100% fictional story, of course…
As I was a 19-year-old student in college (CA), I had a small crush on another student, Suzanna. She preferred to be called Suzanne because of her roots, I believe. Whatever. The fact is, she was a cute 18-year-old pussy, and I was interested in just that, with my 19-year-old hormones making me do things a settled man would not do. Going the extra mile and all that. We had something like a friendship going on. She was a Swiss-Czech mix, a dark blonde, almost brunette, with brown eyes, and she had a nice, feminine body, slender, and her young, natural boobs were probably a size C+, matching her butt size. I don’t think she had more than 100 lb (45 kg) on a scale, and she was probably 5.3 ft (1.60 m), but that didn’t bother me.
And as I slowly discovered, not only in college in CA, but also when she would sometimes visit me in Amsterdam, she was very experienced. And not only with drinking…
But, as a 19-year-old, I had other problems. Regarding the true art of seduction, and by that I mean the real seduction, I had no clue. Real seduction is, for me, getting a married woman to cheat on her husband for the very first time, with you. That kind of seduction. Flirting, I was trying it out on the campus each day, every week, and sometimes I got one step further, sometimes not. Thank God there was another way of getting pussy, and that was simply by bluntly asking a girl if she wanted to have sex.
Let me explain.
I once went to a campus party, as usual, bringing beers and chips with me. Once I got there, it was already pretty crowded, with everybody sitting on the floor of the living room. I saw a small empty spot near, let’s call him Markus, from Austria, on the other side of the room. I quickly walked over and sat down. Before I could even sip from my beer, he said, “Hi,” and started talking about math problems. At a party. Jesus. So, I quickly looked around the room to find another spot. I saw a half-decent one besides Michelle, from Paris.
If you looked at Michelle twice, you would see that she was pretty, but not like in a magazine way, where the beauty jumps in your face. No, it was more a “silent prettiness. “I just don’t know how else to explain it. She was 157 cm (5.2 ft) tall and was around 45 kg (99 lbs). I estimated her to be a 35D-24-35 hourglass girl, with her butt just as big as her tits, but I think she had her tits done; they were always stretching any top she was wearing, testing the fabric, and wanting to break free. Very pretty brown eyes and full, natural lips. I am not sure how old she was; she might have been 24, but it was hard to say.
As I sat down in the narrow space to her right, having to wiggle away one partygoer on my own right side, my shoulders now touching hers, her hips radiated the heat from her loins to me. The touching of our hips made me look down to see why it was so narrow, and the way she was seated on the floor made it possible for me to see that she was wearing white stockings under her red dress. One sexy babe, I thought.
I hadn’t thought much about Michelle; she had arrived at the campus like two weeks ago, but since I speak French, I decided to take my chances.
“Avez-vous de l’argent sur vous?” (Do you have money on you?). “Was” was the first thing I said to her.
“Eh non,” she answered, looking intrigued but with a smile. “Pourquoi?” (“Why?”), she asked.
“Pasque je suis tres cher…” (Because I am very expensive…), I grinned.
That set the course of our mutual night. She placed her small, warm hand on my thigh, real close to my crotch, and asked, while looking me in the eyes, if she could pay me in a different way. I replied to her that we might not be done in just one hour because of the many charges she would have to endure from me, to which she answered that she was wide open for any suggestions the entire night.
My cock got very hard from her slutty words, but the bend angle of my cock inside my tight Levi’s 517 jeans was immensely straining against the fabric. You could now clearly see the size and the shape of my cock, but it was pointing to one side. The buttons of my jeans were laboring to keep it all inside.
My hard cock tried to find more room by twitching, and one finger of Michelle’s felt the movement under her hand. She looked at me and asked if that was her booking. “Yes,” I replied, “but you might want to check if it is all there.” Plus, it has a delay; you might want to help find its way, I added.
Michelle took her blazer, which was lying on her lap, and placed it on mine, covering my crotch with it. Nobody was paying attention to us; the people on my right were drinking hard and did not notice anything going on. Her soft hand snaked under her blazer, quickly finding the bulge of my hard cock. As she was softly caressing it horizontally along its length, she whispered in my ear:
“Horizontal is good; vertical is better.”
As if that helped my stiff situation. Quite the opposite, it only made my cock harder. Michelle found the first button of my jeans, and with some effort, because she was using only her right hand, she managed to undo it. The next buttons were much easier for her; each one almost popped open on its own from the pressure of my rod. Once the last button was undone, her small hand advanced inside my small underpants, quickly finding my burning hot, rock-hard cock. She gently grabbed it; the first thing she felt was the heat of my tool. The next thing she noticed was the size of it; her hand could not clasp the entire girth. A soft moan involuntarily escaped her lips, and her brain tried to comprehend what kind of snake she would soon have in her pussy.
