This is a long story with not much sex. If you read it I hope you like it.
IT'S A JUNGLE OUT THERE
"Who was that?" Rena asked me.
I sat in the little bistro trying to digest what, over the last few minutes, had just occurred. Two very separate worlds of mine had collided. I looked up to see Rena's beautiful, exotic face, long dark hair, golden tanned complexion, and high cheekbones, staring at me with a perplexed look on her face.
I paused, maintaining eye contact, and took a deep breath.
"That," I began, "was Jasmine." I told her with a long exhalation of breath.
Rena cocked her head, brows knit, staring at me, still questioning. Suddenly the light turned on and she got it.
"That was your Jasmine!?" She asked, incredulous. Her mind was trying to associate what she had previously heard with what she had just seen.
"Rena, honey," I began, "she and I were together a long time ago. I haven't seen her in five or six years or more." I said.
"I just didn't know that she was so, so.... ". She began.
"I know," I interrupted her. "I probably need to tell you the whole story." I said.
Rena sat and stared at me. She gave me one single nod as if to say, 'let's hear the story'.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Nine years ago
Other than a one week goodwill chaperoned church trip to Mexico, I had never been farther away than a few hours from my rural home before I enrolled as a freshman at Taft University. The small universe of people I had known were restricted to the other agricultural families near our tiny town of Benton. The fact that my parents were deeply religious and raised the family that way further perpetuated my naïveté.
My parents were cautiously happy that I had received an agricultural scholarship at Taft. But I also think they were worried about my being away from home
in a college environment.
And now, suddenly, I was in a dorm room at college along with hundreds of other young people my age. My roommate, Charlie, was from Chicago. At first I suspected he was a little disappointed that he got stuck with the hick from the country as a roommate, but as time passed we became friends.
The stories my fellow dorm mates told shocked me. I'd had a girlfriend in high school but all we had ever done was hold hands and kiss. Now I was hearing the most outrageous descriptions of sexual debauchery. I think the guys on my dorm floor enjoyed trying to shock me with their experiences. I wondered about all the things they told me. Could all these stories be true? Do people actually do all of this to each other?
Another surprising situation was that the boys dorms and the girls dorms were mixed within the same building. Different floors but the same buildings. The boys had the odd floors and the girls had the even floors.
One day I had planned to borrow a book from a girl in my freshman English class. Her dorm was in my building a few floors up from my floor. As I opened the door to her dorm floor I saw two girls leaving the shower room clad only in fairly small towels. I couldn't help it. I turned and stared. They noticed.
One girl turned to the other girl and whispered something, and then they both giggled.
"Hey Owen," the girls called to me.
I turned back to look at them and they both opened their towels to expose their nude bodies. I was completely shocked, as well as sexually excited.
You have to understand, beside once years ago seeing my mother (not sexually exciting whatsoever) accidentally in the bathroom and one of my friends showing me an old low end men's magazine behind the barn just once, I had exactly zero exposure to the female body.
I ogled the roundness of their breasts, the darker pertness of their nipples, and my eyes shifted downward to the mystery of their genitalia. Way too soon the girls covered up and made their way down the hall laughing at my reaction. In my sexually excited embarrassment I completely forgot about the English book.
But the vision of the two coeds played an endless tantalizing mental loop through my brain for a long time afterward.
So to say I was naive and inexperienced would be a huge understatement. Gradually my fellow dorm mates realized how inexperienced I was and I became the subject of great teasing.
Despite my innocence I was still a normal, healthy, sexually charged nineteen year old boy with the same urges. Battling these urges was the deep seeded religious environment I was raised within. Sex was shameful, do not objectify females, sexual activity was saved for marriage, and the purpose of intercourse was strictly for procreation. This was the type of message that I had been raised around.
All these new sexual revelations were completely opposite of the moral teachings I grew up with. The temptations of female companionship struggled with my religious psyche.
So by the time I was a junior at Taft University I was still a virgin. That is not to say I hadn't achieved some form of sexual experience. Mid way through my junior year my sexual history consisted of, one blow job, three hand jobs, the touching of a total of four vaginas and seventeen bare female breasts. (the odd number of breasts is a separate story that is not worth elaborating on).
And then I met Jasmine.
