either way, that ruckus turned into more of a semi-brawl for a few minutes. No one was seriously hurt but some random girl ended up getting knocked down and her hand got stepped on. It looked swollen and painful and she was bawling her head off...turns out this girl happened to be the friend-with-benefits of one of the guys who lived in the Old Farmhouse. I guess you couldn't blame him for being pissed...so he kicked all of the participants in the fight out. Sigh...so long cutie and potential hook-up that never happened.

A damper had also been officially thrown over the festive mood of the evening and it wasn't too long before the party started breaking up.

I was still pretty buzzed, but managed to have most of my faculties about me as I wandered into the Old Farmhouse looking for my roommates. After wandering from room to room and asking around I determined that all of my friends including my roommates had either left earlier or were in the process of solidifying the hook-up they had been working on. It looked like I was either going to have to make alternative plans for transportation or else I was stranded. I continued my wanderings and found an old, battered couch in what I assumed was the den. It was unoccupied and there was a fire going in the fireplace, so I sat down and made myself comfortable as I considered my options.

I started to zone out while I was sitting there thinking and watching the fire. I could either try to find someone who was maybe heading in the basic direction of my apartment...or I could just crash on this couch rather than trying to beg for a ride. I knew the guys who lived here wouldn't care one way or the other and I knew I wasn't going to be the only person staying over. Getting up and walking around to interrogate people on which route they would be taking would take entirely too much effort. This couch really wasn't too bad...sort of comfortable in a second hard furniture kind of way. I shrugged. Yeah, that was a tough decision. Besides, I figured either someone would give me a ride in the morning or I knew Angela might complain but she would come and get me if I called her.

Before fully settling in, I did make one quick excursion back outside. I did a quick tour of the bonfire area and managed to scrounge up one of the little coolers that still had half a dozen beers left in it. I brought my new found treasure back inside to my little home-away-from-home couch in the den. I set the cooler behind the arm of the couch so it was out of the way from any prying eyes that might be looking for leftovers. Then I grabbed a log from the little stack in the corner and threw it on the fire. The fireplace quickly started flaring up with the new source of fuel and things were starting to feel nice and cozy.

I opened a fresh beer and slid off the couch so that I was sitting on the floor with my back against the couch. I was feeling pretty mellow as I watched the fire and worked on maintaining my buzz for just a little while longer. I was so relaxed that it took me a few seconds to even notice the girl that had walked into the room and stopped so she could watch the fire too. My eyes finally focused and I immediately recognized her from one of the other smaller groups of friends that I mentioned earlier. Her name was Missy and I really didn't know her all that well, but she seemed really sweet and I had never heard anyone say anything negative about her. She was a senior...really pretty...and she also happened to be the daughter of one of the football coaches. Like I said, I didn't know her all that well, but I did know that she had this reputation of always being super, super discreet and low-key about partying and dating and hooking-up and all that.

I smiled at her. She smiled back. I stretched out and reached behind the arm of the couch and straightening back up, offered her a beer. She smiled as she accepted it and plopped down next to me. I have no idea how long the two of us sat there on the floor sipping beer and watching that fire, but my bladder finally snapped me out of my trance. I got up to go pee and when I came back into the room, Missy had put another log on the fire and was in the process of grabbing all of the cushions off of the couch. I shrugged and walked over and started helping.

I followed her lead as we laid the cushions out on the floor where we had been sitting, stacking and restacking until we had created this really comfy looking bed-like mound. She giggled and stretched out on our new cushioned little space in front of the fire. I joined her and it didn't take too long before we were whispering and chatting and giggling like we'd known each other for years. When it was Missy's turn to use the restroom, she even snuck into one of the bedrooms and stole a blanket. She threw another log onto the fire before lying back down and sharing the blanket with me.

I thought about how that lumpy old couch had been magically transformed into this cozy little quasi-bed that apparently "we" would be sleeping on tonight...which was fine. We were warm and cozy, enjoying the last of our buzzes as we continued to watch the fire. I remember we did a lot of whispering and chatting about nothing and everything. I also vividly remember that we giggled and laughed a lot too. Missy was really clever and funny and the more we talked the more I thought how cool she really was.

I recall thinking at some point just how lucky I was that I ended up being with her in this isolated, little cushion-world in that den. I'm really not sure when it happened, but as the haze of alcohol slowly wore off a small part of my consciousness started tickling my brain. I mean, I was really enjoying Missy's company...but the longer we laid there the more it sort of seemed like we were...I don't know... It seemed like we were kind of flirting.