She let her hand slowly glide over my cock towards the big throbbing head, but had trouble reaching it because my jeans were simply stretched to the max. She grabbed my cock firmly and pulled it upwards, placing it vertically, getting rid of the struggle it had, and making it proudly stand up, covered by her flimsy blazer. Her experienced hand went south again, searching for my balls. She knew they might be trapped too, and the last thing she wanted was not having them come ready for her. She found them right away, those two seed machines, and lifted them both upwards to give them more space. If her blazer hadn’t covered it all, you would have seen a proud, erect cock with two large balls, ready to fulfil any of Michelle’s wishes.
She leaned towards me, smiling, and whispered, “You are lucky I cannot suck you here, big boy.”
She didn’t wait for my reply and rubbed her hand up and down over my entire cock’s length. Each time she reached my balls, she softly cupped either one of them, lifting it a little, as if she were trying to figure out by weighing it how much cum it had ready for her. As her hand came up again, reaching for the mushroom, she again leaned over to me and said softly,
“Let’s give it some breathing air, shall we?” And as she was slowly pulling back my foreskin, one of her nails was tracing the progress by leaving a momentary scratch on my very sensitive cockhead. Still, everything she did was covered out of view by her blazer, and she wanted to have a quick peek.
“Can you hold my bag for a second?” She asked, placing it upright on my legs, just below where my balls would be. I looked to my right, guessing what was about to happen, but they were busy kissing and not paying attention to us, and on Michelle’s left side, two persons had left, and nobody was sitting there anymore.
Michelle leaned over and pretended to search for something in her bag, fumbling around. She then simply lifted the blazer, leaned in all the way, and quickly took my cock’s head in her mouth. Her tongue played for a couple of seconds with my sensitive, throbbing cock head, and before I realized what was going on, she took my cock out of her mouth and covered my rod again with her blazer. From sheer pleasure, my cock made the blazer twitch two or three times.
Somebody switched off the main living room lights, and only two little side table lamps were still on. This was for some the sign to leave, and others were either busy kissing or too drunk to notice they were at a party. The drunk guy near the one side table switched off the light, and now the room was dimly lit. One newly formed couple stood up and left the place holding hands; off they went to their first mutual fuck session.
Michelle kept her right hand on my cock, playing with her nails on the sensitive head, keeping my cock as hard as I ever believed was possible. It was time to give her something back. Not wanting to miss her teasing hand action on my cock, I shifted my body partially to the left, facing her a bit more, so I would be able to reach under her wide skirt with my right hand. She wore a red one-piece dress, with the top being tight on her breasts, but the skirt was very loose and wide.
My right hand slowly moved over her stocking-clad thigh upwards, first finding the thicker elastic band of her white stockings, but not finding any straps yet. I got curious; I wanted to know if she was wearing a garter with suspenders or not. I slid my calloused hand, from weightlifting, further up over her soft skin, taking great care not to touch her pussy yet, but moving past it really close, teasing her. My rough fingers slowly caressed the entire soft area around her pussy lips, being very careful not to touch it.
She instinctively pushed her hips up, reacting to her desire, trying to trick me into touching her clit, but she was too late; my hand was already caressing her flat stomach. I reached her belly button, inserting my middle finger in her little belly valley for a second or two, softly fingering it.
As my hand moved further upwards, all the way to her ribcage, I did finally find the garter belt, so I lowered my hand again, but this time it was sliding down over the middle of her stomach, sliding straight down towards her eagerly awaiting pussy.
Just before reaching the clit area, I stopped my hand.
“Oh.” She moaned from desperation, lifting her hips again, almost frustrated from not being touched where she needed it the most.
I leaned my face towards hers, and our lips touched. As I probed with my tongue, she opened her mouth, letting me in, welcoming me with her tongue, spit being exchanged. At that very moment, I inserted my middle finger in her wet slit, making her moan inside her mouth, the sound almost completely blocked by my tongue.
She spread her legs more, opening them willingly for me and as wide as possible, ignoring everyone in the same room. My finger went deeper, not having any penetration issues with that drenched pussy she offered me. I started a deep and slow stroke rhythm, fingering her as deeply as possible. She kept moaning inside my mouth, following my finger’s cadence: “Mpphh. Mppphhhhh. Mhhhphh.”
After servicing her like that for three or four minutes, I suddenly pulled out my finger completely and held it in front of her mouth. She sucked on my finger hungrily, taking it all in, making sure she would swallow all her gas juices.
She was ready. Time for her to sit on something much harder than the floor. I lowered myself a bit more against the wall and whispered to her, “Come to me.” As I placed her bag on the floor next to me, I lifted away her blazer. Having my precum-dripping cock in plain view, she needed no further explanation and pulled her dress all the way up to her stomach, showing to the world her very ready pussy. She moved her right leg over me and, balancing with her arms, sat down on my thighs, with her back to me. I grabbed her slender waist and lifted her up and closer to me, having my ready cock exactly below her waiting pussy. With her right hand, she grabbed my cock and placed it straight between her swollen cunt lips.