On the weekends at Taft there were always parties to be found. In fact if you looked hard enough there was likely a party any night of the week. Charlie and my other freshman dorm friends were always up for a good party and constantly asked me to join them.
I was intent upon my studies, my parents work ethic ever present in my brain, and so I didn't hit the party scene all that often. Maybe an average of one or two times maximum per month.
Speaking of my studies I was focused on the science of agriculture. I really didn't plan on farming for a living like my family does, but I was interested in ways to make farming in our community and elsewhere better.
There were different opportunities at Taft to study abroad and learn about different concepts from foreign countries. I was extremely interested in the idea of studying somewhere overseas. Perhaps this desire was fueled by my sheltered upbringing and the need to explore as much of the rest of the world as possible. I was hoping to travel somewhere my senior year.
It was early Spring of my junior year and Charlie convinced me to attend a keg party with him and a group of guys that I originally met in the freshmen dorms. The setting was a big open field near the football stadium. There were red and white (the Taft colors) tents set up in the field and you paid ten bucks to get in and drink cheap beer.
I had been to enough of these things that some of the behaviors didn't shock me like they had when I first arrived. True, I was still a virgin and I was still kind of torn about my sexual state. I knew at some point I was going to have full blown sex, I just guess my moral upbringing was pretty hard wired and I didn't pursue the grand prize of intercourse with the same zeal as my friends.
At the party I was hanging out with a clump of my friends just watching the interesting social interactions unfold. At one point I looked up and realized my friends had disbursed. That's when I met Jasmine.
As I was quietly standing amidst the throng of partiers I was bumped by some drunk directly on my elbow. This caused me to spill my nearly full nursed beer on the petite beauty who happened to be walking by at that moment.
"Thanks a lot!" She looked at me frowning.
The beer had spilled on her bare shoulder and down the front of her tank top.
"I am so sorry!" I said to her as I grabbed a napkin out of my back pocket.
I wiped some of the liquid from her bare shoulder and then moved to dab at her shirt. I realized quickly that dabbing at her shirt meant contact with her shapely breasts. Midway to doing so my hand froze before it touched her feminine mounds.
"Uh," I awkwardly said, "here." And I handed her the napkin.
She grabbed the napkin in my hand, but continued holding my hand. All the time her initial scowl turned into a half smile made all the more sexy by her half lidded stare as she watched my fumbling reaction.
"You're not going to finish the job?" She asked me.
"Um, well, I just thought," I stuttered, and nodded toward her chest.
She started laughing.
"I'm just teasing you," she said. "Most guys will take any excuse to cop a quick feel."
I opened my mouth to say something, but blushingly was at a loss for words.
"Well I guess we should meet formally before we get to second base," she said with a smile on the verge of laughter. "I'm Jasmine Duval." She said and extended her right hand to shake mine.
I was still flustered by her statement about second base.
"Hi." Was all I mustered out.
She stared at me with that same half lidded smile. She continued to hold my right hand. We stood that way for several seconds.
"Uh, normally," she said, "when you're introduced you also let the other person know what your name is too." She cocked her head to look at me, still smiling and still holding my hand.
"Yes, sorry," I fumbled out, "I'm Owen Isaacson." I finally said.
"Well, nice to meet you Owen Isaacson." She said as she shook my hand. "Now, why don't you and I find a beer for me to drink, rather than to wear." She said as she grabbed my arm and steered us both toward the kegs.
And with that I spent the entire party with Jasmine. I learned that she was a sophomore but that this was her first year at Taft. She was studying business. She didn't live on campus but in an apartment in a building that her family owned. I told her a little about my rural upbringing.
Physically she was attractive, maybe in a less wholesome way as some of the other girls I dated but still quite good looking. Her hair was blond, or I guess what's called frosted. She was probably a foot shorter than my 6'2", petite, with a tight lean body with a muscular ass and breasts that I guessed were not quite C cups, but close. And as I had noticed, facially she had a sexy half lidded look with a broad inviting smile.
At the end of the evening she asked if I would walk her home. Her apartment was above a restaurant, a place I'd heard of but never been in. It was called Papaya and it was right on the corner in the downtown area next to campus. Papaya had a small coffee shop in front, on the street, and in the back was the