Huh...were we?

There was a definite vibe between us that I couldn't quite put my finger on. This vibe wasn't making me uncomfortable, but it was definitely different from how I interacted with my other female friends. Maybe it was there because we were close in physical sense. The cushions weren't all that big so we forced by default to be in very close proximity of one another with unintentional body contact. We were also definitely being playful...but that wasn't quite it. Thinking back I realize that it started within the framework of our random chit-chat and discussions on various topics. I honestly can't remember the specifics, but I absolutely remember what escalated it. She asked me if I was ticklish.

I told her I was and then I asked her the same question. Missy said she wasn't, not really...maybe her feet were a bit sensitive. And then she gave me this devious smile. Apparently this chick couldn't resist putting the extent of my ticklishness to the test. She tickled my stomach a few times and of course I reacted like anyone would who is ticklish. Then she tickled my ribs...and then my neck with the same results - a lot of cringing, giggling and begging her to stop. She wasn't being mean about it or trying to torture me - I think she just liked hearing me laugh.

So it was like this slowly developing game we had started playing. Out of the blue she would kind of walk her fingers up various parts of my body like my arm or my leg and then on up to my neck or my stomach and then gently dig them in and tickle me. I'd laugh and cringe away from her fingers which seemed to really amuse her. This went on for a little while and then eventually we talked about other things as we watched the fire. It was getting really late and both of us just sort of settled down and got comfortably quiet.

I'm not sure how long we lay there like that, but somehow the creepiness of that drafty, old house, the warmth of the fire and the coziness of our cushion-bed along with our whispered girl-talk had all led to this sort of spontaneous familiarity. I mean even though we barely knew each other, we both just kind of adopted a kind of comfortableness with one another. Missy was absent-mindedly running her fingernails ever-so-lightly up and down my forearm. Under normal circumstances that would have struck me as, I don't know...odd?

I mean if she had just walked in the room and started doing that out of the blue, I obviously would have questioned it and more than likely would have asked her to please stop. But on this particular night, in these particular circumstances, with the way things had progressed and after everything we had talked about...for some reason I didn't see it as a big deal. It felt nice and I was also in this kind of cozy state of mind from all of the touching and tickling and shared body heat. I'm not sure if I was in subconscious denial or still too buzzed to give it any proper thought, but in hindsight I know that 'cozy feeling' was me slowly but surely starting to get aroused.

Except for the hypnotic flicker of light from the fireplace that danced about the den, the rest of the Old Farmhouse house was pitch black and gloomy. I had no idea how late it was, but I was starting to get a little bit sleepy. We were lying with our heads pretty close together on one of the cushions and I had my eyes half-closed as I watched Missy shift her fingers from idly scratching my arm so that only her index and middle finger were extended. She then "walked" those fingers down to the top of my hand, paused, and turned right to slowly walk them over so that they were "standing" on my stomach.

I watched Missy's movements in a detached sort of way...I could physically feel her fingertips touching me, but it felt like I was watching her hand touching all around my bellybutton on some kind of mental movie screen. Even though I felt comfortably drowsy - and to some extent I was, but also a little turned on - I wasn't feeling particular ticklish at that moment. When I didn't giggle or jump, Missy waited a heartbeat and then continued moving her fingers up and over the considerable swell of my left breast. She paused at the top for just a second and then "walked" her fingers on up to my neck to wiggle them in an attempt to make me laugh, but in a much gentler fashion than before.

I giggled softly so she stopped wiggling her tickling, but let her hand rest on my neck. She stayed like that for a few moments before pulling her hand away. We grew quiet again and Missy went back to running her nails up and down my forearm. It felt really nice. I think only a minute or two went by before she did it again. My breathing was growing a little heavier as I watched her fingers pace down to my hand...and then over to my stomach...and then followed the same route as before as she moved them slowly up and over the hill of my breast until she reached my neck. I didn't laugh nearly as long this time nor did I really cringe away too much.

I was now wide awake as I watched her hand go right back to lightly scratching my arm. She drug her well-manicured nails lightly up and down the skin of my forearm three or four times, but then she stopped and slowly "walked" her fingers over to my stomach again. I held my breath with my eyes glued to those two extended digits. The pace of her finger-steps was much slower this time and as they "stepped" up the slope of my generous breast, Missy stopped her fingers right beside the bump of my hardening nipple. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her turn her head to look directly at me.