She wasted no time and sank her cunt all the way balls deep on my very ready cock. My precum and her lubrication made the penetration perfect. The impact of my girth on her tight cunt walls made her gasp loudly, but no one in the room cared. She placed both her arms behind her back on my chest and started fucking me by pushing herself up, barely keeping the red cock head inside her, and then letting herself fall deep on my rod. Her loud gasps continued; her cunt was still trying to get used to the invasion it was suffering from.
I raised the speed of abusing her receptive cunt by holding her by the waist and lifting her up and down. As soon as I took over the fucking, she was simply used as a hole. Realizing the absolute abuse of her most intimate female body part as a cheap lust orifice, her orgasm announced itself, and she came hard on my rod, her body shaking, as wave after wave of sheer pleasure shot through her.
Now it was my turn. As she was still shaking from her orgasm, I felt my balls contract, and I whispered to her, “Do you want my baby’s seed?”
“OOOH YESSS! “Was what she somehow could scream,” as she was riding out her orgasm.
Michelle kept fucking me hard while I was unloading a truckload of baby makers deep inside her clamping walls. Her thirsty womb was now filled with my burning hot cum, and Michelle came again just by feeling the flooding of her ovaries. Her used cunt and anus kept contracting from the orgasmic pleasure waves her body emitted.
I pulled her cunt hard against me, making sure my injecting cock was buried as deep as possible inside this slutty woman, and remained like that for several minutes. My throbbing cock was still pulsating its cargo straight from my balls, shooting rope after rope of my thickest load to where it belonged.
As she collapsed with her back against my chest, my now flaccid cock slowly slipped out, releasing a torrent of cum leaking out of Michelle. Some cum ran inside her backdoor opening, which was still contracting from her orgasm.
Michelle—To be continued.
…
Back to Suzanne.
Perhaps that is what I like so much about her. She had a mind of her own and knew very well what she wanted and what not. Just as an example, I once broke up with an Asian babe after two or three months because she always agreed on everything and had no mind of her own. Maybe in old Rome, with her as my slave, I would have tolerated this, but not in this world. I need a babe who sometimes says no.
So often, I would spontaneously drop by Suzanne’s dorm, still developing those very clumsy flirting skills I had as a young man. As I passed by one night, a guy called Darrel was already sitting with her on her two-seater couch, and she had her hand flat on his thigh. I said, “Sorry to interrupt,” and away I went. “Damn,” I thought. “She already had a visitor.” My real brain knew she was already taken, but my little brain in my pants still had high hopes. Stupid cock of mine. My eyes did very well to see that the guy was packing a BBC, but still, dreams die last.
So, one or two weeks went by, and my horny balls decided I needed to drop in at her dorm again, just to say hello. The dorms were set up as follows: The stairs would lead to a long but small balcony, and you would find on your left and on your right a door leading to one dorm. The door was also the living room door. So, if it weren’t locked, you could just barge in. Behind that, you had a small corridor that led, passing the bathroom, to the bedroom, which was split in two for two students.
That evening, I did knock softly on the door, but I didn’t wait for any reply and simply walked in.
Well, there she was, completely naked and on her knees in front of Darell’s big cock, trying to swallow all his cum, which was already leaking out of her mouth, on her chin, and even dripping on her chest and breasts. I guess I distracted her from her task.
Well, I finally—my little brain finally understood that she was “taken.” She didn’t look surprised or shocked or anything; she was simply distracted for a second from emptying his BBs and swallowing his cum. As soon as she realized it was me, she smiled at me and turned back to the task at hand. At the mouth, that is. First, she swallowed what she had already willingly received in her mouth, but she kept looking at me.
It gave me a hard-on right away as if she were cheating on me. And of course, she saw the large bulge in my thin sports shorts and that I was getting rock hard. She smiled at me with that newfound knowledge and gave me an appreciative look. I didn’t have the balls in those days to get my cock out and ask if she’d like a threesome, showing her my tool, so she turned her head, looking up at Darell again, and started slowly scooping up his cum from her chin with one finger, delivering it oh so slowly to her thirsty little mouth. She for sure was playing with him as well, doing a slow, little tease.
“Don’t forget your titties,” Darell said to her, reminding her of the globs of cum she somehow missed. She smiled and looked down at her breasts, finding two more drops. With two experienced fingers, she quickly mopped her titties clean, enjoying the salty-sweet cum taste once the last little load was delivered to her tongue. This was not the first time she had done this, I thought. She knew exactly how sticky cum can be and how much pressure you need to remove it from your skin with your fingers.
I mumbled something like, “Sorry.” And turned around, leaving. The last thing I saw was that she took his entire flaccid but still fat cock in her mouth, making sure this time no cum would escape from her.
After that evening, I didn’t see her for at least a month and a half, because we both had completely different classes. As I saw her again one day, at the pool area, she just greeted me as usual, as if nothing had happened.
“Hi,” Suzanne said, smiling at me. That is what I like so much about her; she has a cool attitude to life and is very open-minded.
“Hey, you,” I replied, smiling. “How are you?” I asked.
“Yeah, OK,” she would always answer, but in a positive way.
But a man can learn a lot in six weeks. Especially with women. And once you get enough female confirmations, your actions grow bolder, cheekier, and more Casanova-like.
“Want to have a drink at my place tonight?” I simply asked her.
Most of the time, the first gut thought with flirting is the right one. Just talk to the woman you want. Often, they just want the same as everybody: a bit of fun and romance. I knew she had seen my bulge as I was getting hard in plain view that one evening, and that she probably had stored what she saw. And as my dad whispered once to me, “If you don’t shoot, you can’t knock them out.”
“Yeah, sure.” She replied again, with a positive tone in her reply.
“See you at 9.” I told her, because that was the best time to invite a woman without making it too obvious what you wanted.
“I just had to get rid of my stupid roommate,” I thought. But an idea occurred to me right away. He had the hots for another Swiss babe, and I would simply tell him that she would be at so-and-so’s party and that I wanted to be alone with a visitor. There were at least three parties each night to choose from, so I asked around, and I got four locations. As I told him, he kept nagging about who my visitor was, but I kept my mouth shut. His English was not that good, and he needed me for our weekend trips we used to take together, so he nodded and left.
Time to shave, shower, and get the place cleaned up. Since our dorm was very small, this was never a problem. Fresh sheets and some rosé in the climate duct (we didn’t have a fridge, but the air conditioning had long tunnels just under the ceiling). You simply had to remove the grid, and you could store a lot in those tunnels. Sometimes we would discover beers in there, which we had completely forgotten about!
Just as I had everything ready and my roommate was gone, she sent me an SMS. “Please, come to my place instead.”
“Ok,” I replied, putting the two chilled bottles of wine in my backpack.
All the dorms were pretty close to each other, and I arrived at hers like fifteen minutes later. After she let me in, she thanked me for coming to her place instead. She looked great; she had changed into a white one-piece dress and done her hair, and she looked very fuckable. I did notice her eyelids were a bit tired; she probably had partied yesterday, but she covered most of it nicely with mascara.
“You look great,” I blurted out. “If you go outside like that, you will turn many heads, including from women.”
“You think?” she replied.
“Oh yes, please turn around one time,” I replied. “I need to see how tight the dress is. Your safety comes first with me.”
“Only my safety comes,” she pouted. “Nothing else?” As she did a little turn and looked again at me, waiting for the jury results.
“Very pretty,” I said. “You just turned my head twice. “How do you get into that dress?” I teased her.
“You can get me a drink first, and then we will see.” She laughed.
“I brought some chilled rosé; can you get me two glasses?” I asked.
“Give me a sec.” She replied and left for her bedroom.
From her bedroom, I heard the noise of bedsheets and twice the typical sound of beating on pillows to make them fluffy.
I unpacked the wine in the meantime and put it on the table, and before I even sat down, she came back with two glasses and some tortilla chips and a dip.
“Did you know that my bed is ready?” She asked me in a sexy, provoking tone.
I swallowed hard, not being used to this kind of approach. I didn’t know how to react to this, so I focused on filling both glasses. I stepped closer to her, handing over her glass of wine. We toasted while we stood. As I was about to take a sip of my wine, she mentioned casually,
“I guess I owe you a blowjob.”
I almost choked on my wine, but I was able to handle it better this time. Having a mouth bigger than my brain, I answered as cool as possible: “And a striptease.”
She grinned. He was sure cocky, she thought. And she remembered he was packed. Maybe this was going to be a good evening. Europeans were simply much easier and straight to the point. Maybe they had a lack of seduction techniques, but what counts are the results. But he was not so rude as most Swiss men. Sometimes she wondered if there were only farmers with no social skills back home.
“My roommate moved out two days ago; did you know that? We have the place all for ourselves…” she said in a teasing voice.
“So, we could do here in the living room whatever we want?” I asked innocently.
“We could and we should,” Suzanne said, looking me straight in the eye.
I stood up and got closer to her, still not sure what my next action should be.
Because of my indecisive attitude, Susanne asked me, as she grabbed with both hands the shoulder straps of her dress, “How about if I pull down the top of the dress?” Would you like that?”
I could only nod.
“Like this?” She asked, showing me two beautiful, pear-shaped breasts.
Suzanne—To be continued
